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elryuse · 14 days ago

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Perfect Match

Yandere Chuu X Male Reader

Tags : Yandere Chuu, Companion App, Dating App, Obsessed, Obsession, Multiple Creampie, Kissing, Handtie, Dark Romance

Words : 7,373 Words

A Wonderful Commission Work For My Friend @starconstruction On Ko-fi and Tumblr. Hope You Enjoyed it My Friend.

Love has never been kind to you.

From the very first crush in high school to the more mature relationships you attempted in adulthood, the outcome was always the same—rejection. They all said the same thing.

"You're too nice."

"You're a little too clingy."

"I need someone who’s a little more distant, a little more exciting."

And every time you heard those words, you found yourself staring into the mirror, wondering what exactly was so wrong with being kind. Wasn’t kindness supposed to be a virtue? Wasn’t affection supposed to be the foundation of a strong relationship?

But no. Women wanted mystery, danger, or detachment. They wanted men who made them chase, men who made them second-guess their worth. And you? You were none of those things. You gave too much, loved too deeply, and in the end, that was your greatest flaw.

Now, here you were, lying on your bed in a dimly lit apartment, the glow of your phone screen illuminating your tired face. It was another lonely night, another reminder that no one was waiting for you. No one cared if you fell asleep sad or woke up miserable. You scrolled absentmindedly through old texts, your fingers hesitating over the names of exes who no longer cared whether you existed.

Then, an ad popped up on your screen.

"Tired of being alone? Your Perfect Match is waiting."

You almost scoffed. Another dating app. Another waste of time. But then again... what did you have to lose?

The download was instant. No ridiculous surveys, no personality tests—just a simple login and an endless scroll of profiles.

The app had an eerie, almost too-perfect design. Unlike other dating platforms, there were no messy bios or half-hearted selfies. Each profile was sleek, professionally curated, with high-quality images and deep, intense gazes staring back at you.

"Perfect Match."

The name made you uneasy. Love was anything but perfect. If perfection existed, you wouldn't be here, swiping through digital faces in search of someone who might give you a fraction of the affection you craved.

Still, you scrolled.

Hundreds of faces. Hundreds of names. Some were beautiful, others intriguing, but none of them held your attention for long.

Until her.

A profile stopped you in your tracks.

"Chuu."

Her picture was different. Unlike the others, she wasn’t posing, wasn’t trying to look seductive or mysterious. She simply sat there, her head tilted slightly, a soft, unreadable smile on her lips. Her dark eyes held a certain warmth, yet there was something else hidden beneath them—something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Her bio was short.

"Let’s not waste time. If you choose me, you’re mine."

A chill ran down your spine. The words were direct, almost possessive. But maybe that was what drew you in. Maybe after years of being the one who loved too much, it was thrilling to think that someone might want you just as badly.

Your finger hesitated over the screen.

What if this was another disappointment?

But deep down, you already knew.

You were going to swipe right.

And the moment you did, your phone vibrated violently.

A message popped up instantly.

"Finally. I was getting impatient."

Your breath hitched.

Chuu had been waiting for you.

Your hands trembled as you clicked the message.

"That was fast," you typed, unsure of what else to say.

"Of course. I’ve been waiting for you."

Your heartbeat quickened.

"Waiting… for me?"

There was a pause before her next message.

"Yes. Only you. Didn’t you read my profile? If you choose me, you’re mine."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Was she joking? Or was this some kind of scripted AI response?

"That’s… pretty intense," you replied.

Her response came immediately.

"Do you want someone half-hearted? Someone who only gives you pieces of themselves?"

The words struck a nerve. No, you didn’t. That was exactly what had broken you time and time again.

"No," you admitted.

"Then stop overthinking it. I want you. Completely. Every part of you. Are you ready for that?"

Your breath caught in your throat. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever wanted you so wholly, so absolutely.

Your fingers typed almost on their own.

"Yes."

The moment you sent the message, your phone flickered. The screen distorted for a second, a flash of static running through it. Then, just as quickly, everything returned to normal.

"Good boy."

A shiver ran down your spine.

And for the first time in years, you felt something stir deep within you.

Excitement.

Anticipation.

And a fear you couldn’t quite explain.

Chuu was unlike anyone you had ever spoken to.

She didn’t waste time with small talk. She didn’t ask about your favorite movies or what you did for a living.

Instead, she wanted to know you.

"What hurts you the most?"

"Why do you think no one stays?"

"What do you need to feel whole?"

The questions were invasive, almost uncomfortable, but you found yourself answering them anyway. Maybe it was her tone, the way she spoke to you like she already knew you—like she had been watching, waiting, studying every failure and heartbreak you had endured.

And in return, she offered herself completely.

"I don’t believe in love the way others do," she admitted after hours of conversation. "I believe in something stronger. Something deeper. Love fades, but devotion? Obsession? That lasts forever."

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard.

"Is that what you want? Obsession?"

"No," she replied. "That’s what we want."

Her words sent another shiver through you.

And yet, as unsettling as they were, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

You wanted more.

You wanted her.

No one had ever spoken to you like this. No one had ever made you feel this desired, this needed. It was intoxicating, the way her words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into something you didn’t quite understand.

Your phone buzzed again.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

Your heart pounded.

"Yes."

"Good. Then it’s decided. We’ll meet. I can’t wait to finally touch you."

The screen flickered once more before her message disappeared, as if it had never been there.

You stared at your phone, your pulse unsteady.

This was insane. You had never met her. You didn’t know if she was real.

But at that moment, none of that mattered.

Because for the first time in your life, someone wanted you.

Completely.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual.

Your heart was still pounding from last night’s conversation with Chuu. The way she spoke to you, the way she claimed you as if you had always belonged to her—it was both thrilling and terrifying.

You had never experienced this before. A woman who wanted you, who made no hesitation in making it known.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smoothed out the wrinkles in your shirt, trying to look as presentable as possible. Nothing too flashy, nothing too casual—just the right amount of effort. You even dabbed a bit of cologne on your wrists, a subtle scent, nothing overpowering.

You wanted to make a good impression.

You arrived at the small café she had chosen, your nerves getting the best of you. It was quaint, tucked away from the busy streets, a place that felt too intimate for a first meeting.

You took a seat near the window, the sunlight casting a glow over the wooden table. Your fingers tapped restlessly against the cup of coffee in front of you.

The minutes stretched on.

Your eyes flickered toward the entrance every time someone walked in, but none of them were her.

Then, just as you were beginning to doubt yourself, she arrived.

You recognized her instantly.

She looked exactly like her picture—no, she looked even better. Her dark eyes sparkled the moment she saw you, her lips curving into a smile that sent a shiver down your spine. There was something captivating about the way she moved, as if every step she took was meant only for you.

Before you could even react, she rushed toward you.

And then, suddenly, her arms were around you.

Warm. Soft. Possessive.

Your entire body froze as she hugged you, pressing herself against you as if she had known you forever. It wasn’t a shy, hesitant embrace—it was firm, deliberate, as if she was staking a claim.

Your heart nearly stopped.

No one had ever hugged you like this before.

"You’re real," she whispered against your shoulder, her voice trembling slightly. "You’re finally real."

You didn’t know what to say. Your hands hovered awkwardly in the air before hesitantly resting against her back.

She smelled sweet—something soft, like vanilla and roses.

When she finally pulled back, her hands remained on your arms, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I was so worried you wouldn’t come," she admitted, her fingers gripping you just a little tighter.

You swallowed. "Of course, I came."

Her smile widened. "Good. Because now that I have you, I’m never letting go."

Something about the way she said it sent a strange chill through you.

And yet, as she sat down across from you, her gaze never once leaving your face, you realized something.

You liked the way she looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Days turned into weeks.

Chuu became a constant presence in your life, as if she had always been there, waiting for the right moment to step in.

At first, you weren’t sure what to expect. She had been so intense that first night, her words lingering in your mind long after you parted ways. But when you met again, and again after that, you realized something—Chuu wasn’t just intense. She was overwhelming.

In the best way possible.

She had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. Her laugh was warm, light, like a melody you never wanted to stop hearing. She never hesitated to shower you with compliments, always pointing out things about you that no one else ever seemed to notice.

"You have the kindest eyes," she once said, her fingers brushing against your cheek. "Like someone who’s been hurt but still wants to love."

Her words stuck with you for days.

She loved food, always insisting on trying new places with you, always making you share bites of whatever she was eating. If you ever hesitated, she would pout and say, "But I want to experience it with you."

So you did.

Late-night ramen shops, quiet coffee houses, hidden dessert cafés—every moment with her felt alive. The loneliness that had once weighed so heavily on your chest was beginning to fade. For the first time in years, you felt like someone truly wanted you.

One evening, as you sat across from her at a small restaurant, watching her giggle at something you said, a thought crept into your mind.

She might be the one.

The way she looked at you, the way she adored you—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

"You know," she murmured, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed at you. "I really love how kind you are."

Your heart clenched at her words. You had been told so many times that your kindness was a flaw, that it made you too much for others. But Chuu? She made it seem like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I mean it," she continued, tilting her head. "You’re the kind of person who deserves to be loved completely. I want to be the one to do that."

A part of you still hesitated, still feared that this was too good to be true.

But when Chuu reached across the table and took your hand in hers, her fingers lacing with yours so naturally, so possessively—

All your doubts melted away.

The doubt crept in slowly, like a shadow stretching across your once-perfect world with Chuu.

It started with something small—a fleeting thought, an intrusive whisper in the back of your mind. But as the days passed, it grew.

At first, it was just her constant need to meet up.

"Let’s go out tonight."

"There’s this new café I want to try."

"I miss you. Don’t make me wait."

Every single day, she wanted to see you.

At first, you loved it. How could you not? After years of being told you were too much, here was someone who wanted more. Someone who craved your presence, who made you feel wanted in ways no one else ever had.

But then the doubt set in.

It happened when you were out with some old friends, one of the rare nights you weren’t with Chuu. Someone mentioned Perfect Match, casually bringing up a rumor they had heard.

"You know that girl Chuu? I heard she was with someone else before you."

"So what? Everyone dates, right?"

"No, listen. The guy said she didn’t love him. She only cared about the food, the gifts—never about him."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

"He was furious. Said she used him. That she pretended to be obsessed with him, but it was all fake."

Your throat tightened.

"That’s bullshit," another friend scoffed. "She’s just a normal girl, right? Maybe he was just bitter she left him."

Maybe.

Maybe that was all it was.

But the rumor burrowed deep into your mind, poisoning everything.

That night, when your phone buzzed with another message from Chuu, you hesitated before opening it.

"Come over. I miss you."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

You thought about all the times she had asked you out. All the places you had gone, all the food she had insisted you try with her.

Every single outing. Every single date.

All of it involved food. Restaurants. Drinks. Something she wanted to experience.

Not once had she ever just… wanted to stay in with you. Not once had she suggested doing something that wasn’t centered around indulging herself.

Your heart pounded.

Was she really here because she loved you?

Or were you just another fool she was using?

You tried to brush it off, to tell yourself you were overthinking it. But the paranoia grew, festering in the back of your mind like a wound you couldn’t ignore.

And Chuu. she didn’t make it easy.

Her messages became more frequent.

More demanding.

"I haven’t seen you all day. Where are you?"

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Don’t make me come find you."

That last message made your stomach twist.

It wasn’t just the words. It was the way she phrased it.

Not "Can I see you?"

Not "I miss you."

But "Don't make me come find you."

Your breathing grew shallow.

This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t love.

Was it?

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The doubt. The paranoia. The way Chuu’s messages had started to feel less like affection and more like demands.

At first, you tried to ignore the thoughts, pushing them away whenever they surfaced. But the more you tried, the more they consumed you. Every time your phone vibrated, a sick feeling twisted in your gut.

What if it was true?

What if you were nothing more than another meal ticket to her?

You told yourself you were being irrational. That Chuu had done nothing but show you warmth and affection. That the way she looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—had to be real.

But then the messages became relentless.

"Where are you?"

"Why aren’t you answering me?"

"If you don’t respond, I’ll come to you."

That was the breaking point.

The moment you read that last message, something inside you snapped.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

You couldn’t go through another heartbreak, another disappointment.

You had given too much of yourself to people who only took. You had loved too deeply, only to be cast aside the moment they found someone better, someone less kind, less clingy, less you.

You refused to be used again.

So you made a choice.

You cut her off. Completely.

Blocked her number. Deleted the app.

Erased every trace of her from your phone, from your life.

And then, before she could find you like she had threatened you.

You ran.

A new country. A new name. A fresh start, as far away from your past as possible.

You left behind everything. Your apartment, your friends, even the few belongings that didn’t fit in your suitcase.

It was the only way to be free.

But even as you stepped off the plane, breathing in the air of a place where no one knew your name

You couldn’t shake the feeling.

That somewhere, somehow

She was still watching.

Chuu was furious.

No—furious wasn’t enough to describe what she felt.

Rage boiled in her veins, her fingers trembling as she stared at the empty chat screen. Every message she had sent—ignored. Every call—unanswered. She tried again, pressing the call button with force, her breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"The number you are trying to reach is unavailable."

She gritted her teeth so hard it hurt.

You blocked her.

You cut her off.

Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Why? She had given you everything—her time, her love, her affection. She had adored you, made you feel wanted, made you hers.

And yet, you ran.

Like a coward. Like the others who didn’t understand her.

But you were different. You had to be different.

Hadn’t you told her she made you happy? Hadn’t you looked at her like she was the only one who had ever truly seen you?

She had saved you from your pathetic loneliness, from the cruel world that never appreciated you.

And this was how you repaid her?

No.

She would not accept this.

Her breathing was erratic, her thoughts spiraling as she stormed through her apartment, grabbing her laptop. She pulled up your details, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

She had been careful with you, never prying too deep into your personal information. She wanted you to tell her willingly, to trust her.

But now?

You didn’t deserve that kindness.

Her lips curled into a smile, though it was far from the sweet one you once loved.

"Found you."

Her obsession had just begun.

And no matter where you ran

No matter how far you tried to hide

Chuu would find you.

And when she did…

You would never escape again.

It had been months since you disappeared.

You had built a new life—one far from your past, far from the suffocating grasp of Chuu.

The paranoia had lingered at first. Every unfamiliar face in the crowd, every unexpected knock at your door sent your heart racing. But as time passed, you convinced yourself that she wouldn’t find you. That the distance was enough.

That you were safe.

Until tonight.

You had stayed late at the office, finishing up a project, the usual hum of work keeping you grounded. It was just another day—normal, quiet, safe.

But as you stepped into the lobby, making your way toward the elevator, something felt off.

A strange sensation prickled at the back of your neck, an instinct you had ignored too many times before.

The elevator doors slid open.

And there she was.

A girl stood inside, her figure partially obscured by the dim lighting. Her head tilted slightly as she waved, her fingers wiggling in an almost playful manner.

Something about the way she moved—too familiar.

Your stomach twisted.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath hitched, panic surging through you. You took a step back, choosing to wait for the next elevator instead. The doors began to close.

But before they could fully shut

They opened again.

And then

She was on you.

A blur of movement. A rush of perfume sweet, intoxicating, suffocating.

You barely had time to react before your back hit the cold wall, your breath stolen from your lungs.

And then you heard it.

That voice.

"Do you miss me? Because I definitely do."

A soft chuckle. Amused. Dangerous.

Your vision sharpened, your mind catching up to what your heart already knew.

It was her.

Chuu.

Her eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, her fingers gripping your shoulders as if to make sure you wouldn’t slip away again.

Your chest tightened, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your ears.

"Y-You"

Her grip tightened.

"Shh." She brought a finger to her lips, then tapped it playfully against yours. "You wouldn't want to cause a scene, would you?"

She was right. The lobby was mostly empty, but there were still a few people passing bysecurity guards, late workers, strangers who had no idea that the woman pinning you to the wall was not just a clingy lover, but a predator.

A predator who had finally caught her prey.

Her lips curved into a soft pout.

"Why did you run, love?" she murmured, tilting her head. "Did I scare you? Hurt you? Because I never wanted to do that. I just... missed you so much."

Her hands slid up your chest, slow, deliberate.

"You have no idea how hard it was to find you."

She let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head as if in disbelief.

"But I did. Because I always do."

A cold shiver ran down your spine.

This wasn’t just obsession.

This was possession.

And no matter how far you had run

You were hers again.

The air in the lobby felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a deafening echo in your ears. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could do was stare into those eyes, so familiar and yet so alien now, filled with a twisted kind of love that made your stomach churn.

Chuu.

She was here. She had found you.

Her lips curled into a soft smile, but there was nothing warm about it. It was predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. Her fingers trailed up the side of your face, her touch light but deliberate, as if she was memorizing every inch of you all over again.

“Did you really think you could run from me?” she whispered, her voice low and teasing. “Did you think I’d just let you go?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Chuu, I— I didn’t—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, pressing a finger to your lips. “Don’t lie to me. I know you, remember? I know every little thing about you. Everything you’ve tried to hide. Everything you’ve tried to bury. But you can’t hide from me. Not ever.”

Her words sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to push her away, to scream for help, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were frozen, trapped in her gaze, in her presence. She had always had this effect on you—this power over you—but now it felt different. Darker. More dangerous.

Her hand slid down to your chest, fingers splaying over your racing heart. “Do you feel that?” she murmured, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you scared of me, love? Or…” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “Are you excited?”

You flinched, your body trembling under her touch. “Chuu, please—”

“Please what?” she interrupted again, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. Her expression softened, but it was a mask—a facade. “Please stop? Please leave you alone? Do you really think it’s that easy? After everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Her voice cracked on the last word, a flicker of genuine emotion breaking through. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by that same cold, calculated smile.

“You’re mine,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You’ve always been mine. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension in her muscles as she held you in place. Her breath was quick, shallow, her chest rising and falling with each heartbeat.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke. “You were so nervous. So shy. But I knew you wanted me. I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me. And when our lips finally met…” She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “It was like the whole world disappeared. Just you and me. Together.”

Her words stirred something deep inside you, a memory you had tried so hard to forget. The way her lips had felt against yours, soft and warm. The way her hands had tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, making you hers. It had been intoxicating, overwhelming. And for a moment, you had believed she was everything you had ever wanted.

But that was before.

Before the messages. Before the demands. Before the suffocating weight of her obsession.

Now, all you felt was fear.

Her lips brushed against yours again, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ve missed this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve missed you. So much.”

You wanted to pull away—to run, to scream, to do anything but stand there and let her touch you. But your body wouldn’t move. You were paralyzed, trapped in her gaze, in her presence.

“Chuu,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Please…”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger passing through them. “Please what?” she snapped, her grip tightening on your shoulders. “Please stop? Please let you go? Do you really think I’m going to do that? After everything I’ve done to find you? After everything I’ve sacrificed?”

Her voice rose with each word, her frustration boiling over. But just as quickly as it erupted, it fizzled out, replaced by that same cold, calculating smile.

“No,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You’re not going anywhere. Not this time.”

Her lips crashed against yours, hard and desperate. You tried to pull away, but her hands gripped the back of your head, holding you in place. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, claiming you, marking you as hers. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and yet… familiar. You hated yourself for the way your body responded, for the way your heart raced, for the way your mind screamed at you to give in.

But you couldn’t. Not again.

You pushed against her chest, finally finding the strength to break the kiss. “Chuu, stop!”

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she pressed her forehead against yours, her breath hot and ragged. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Not anymore.”

Her hands slid down your body, gripping your hips as she pressed herself against you. You could feel the heat of her desire, the tension in her muscles as she held you in place.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve always been mine. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her lips found yours again, but this time, there was no resistance. You were hers, whether you wanted to be or not. And as much as you hated to admit it, part of you had missed this—missed her. The way she made you feel. The way she consumed you.

But as her hands roamed your body, as her lips claimed yours again and again, all you could think about was one thing.

This wasn’t love.

Was it?

Her lips crashed into yours, hard, forcing a gasp from your throat. The metallic taste of her desperation lingered on your tongue, her teeth nipping at your lower lip as if to punish you for running. Her hands were everywhere—gripping your shoulders, sliding down your chest, grabbing at your waist—claiming you, marking you, reminding you that you were hers.

"You really thought you could leave me?" she whispered against your mouth, her breath hot and ragged. Her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your body shudder involuntarily. "Did you think I’d just let you go?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and something else—something dangerous—twisting in your gut. You tried to push her away, but she was relentless, her body pressed so tightly against yours that you could feel every curve, every tremble of her anger and desire.

"Chuu—" you started, but she cut you off with a sharp bite to your neck, the sting making you hiss.

"Don’t," she hissed back, her voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. "Don’t say my name like that. Like you’re not mine. Like you ever stopped being mine."

Her hands moved to your belt, fast, her fingers working with a precision that left no room for resistance. You tried to grab her wrists, but she shoved your hands aside with a strength that surprised you, her eyes blazing with a wild, possessive fire.

"You’re mine," she repeated, her voice a dangerous whisper as she finally freed you from the confines of your pants. "And I’m tired of pretending otherwise."

You were trapped—pinned against the cold elevator wall, her body pressed so tightly against yours that you could feel the frantic beat of her heart. Her hands were on your hips now, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, her breath hot against your skin as she leaned in close.

"You’re going to take me," she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. "Right here. Right now. And you’re going to make sure I feel every single second of it."

Before you could respond, she was on you, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pushed herself onto you with a sharp, desperate gasp. You let out a choked groan, your hands instinctively grabbing her hips to steady her as she began to move, her body already riding you with a frantic intensity that left you breathless.

"Chuu—" you tried again, but she cut you off with a hard kiss, her lips silencing yours as her hips rolled against you, fast, rough, hard.

"Don’t stop," she breathed against your mouth, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Don’t you dare stop."

You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. The way she moved—the way her body gripped you, so tight, so wet, so perfect—was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Every thrust, every roll of her hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you gasping for air, your hands gripping her hips harder as she rode you with a wild, possessive abandon.

"You feel so good," she moaned, her voice breaking as she leaned back slightly, her hands braced against your chest for balance. "So fucking good. I missed this. Missed you."

Her eyes locked with yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, you were lost in them—in the raw, unfiltered desire that burned in her gaze. It was terrifying, the way she looked at you, the way she made you feel. Like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to her. Like she would die if she ever lost you.

And then she moved again, her hips slamming down onto you with a force that made you groan, your head thudding back against the elevator wall. She was relentless, her body moving with a frantic, almost feral energy, as if the only way to quell her anger, her pain, was to lose herself in you.

"Fuck—" you choked out, your hands tightening on her hips as she rode you harder, faster, her nails digging into your chest as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Cum for me," she whispered, her voice low and trembling with a mix of desperation and command. "Cum inside me. Prove that you’re mine."

You tried to hold back, to resist, but it was impossible. The way she moved, the way she looked at you, the way she felt around you—it was too much. Your hips jerked upward, your body betraying you as you spilled inside her with a groan, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she rode you through it, her own moans mingling with yours.

But she wasn’t done.

"Again," she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of desperation and need as she leaned back slightly, her hands moving to your shoulders for balance. "I’m not letting you stop until I’m satisfied."

You tried to protest, but the words died in your throat as she moved again, her hips rolling against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your body shudder. She was relentless, her body already working you back into hardness, her eyes locked onto yours as she rode you with a slow, sinful rhythm that left you gasping for air.

"Chuu—" you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp thrust of her hips, her nails digging into your shoulders as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Don’t stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Not until I’m done with you."

And then she was moving again, her body riding you with a wild, frantic energy that left you breathless, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she took you deeper, harder, faster. The sound of her moans filled the elevator, mingling with the sharp gasp of your own breath, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but her—her body, her touch, her obsession.

You couldn’t hold back. Your hips jerked upward again, your body betraying you as you spilled inside her once more, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she rode you through it, her own moans mingling with yours.

But she still wasn’t done.

"Chuu—" you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp thrust of her hips, her nails digging into your shoulders as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Don’t stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Not until I’m done with you."

The door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, the sound sharp and final, like the closing of a cage. Chuu’s hands were on you before you could even register her movement, pushing you toward the bedroom with a force that left no room for resistance. Her breath was hot against your ear, her voice a low, dangerous purr.

“You owe me,” she whispered, her nails digging into your arm as she guided you down the hallway. “You owe me for leaving. For making me chase you. For making me wait.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Fear. Desire. Guilt. You didn’t know what to feel anymore, only that her presence was overwhelming, consuming, like a fire that burned through everything in its path.

She pushed you onto the bed, her hands already moving to the drawer of the nightstand. You watched, frozen, as she pulled out a pair of silk ties, the fabric smooth and dark against her pale skin. Her eyes met yours, and the look in them sent a shiver down your spine—wild, unhinged, and utterly possessive.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling as she moved toward you, the ties in her hands. “Chuu, you don’t have to—”

Her lips curled into a smile, cold and detached. “Oh, but I do. You’ve been a very bad boy, running away like that. Do you think I’d let you off that easy?”

Before you could protest further, she had your wrists in her hands, tying them to the bedposts with a practiced ease that made your stomach churn. The silk was soft against your skin, but the restraint was anything but comforting. You tugged against the ties, testing their strength, but they held firm, leaving you trapped beneath her.

She stepped back, her eyes raking over you with a predatory gleam. “There,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now you can’t run away again.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her bare before you, her skin glowing in the dim light of the room. She was beautiful—stunning, even—but the way she looked at you, like you were nothing more than a plaything, made your chest tighten with unease.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling your hips with a grace that was almost hypnotic. Her hands trailed down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Tonight, you’re mine,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “And you’re going to give me everything I want.”

Her lips found yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip as her hands roamed your body. You tried to resist, to turn your head away, but she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Don’t fight it,” she murmured, her eyes dark with need. “You know you want this just as much as I do.”

Her hips rocked against yours, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through your body despite your fear. She smiled, sensing your weakness, and leaned down to capture your lips again, her tongue slipping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless.

Her hands moved lower, unbuttoning your pants with a deftness that left you no time to react. She pulled them off, along with your boxers, leaving you completely exposed, and you felt a flush of shame as she looked at you, her eyes roaming over your body with a predatory gleam.

“So eager already,” she purred, her hand wrapping around your length, stroking you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your hips buck against your will. “You can’t hide how much you want this.”

You clenched your teeth, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape your lips, but it was useless. She knew exactly how to touch you, how to make your body betray you, and before long, you were gasping for air, your hips jerking against her hand as she stroked you.

“Chuu,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please—”

“Please what?” she interrupted, her lips curling into a smirk as she leaned down, her breath hot against your ear. “Please keep going? Please make you come? Or are you going to beg me to stop?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind a blur of pleasure and fear as she continued to stroke you, her hand moving faster and faster until you were on the edge, your body trembling with the need to release.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her hand stopping abruptly, leaving you aching and desperate. “Not until I say so.”

She let go of you, climbing off the bed to retrieve something from the drawer. Your eyes followed her, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as you watched her pull out a bottle of lube. She caught your gaze, her lips curving into a smile as she climbed back onto the bed, straddling your hips once more.

“Relax,” she murmured, squeezing a generous amount of lube onto her fingers. “This might hurt a little, but I promise you’ll like it.”

Her fingers found your entrance, and you tensed, your body instinctively trying to pull away, but the ties around your wrists held you in place. She leaned down, her lips brushing against yours as she pushed a finger inside you, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of pain through your body.

“Breathe,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost soothing, as she slowly worked her finger inside you. “That’s it. Just relax.”

You tried to do as she said, focusing on your breathing as she moved her finger in and out, the pain slowly giving way to a strange, unfamiliar pleasure. She added a second finger, stretching you open, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips.

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips brushing against yours as she continued to prep you, her fingers moving with a precision that left you trembling. “You’re taking me so well.”

When she finally removed her fingers, you felt a strange emptiness, a need that you couldn’t quite explain. She positioned herself above you, her eyes locked on yours as she guided you inside her, the sensation overwhelming as she slowly lowered herself onto you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your back arching as she took all of you, her tight walls squeezing around you in a way that left you breathless.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her hands moving to your chest as she began to move, her hips rolling against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your head spin. “You’re mine now. All mine.”

Her pace quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she rode you, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours.

“Come for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Let me feel you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body trembling as you came inside her, the pleasure overwhelming as she continued to ride you through your release. She didn’t stop, not until she was satisfied, her own moans filling the room as she finally reached her peak, her body collapsing onto yours as she caught her breath.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, almost tender kiss. “But we’re not done yet.”

She untied your wrists, her hands moving to her nightstand for something else—something darker, more possessive. Your heart raced as you realized what she was reaching for, the glint of metal catching the light.

“Now,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re really mine.”

The cold metal clicked shut around your wrist, the weight of it grounding you in place as she smiled down at you, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “You’re never leaving me again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she silenced you with a kiss, her body moving against yours once more, her hips rolling with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left you gasping for air. “Again,” she demanded, her voice trembling with need. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body responded despite your fear, your hips bucking against hers as she rode you, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. “Come for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Let me feel you.”

“Good boy,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, almost tender kiss. “But we’re not done yet.”

“Now,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re really mine.”

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #update #kpop smut #yandere #yandere stories #chuu #loona chut #chuu smut #chuu x male reader #chuu x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere girl

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jandthecrow · 2 months ago

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Connected

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

SUMMARY: Simon gives you one of those trendy bracelets made for couples on Christmas Day. Literally saw an ad for it and immediately thought about this.

CW: SFW, wholesome, Soft!Simon, Christmas Day, established relationship, non gendered reader

The room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of wrapping paper. Snow fell lightly outside, the sun making the snow glow with a beautiful sheen. You and Simon sat close together on the living room floor, surrounded by open boxes and torn ribbons. The morning had been filled with laughter and surprises both big and small, but Simon had one last gift for you.

He reached behind the couch and pulled out a small box, wrapped in baby blue paper and tied with a simple white string. His fingers paused on it for a moment before he handed it to you, his eyes holding yours.

“This one’s… different. Don’t know if you’ll like it,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

You tilted your head, as you took the gift. “Different how?” You say examining the box and the little white snowflakes printed on the thin paper.

“Just open it,” he grunted, his gaze unwavering.

With a small smile, you tugged at the white string and peeled back the paper, revealing a sleek black box. Lifting the lid, you were met with the sight of two bracelets nestled inside; sleek, simple, and modern. One was slightly larger and blue, clearly meant for a bigger wrist; Simon’s wrist specifically. While the other was smaller and white gold - with a small skull printed on top (he had to stake his claim somehow lol) designed for a smaller wrist - yours.

“Wait… are these what I think they are?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“They are,” he confirmed, his tone gruff but softened by the emotion in his eyes. “Thought it’d be… useful. For when I’m not here.”

You picked up the smaller bracelet, running your fingers over its smooth surface. “They’re the ones that send a signal, right? To let the other person know you’re thinking of them?”

Simon nodded, his forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward watching you. “Yeah. You press the button, and it buzzes on the other end. Subtle. Nothing flashy.”

Your chest tightened as the weight of the gesture sank in. He wasn’t the type to voice his emotions often, but this - this was his way of saying he wanted to stay connected, even when countless miles separated you.

“I…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words to express your aching heart. “Simon, this is… it’s perfect.”

He shifted slightly, reaching for the other bracelet and sliding it onto his wrist. “It’s not much, but I figured… if you ever needed… or um missed me… or maybe if I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you - this would help.”

You slipped your own bracelet onto your wrist, marveling at how well it fit. “It’s more than enough,” you said softly, pressing the small button on the side.

A faint vibration buzzed against Simon’s wrist, and his eyes crinkled at the edges as he glanced down at the bracelet. Without a word, he pressed his own button, and you felt the gentle pulse against your wrist in return.

The exchange was silent, but it spoke volumes.

“This way, you’ll never be alone… even when I’m not there for you,” he said his voice breaking and filled with a rare tenderness.

You reached over, placing your hand on top of his. “And neither will you.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the fire place crackling as the fire danced. The world outside seemed to slow, as if the world was giving you this moment to savor.

“Merry Christmas, Simon,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The bracelets weren’t just a gift but a promise. No matter where he was, or how far apart you might be, you’d always have a way to reach each other. A silent signal that said, I’m here. I’m thinking of you. And for both of you, it was everything you could ever ask for.

#cod #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #wholesome #merry christmas #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #established relationship #lovers #braclets #fluff #holiday fic

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thefemigirl · 1 month ago

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★ Dress Expensive Tips

Let me tell you about something that’s completely changed the way I approach getting dressed: learning how to create an elegant, elevated look—without blowing my budget.

Turns out, you don’t need a closet full of designer pieces to look (and feel) like the best version of yourself. It’s all about working with what you’ve got, adding a few chic investments, and a dash of creativity.

▸ Find Your Shape

Choosing silhouettes that flatter your body makes any outfit look intentional.

Experiment with different cuts (like wide-leg pants vs. skinny jeans) to see which shape brings out your confidence. A quick mirror check can reveal if a piece truly complements you.

▸ Discover Your Colours

Neutrals are classic, but the right pop of color can bring you to life.

Notice which hues make your complexion glow—try pastels, jewel tones, or soft neutrals. If you’re not sure, look for style inspo from people with similar skin tones and test-drive their palette. Using ▹ Pinterest ◃ can be very helpful!

▸ Accessorise with Intention

A few well-chosen pieces can completely transform a basic outfit.

Invest in simple, high-quality everyday jewellery (like gold hoops or a delicate necklace). For statement occasions, add eye-catching pieces—think drop earrings or layered bracelets.

▸ Make the Bag Count

Your purse can be the perfect accent or a major distraction.

Have a reliable everyday bag that’s very good quality. For special outings, grab a fun, budget-friendly statement bag that pops without clashing with your outfit.

▸ Elevate Your Shoes

Footwear can make or break your look in seconds.

Swap casual flip-flops for a sleek flat or kitten heel. If you prefer sneakers, pick a simple, versatile style that doesn’t overpower the outfit.

▸ Tailor and Iron

Wrinkles and poor fit can dull even the prettiest pieces.

Iron or steam your clothes to keep them looking fresh. And if something doesn’t fit quite right, consider tailoring (or learning some basic sewing skills) to make it your own.

▸ Build a Strong Foundation

Basics aren’t boring—they’re the backbone of a versatile wardrobe.

Stock up on neutral tops, flattering jeans, and a few layering pieces. Mix and match these staples with your statement items for endless outfit combos.

Looking elegant is about knowing your body, playing with colour, and being thoughtful with how you style every piece. Your wardrobe should celebrate you—every curve, every shade, and every bit of your beautiful personality.

Sending you so much love on finding your next outfits,

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tbshorts · 3 months ago

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Turtwig and Torterra are almost perfect. Grotle........ is also there.

youtube

Chimchar really doesn't look like much, but Infernape absolutely rips

youtube

Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically a legendary

youtube

Video scripts below the cut

Turtwig:

Ah, the worst gen 4 starter - I'm kidding! I'm kidding. It's only second worst. It's a simple concept, executed well: what if a tortoise was also the seed of a plant, and as the tortoise grows, so does the tree on its shell. It recalls the idea of world turtles, the best cosmological concept, which is also hinted at in Torterra's pokédex entries.

But, right, Turtwig - like most starters it's mostly designed to be cute, with its broad smiling jaw and oversized upper lip and chibi proportions. The lil' twig with the two leaves on the head is just adorable, it's the pokémon version of a propeller hat, and I'm really charmed by it.

As for Grotle, well, middle stages are often awkward, and with its weird almost caterpillar body shape and two… bushes(?) on the back, it looks a bit half-finished. It really could have done more to imply a flowering garden on its back, it looks too barren.

Torterra, though? Fuck yeah, Torterra, this pokémon is so fucking cool. A giant tortoise with legs like tree trunks and claws made of boulders, and hills and trees perched upon its back, that RULES. My only criticism is that it is way too small in-game. If it was Wailord sized, it'd be S-tier.

Grade: A

Chimchar

Chimchar is probably the weakest design among the starters, both it and Monferno never really transcend just being… monkeys with fire on their tails. Chimchar has the… well it's supposed to be the shape of a small ember on its head, but let's be real, it looks like a poop, and there just isn't enough THERE to make it more than what it seems on the surface.

Monferno at least has the blue and red face markings, slightly recalling the idea of a mandrill, which is cool, and a bit of that wild white collar, which, okay, that's something, but it still barely looks special - if anything it looks like a first-stage evolution, honestly.

Infernape, thankfully, makes up for a LOT of lost ground. The billowing fire hair gives it a sense of dynamism, the powerful red crest on the face makes it look tough, the bright white is striking and the decorative gold pads on its body recalls how divinity is often decorated in Asian art. It's trite to compare every mystical monkey to Sun Wukong, but it does feel like some of him or Hanuman is in here, the design has a ton of charisma. And I really like that it remains slim, it looks agile, quick, clever, and more than a little mischievous. Weak pre-evolution designs are worth it to get to here.

Grade: B

Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically legendary

Piplup is the cutest gen 4 starter and also the best designed, this lil' guy is such an instant and immediate charmer. Being a baby penguin, how could it not be, but also the way that its blue markings are "fastened" on its beak and cascade down into a cloak hanging over its shoulders gives it a real "preschool kid in a raincoat" vibe that I love, and the two "buttons" on the tummy like it's wearing overalls just… god it's cute.

Prinplup avoids the awkwardness of middle stage evolutions, looking both cute with its plump little body, buttons and tailcoat, like a kid wearing his first fancy suit, but also like it's fast and powerful, thanks to those sleek fins and the head crest.

Empoleon, meanwhile… like holy shit, this thing looks like a LEGENDARY. The beak extending into a shape which is both a crown AND a trident is genuinely brilliant design, the picture of a nautical ruler. The stippling on the white marking makes it look like a fancy cravat of a king or prince, the hard edges of its collar look at once regal and dangerous, like it could slice you to piece with it, and together with those shield-like hard fins gives it an air of invulnerability almost. This thing is INTIMIDATING, it's regal, it's powerful, it's amazing!

Grade: S

#tb posting #pokemon #pokémon #pokémon diamond #pokémon pearl #pokémon gen 4 #piplup #prinplup #empoleon #turtwig #grotle #torterra #chimchar #monferno #infernape #Youtube

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clawsdevour · 5 months ago

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hq charas proposal + rings hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: all fluff!!, reader x all hq charas, not proofread

.⠀✶;..

-the type to believe in 'the bigger the diamond, the bigger the heart' as in their love for you. the really don't care about how it the ring may be perceived by others because they won't know how much they love you enough to find you the biggest diamond in store.

"okay.. um. OH MY GOD! i think i just saw a squirrel," while they point somewhere behind you, struggling to get onto one knee before you whip your head around to see the love of your life with one knee on the floor. "i lied there was no squirrel.. but i never lie about how much i love you, will you marry me?"

charas: hinata shoyo, bokuto koutaro, tanaka ryunosuke, nishinoya yu

─

-the type to get you a diamond-encrusted ring.. hear me out okay. not the ugly tacky ones but a simple one where it's just tiny diamonds all over where you can wear it with every outfit. even though it's already encrusted with multiple diamonds.. they believe you're more than just that amount on the ring they proposed with.

"This ring may not seem like much when it comes to diamonds. But it somewhat expresses at least a quarter of my love for you. I promise to continue making you the happiest you'll ever be whenever we're together and add to the diamonds on your finger along the way. What do you say? Will you marry me?"

charas: osamu miya, daichi sawamura, oikawa tooru, atsumu miya

─

-the type to propose to you with an elegant but extravagant ring that has three stone diamonds in the middle. they think that two more on the sides of the middle are better than just one and that it just matches how they saw you more. either way.. the way they perceive you doesn't change but the love and adoration they have for you which increases daily.

"love, ever since i met you that day. all i could see was you looking down at me from above as i slid a ring on your finger. all i could think about was how i wanted to be the best man you could ever have.. please, will you marry me?"

charas: kuroo tetsurou, yaku morisuke, sugawara koshi, iwaizumi hajime

─

-the type to find a sleek and elegant ring to do more than one with a diamond. something about the easy-going and smooth design drew them in, similar to your promise rings when you first starting dated had nostalgia washing over them while they went shopping for your engagement rings.

"this might not look like much... well, that's because i wanted them to look like the rings we had when we first started dating. the promise rings were already like wedding rings. the spark of joy i felt when you wanted to match something so symbolic in a relationship had ideas of being bonded together for life running courses in my head. so why don't we get them permanently and.. get married?"

charas: kita shinsuke, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, akaashi keiji

─

-the type to purchase a simple regular diamond ring.. however, a very valuable one that made their bank account gulp. either way, they still swiped that card because they know that the amount they're spending isn't even enough to match the amount of love they have in store for you.. or even your wedding night. everytime you'd question them how much they spent on your ring, they're definitely brushing it off.. never letting you know.....

"wow.. i don't even know what to say but marry me, please. since day one i couldn't take you off my mind. all i could ever think about was having a future with you in it, right next to me. please.. will you do the honors of marrying me?"

charas: sakusa kiyoomi, kenma kozume, suna rintarou, ushijima wakatoshi

masterlist here

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kathlare · 3 months ago

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inked in love

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a successful qualifying session in Montreal, Lando Norris finds himself in a tattoo shop with his boss, Zak Brown, who’s getting a commemorative tattoo. Inspired by their playful banter, Lando decides to make a bold, sentimental gesture for Amelie, marking a small piece of himself with a tribute to her.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

June 6th, 2024 - Montreal, Canada

The streets of Montreal were buzzing with fans and excitement as Lando Norris walked out of the McLaren motorhome after a solid qualifying session. He had bagged P3, and while it wasn’t pole, it was still a prime spot to fight for the podium—and maybe even a win. Zak Brown, his boss and occasional partner-in-crime, clapped him on the back with a wide grin.

—Good job today, kid,— Zak said. —You earned yourself a night off. What do you say we head to that tattoo shop I mentioned?—

Lando smirked. Zak had been talking about this tattoo ever since his Miami win last month. He wanted to commemorate the team’s victory with a track outline on his forearm.

—Sure,— Lando said with a shrug. —Why not? Let’s get you inked up, boss.—

As they walked into the tattoo shop, the smell of antiseptic and ink greeted them. The place was modern, with sleek black furniture and walls adorned with framed artwork. Zak looked around like a kid in a candy store, while Lando leaned casually against the counter, texting Amelie.

Lan🧡: Guess where I am.

Ames💛: Considering the time? A bar or a bad decision.

Lan🧡: Close. Tattoo shop with Zak.

Ames💛: OMG, no way. Is Zak actually doing it?

Lan🧡: Yep. Miami track. Says it’s “team spirit.” 😂

Ames💛: Love that for him. Are YOU getting one? 👀

Lan🧡: Tempted. What should I get?

Ames💛: Hmm… a tribute to your incredible girlfriend? Maybe my face on your arm.

Lan🧡: Bold choice. What about your name?

Ames💛: Nah, too basic. Do an “A” or something cute.

Lan🧡: Bet.

Ames💛: You wouldn’t.

Lan🧡: Watch me.

Lando chuckled at their banter, but as he looked around the shop, an idea sparked in his mind. It was reckless, maybe even stupid, but it was also... perfect.

When Zak got called to the chair, Lando casually approached one of the artists, a young woman with bright purple hair.

—Hey,— he said, lowering his voice. —Think you could fit me in for something small?—

The artist raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Zak, who was laughing as he showed the artist his design.

—What are we talking about?— she asked.

Lando tapped his shoulder, just below the edge of his shirt sleeve. —A small ‘A’ here. Simple, clean, nothing fancy.—

The artist nodded. —Easy enough. You sure about this?—

Lando grinned. —Completely.—

While Zak was busy wincing through his session, Lando slipped into the second chair. The artist prepped his shoulder, and as the needle buzzed to life, he felt a mixture of excitement and nerves.

—This your first tattoo?— she asked as she worked.

—Yeah,— Lando admitted. —But it’s for someone special, so I think it’s worth it.—

The tattoo didn’t take long—just a few minutes of sharp pressure before the artist leaned back with a satisfied nod.

—All done,— she said, handing him a mirror.

Lando craned his neck to look at the tiny ‘A’ etched onto his skin. It was subtle, just a couple of centimeters tall, but it was perfect.

—Looks great,— he said, his smile widening.

Back at the hotel, Lando called Amelie.

—What’s up, troublemaker?— she teased as she answered, her face lighting up on the screen.

—Oh, nothing much,— he said casually. —Just wanted to show you something.—

He angled the camera to his shoulder, pulling his shirt slightly aside to reveal the fresh tattoo.

Amelie froze.

—Lando,— she said, her voice a mix of disbelief and awe. —You didn’t.—

—I did,— he replied, grinning like a kid who’d just gotten away with something naughty.

She stared at the screen, her fingers covering her mouth. —You seriously got an ‘A’ for me?—

—For you,— he confirmed, his tone softer now. —It’s where you usually kiss me, so... felt right.—

Her heart felt like it might burst. —Lando... that’s the sweetest, and dumbest, thing you’ve ever done.—

—You love it,— he said confidently.

—I do,— she admitted, shaking her head with a laugh. —But if you ever regret it....—

—Not a chance,— he interrupted. —I love you, Amelie. And this? It’s just ink. You’re what matters.—

She smiled, her eyes glistening. —You’re such a sap, Norris.—

—Only for you,— he shot back, winking.

As they continued talking, teasing, and laughing, Amelie couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by how much he cared. Lando Norris, reckless and endearing as ever, had a piece of her etched onto his skin—and onto her heart.

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alahmorah · 2 months ago

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Picturesque Pranks

A/N: I’m excited to be writing again and to share it with others. This was fun! I hope you enjoy it. I always love stories with plenty of fun dialogue, so I hope it reflects in my writing.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, no y/n used

Warnings: 18+ only, Smut. No one’s read this but me, so mistakes may have been made lol. Praise and dirty talk.

Summary: Bucky and you are friends who enjoy pranking your fellow teammates, The Avengers. You’re stuck alone in a safe house after a mission and find yourselves in a predicament. Bucky is hot, as always.

The small cabin you were achingly drudging towards was an old safehouse. The mission that just kicked your butt was over, and you and your teammate were supposed to be picked up here by the rest of your team. The only problem was that another mission had arisen, as they frequently do, and Tony had called to let you know there would be a slight delay. "It should just be a day or two, honestly. But, we've got a lead that we've got to take now, and..." he sounded rushed and admittedly apologetic. You kind of zoned out as he relayed the information on this lead -- something about a big-shot mobster with international clout making some sort of deal -- and you didn't care. You were tired and had walked miles through the woods after your getaway vehicle sputtered to a stop. Apparently, the hail of bullets that sprayed down upon you as you escaped had caused several important fluid leaks. You'd been looking forward to the ride back home on the Quinjet, but this cabin would have to do for now.

Your partner had been silent ever since you made your escape, only groaning when the car broke down. As soon as you entered, he muttered "Finally" and proceeded to guzzle three bottled waters from the stash left in the fridge. His metal hand crushed each one as he emptied it, tossing it into the small plastic basketball goal some goofball had hung above the trash can. The interior around you was so random and quaint. It was nothing like the sleek and technologically forward designs that you were used to, and none of the decor had Pepper's special touch. You were used to living with the Avengers, and this screamed cottage-chic. You supposed that it wasn't made to look like a hideout, so it made sense. You started checking out the ingredients in the pantry, deciding on making some quick and filling spaghetti. "How's Italian sound, Bucky?" You held up the jar of sauce and box of noodles you'd found.

"Honestly, that sounds perfect. Do you mind if I take a quick shower while you get it started? I promise to warm us up a can of green beans when I get out...might even consider adding some salt and pepper to 'em." He ripped off his mud-caked shirt while he asked, causing you to quickly avert your eyes from his strong torso. "Umm, okay Gordon Ramsey, don't show off too much. And, yes, please get out of those filthy clothes." You turned away from him to hide your blush as you realized what you'd said. He chuckled, "Yes ma'am" as he made his way to the small bathroom in the back of the house.

You hummed a tune as you filled up a pot with water and thought about the water that was making its way down the planes of Bucky's body right now. You dumped some back out into the sink as it overflowed, your thoughts keeping you from performing simple tasks. The noodles were done by the time he returned to the kitchen, and you heard him slowly walk up behind you as you were getting ready to drain them. "Here, doll, let me help. Oh, and don't you dare laugh. Just avert your eyes if you need to." He carefully grabbed the hot, heavy pot from your hands and proceeded to drain the water into the sink. You get a good look at him and let out an embarrassingly loud laugh, unable to catch your breath at the sight before you. Bucky just sets the pot down and does a little twirl as he rolls his eyes. "Ha, ha, ha. I know it's terribly funny, doll, but I swear this was the best of the four choices I was forced to make." Your eyes roam over his super-soldier body, which is currently adorned in a blue muumuu with a delicate yellow flower print. You finally catch your breath, "You've got to be kidding me. Why the hell would they stock a safe house with muumuus?"

He rolls his eyes, "I have a feeling this was all Stark. I doubt they're even on another mission, I think he's just fucking with us. I don't care at this point, I just want to eat and rest. I'll chew him out tomorrow."

Looking down at your dirty clothes, you realize there's no way you can sleep like this. "Ugh, I guess I have to accept my fate, too. Can you dump the sauce on the noodles and make your famous green beans while I clean off real quick? I'll just be a few minutes."

"Yeah, go for it. There's not a washer, but I'll handwash our clothes after we eat so we can hang them to dry. I'm not giving anyone else a chance to see me in this."

As he gets to work on finishing the meal, you head to the tiny bathroom. The heady aroma of Bucky's scent and soap washes over you, and you shiver under the hot stream. You swear he was going to drive you crazy. You and Bucky had a natural friendship from the start. He wasn't one to open up to new people easily, but something about your personalities just meshed. You often annoyed the team with your inside jokes and small pranks you'd pull on them. They were always harmless, just silly things like the time you replaced all of the spoons with gag spoons that had holes in them, or when you switched all of Tony's boxers with Natasha's lingerie...oh. Suddenly, your situation made a lot more sense. That happened months ago, and Tony laughed it off like it was nothing. Now you had to set some ground rules for the prank war that was sure to start. The first rule is to keep it at home.

You quickly finished cleaning up and wandered into the only bedroom in your towel. When you opened the closet door, you were confronted with three muumuus of varying colors. You grabbed one at random and went to the drawers to hopefully find some underwear. The first drawer was full of socks, so you checked the other three to find... more socks. There wasn't any underwear, and all of yours and Bucky's clothes were in the bathroom, which meant he didn't have anything on underneath either. Even the fact that he was in a muumuu did nothing to quell your body's response to that thought. You swiftly pulled the garment over your head, your stomach growling loudly as the scent of dinner made its way to you.

Bucky was sitting patiently at the table in front of two steaming plates of spaghetti and green beans when you entered, and he did nothing to hide his laughter at your appearance. "Thanks for dressing up for the occasion, doll." he smiles widely, spinning his fork in the spaghetti, and taking a big bite. "Mmm, to be honest, these things are comfortable. Maybe we can get the whole crew on board for Muumuu Spaghetti Mondays or something."

"Yeah, we can get a red, white, and blue one for Steve. I'm sure he'll go for it." As you imagine the formidable Avengers in muumuus, your shoulders shake with silent laughter. Bucky and you take a few moments to eat without filling the space with words.

The image of Tony flying around with a muumuu flapping wildly in the wind fills your mind, and you speak up, "By the way, I can't believe I forgot about what we did to Tony a few months back...of course this is all him."

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to remember. He's probably going to show up any minute so he can snap a picture and," Bucky's words stopped mid-sentence as the lights all went off suddenly, "speak of the devil." He quickly got up and went outside, looking for a sign of the man himself, while you picked up your plate and headed to the door, still shoveling spaghetti into your mouth. The night was exceptionally dark, as the moon and stars were covered by dense clouds. There was no sign of the Quinjet or a vehicle, and your eyes followed the dark shape of Bucky's figure as he searched the area. After a few minutes of quiet eating, you almost jumped as he rounded the corner of the house. "There's no sign of anyone. I checked the breaker, and it seems to just be a power outage." he huffed.

"Seems being the key word...I'm calling him." You carefully made your way back to the table to deposit your plate, quickly hitting Tony's name in your phone. He didn't answer but sent you a text a few seconds later.

Sry, busy. Surveillance. Sup?

Dude, the lights? Seriously? Stop fucking around.

Idk what you're talking bout.

Electricity's out at the cabin. I know you're getting us back, we found the clothes. Game's over, Tony.

Look, I g2g. Sorry bout the electricity, but it wasn't me. I take responsibility for the clothes, though. Lol.

You really on a mission?

I swear. I'm sorry, but we'll be there when we can.

K, I'm trusting you.

Good. Have fun, and take a pic of Barnes for me.

"You're not getting that picture, punk." You felt his warm breath on your neck, and goosebumps erupted over you. While texting Tony, you hadn't realized how close he had gotten. "Trust me, I wasn't about to obey him. Besides, we need to save the battery on our phones. We don't know when the power will be back on or when they'll be here to get us."

"Mmm...I guess so. Well, what now? I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly sleepy." You hear him shuffle about and rinse your plates in the sink.

"Well, it's too dark to read, we can't watch Netflix, can't play a board game. I guess we just have to entertain each other till we're ready for bed." you reach out for direction as you make your way to brush your teeth. The dark wasn't about to keep you from good dental hygiene. Thankfully, there were unopened toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in the cabinet that you both quickly used. He held your hand and led you through the unlit hallway to the bedroom, only letting go once you were sitting on the bed. "I'll be right back, doll...just gonna clean our clothes and hang them to dry."

You reached out, quickly grasping the metal of his arm. "I'll help," you started to stand when you felt both of his hands firmly on your shoulders.

"Hey, let me do this for us. Take some deep breaths and relax, I promise I'll be back soon, ya punk."

"Okay, okay. Thank you." You took his advice, though it didn't help you relax much. The sounds of him washing in the other room mixed with the consistent thump of your heartbeat in your ears. This symphony blended with the thoughts of sleeping next to him tonight and the worry about accidentally revealing your feelings in some way. You were wound up even tighter by the time he returned.

While the weather outside was calm and cool, the temperature inside the cabin was comfortable with a slight tinge of a chill in the air. You could feel Bucky's warmth as soon as he dipped onto the bed.

You picked up one of the smaller pillows from the mismatched selection and turned it over in your hands nervously. "Well, there's a fireplace in the living room that we can use if it gets any colder...we might want to see if we can find any candles around here tomorrow, too. If they haven't returned by then."

"While you're right, let's not think about tomorrow." He placed his hand on top of the pillow you were spinning. "Are you okay, doll? You seem a bit jittery."

"Yeah, sorry. The mission is still fresh in my mind, not to mention we don't know how long we're going to be here with no power. I guess it has made me a little anxious. I know everything's going to be fine." You shifted slightly closer to him. He was sitting near the end of the bed, facing you, and you were at the head of the bed. Your eyes had slowly adjusted to the inky blackness around you, and you could make out his shape. You wished you could view the details of his face right now and see the expressions that came across it. His body heat and your blush warmed your body as you felt him come closer, your crossed legs now touching his.

"Let's play a little game to relax your mind." His smooth voice dropped down to a husky tone. "What do ya say?"

"Okay, sure. Did you have something in mind?"

"How about word association? We can take turns saying a word or name, and the other person has to say the first thing that comes to mind. I used to play it with Steve. It's so simple, but it can help get emotions out and clear your head. Wanna try?"

"I'm down. Will you start?"

"Absolutely. Okay....Tony"

"Asshole!"

He laughed heartily. "See? That felt good right?"

You nodded into the void of the room, "Yeah, it did. Umm...blanket"

"Fort. I haven't made a blanket fort since I was a kid. Potato."

"Soup... sounds good. Hard"

"Wood. Lip"

"Stick. Blue"

"Balls." he said quickly.

You laughed hard, trying to catch your breath and falling backwards onto the pillows.

"Blue balls are no laughing matter, sweetheart." You could hear the smile in his voice as he tried to avoid laughing.

"I mean, it's kind of funny that that's the first thing you thought of." You just knew he was rolling his eyes. "Okay, Buck, give me a word."

"Blow"

"Suck. Hand"

"Job." he let out a quiet laugh, "Sorry, but once a game starts getting dirty it's hard to steer it back to normal."

"S'okay, Buck, we're both adults here." You hated how breathy your voice sounded now. He was getting to you, as he always was. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him, though you couldn't make out the expression on his face to help you judge the situation. The risk of losing Bucky as a close friend kept you from moving forward. You didn't want to push your romantic feelings on him, though you knew you couldn't keep them secret forever. You extended your legs beside him and reached out for his arm, needing something to anchor you in the midst of your storm of thoughts. Your fingers landed on cool metal. "Will you lay down with me? Please?"

His shadowed figure moved to your side and stretched out. "Sure. Ugh, this feels so much better. Alright, it's my turn still. Let's see, Steve."

"America." This drew a chuckle from him. "Whipped"

"Cream. Lap"

"Dance. I got a question for you, Buck. What word starts with f and ends with u-c-k?"

He paused a moment, trying to think of anything but the obvious. "I've got to be honest with you, doll. Fuck is the only word I can think of right now."

"Firetruck, Bucky! Your mind is so dirty."

"You got that right." He shifted his bare legs next to yours, causing warm, electric jolts to move up your leg to your center. "Well, doll, I'd tell you a joke about my penis, but it's too long."

"Oh, yeah? Well, do you want to hear a joke about my vagina?"

"Sure."

"Nevermind, you'll never get it."

"Is that so?"

"Mmmm...possibly."

"Baby, are you a sea lion? Cause I see you lyin' in my bed."

As turned on as you undoubtedly were, Bucky still made you laugh uncontrollably. You both giggled, trying to release the tension that had been building up since the day you met.

You caught your breath just long enough to utter, "Is that muumuu from space? Because your ass is out of this world!" Another round of chuckles erupted, only to slowly come to a stop when you felt both his warm flesh and cool metal hands cup your cheeks.

"I love to hear you laugh, doll. There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with in a tiny cabin with only muumuus to wear." You nuzzled into his touch, brushing your lips against his palm. His breath hitched, and he retreated his flesh hand quickly. You were instantly worried that you'd taken it too far, and your mouth opened to apologize when you suddenly felt his soft lips upon yours. Bucky's hand crept up the back of your head into your hair, and you moaned into the gentle kiss. You could feel his smile as you vocalized your appreciation.

He pulled back slightly, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. "I take it that sound means this is okay with you, doll?"

"It's more than okay, Bucky." Your lips met his again, capturing his plump bottom lip between your own. The low hum of his groan ignited you both, and you both opened up, tasting each other. You were quickly drunk on Bucky; his smell, taste, and touch were all that you could focus on.

He shifted in the bed, making his way between your thighs, which spread open eagerly in anticipation of feeling him completely. "Baby, you've been driving me crazy since the day we met. Steve had to talk me out of pursuing you. He said the way I was eye-fucking you in front of our teammates was unprofessional."

"Steve said that?"

"In his own words," he let out a breathy sigh and rubbed his hard length against you, "you feel that, babe? That's what you do to me every day. Every time I watch you fight, when you stumble into the kitchen half-asleep in the mornings, or when you get mad at paperwork, it doesn't matter. I always want you, want to hold you, fuck you senseless."

"Please," you start pulling up on the flowing garment in the way of his gorgeous body, "please, let's get out of these."

"Mmm, I love how eager you are, baby." He pulled the clothing over his head in one swift motion, but stopped your hands as they pulled at your own fabric. His large hands engulfed yours, forcing you to slow your movement up your thighs.

"I can't do this if you're unsure in any way, doll. I want you for more than a night, more than a few months. This can only happen if you want to be mine as much as I want to be yours." He nuzzled his nose against yours, his mouth open so close to yours.

You tried to taste him again, but he moved just out of reach as he waited for your answer. "I've been yours, Bucky...always have been." He groaned into your mouth as your tongues met again, slowly savoring one another. He pulled the garment further up to your hips. His thumbs caressed your hips on either side before he moved them back to grab your ass. "Mmm, so soft."

You whined as he continued to slowly bring the fabric up your body, molding his hands to your sides as he went. He finally removed it, but just as you thought he would ravish you, he pulled himself back. Your collective pants of want filled the silence of the dark room. You heard him take a shaky breath as you felt his hands gently touch your cheeks, moving down your neck and the sides of your breasts before stroking your waist. The wait made your skin even more sensitive; trails of goosebumps were the evidence of his light touch. "God, I wish I could see you," he groaned.

Unable to help yourself any longer, you smoothed your palms down his chest and abs, feeling the softness of the steely muscle. You felt your heart skip a beat at the light gasps he let out as your hands explored him. As your touch traveled lower, he stopped your movement and leaned forward. "Please...everything in me wants to savor you first. You're making a mess of me, doll." His lips met yours again as he lowered himself, before kissing his way down your neck. Sharp bolts of pleasure shot through you with every touch, every kiss. He was igniting you in a way you've never felt, and the intensity you experienced with each pass of his lips was leaving you breathless. His hands molded over your breasts, and you once again relished the duality of cool and hot, soft and hard.

"You're so gorgeous and so, so responsive for me." He smoothed his fingers over your hard nipples, circling them gently and making you ache even more for him. The sensations jolted through your body, and you could feel yourself grow wetter with each caress. Bucky added his soft tongue to the mix, alternating between lapping at each peak and sucking lightly. As he made his way down achingly slowly, his teeth grazed your breast and sensitive stomach.

His warm breath set you on fire, and you were torn between pulling him up for more kisses and lifting your hips to align his mouth with your core.

You felt his lips on you first, softly kissing your clit. You let out a pleased, breathy moan as he eased into it, warming you up with gentle kisses and suction. Then, his tongue swept across your clit and you yelped at the pleasure.

He hummed deep in his throat, and you felt the vibrations from his mouth on you. "Ah, fuck," you uttered, unable to hold back all the sounds he was coaxing from you. Your hands released the sheets they were gripping beneath you to grab Bucky carefully by his hair. You accidentally tugged the strands once he started moving back and forth on the perfect spot, and he groaned in pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs rougher than before, and you could feel him grind against the bed as he tasted you. You felt yourself clench tighter.

The contrast of his hands on each of your thighs heightened the sensations of his tongue. You felt as though you would burst when he lifted his head to groan, "Mmm, I've been missing out."

"Bucky, I want you in me so bad" you gripped his strands again, eager for him to enter you.

"And I want you to come first, doll," he started thrusting his tongue into you, teasing you with what he knew you wanted.

"I'm, mmm, going to explode if you don't fuck me," you shook, feeling yourself losing control as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

"Fuck yes, please explode for me."

It was easy to comply with his command as he started to swirl his tongue on the perfect spot. You gasped, and he knew you were done for. "Mmmhmm," he vocalized deeply, urging you to release for him. He pressed two fingers inside, flexing them and massaging with a skilled rhythm as his colder fingers smoothed over your nipple. Your pleasure rose and burst, rumbling through your entirety.

"So delicious..." he nipped at your quivering thighs as you came down.

You caught your breath for a moment before moving to sit up. "Please, Bucky, please let me taste you."

He groaned deeply, almost growling. "If I let you do that now, I'm done for sweetheart. Another time, I promise."

"Let me ride you then? Fuck, I need you, I want to make you feel good."

"You're already making all my dreams come true, doll" he lays down and you quickly straddle him. He's so hard and hot against your cunt, and you can't help but slowly rub yourself up and down the underside of his length. You lean forward, suddenly desperate for his taste again. He's just as ready for the kiss, leaning up to catch your lips and tongue with his own. You lose yourself for a moment as you devour each other, before Bucky's whimper alerts you to his need.

You move your hips to catch the head of his thick cock and sink down gradually, allowing yourself to both adjust to his size and fully appreciate the moment.

"That's it...you're so perfect." He twitched inside you as you sat all the way down, stilling yourself for a moment once you fully engulfed him. You stay this way, feeling full, as his hands caress your hips. He drags them down your quivering thighs, which ignites you to lift up and slowly push back down. You can feel him trembling beneath you. It's as if you're both fighting the all-consuming passion you feel inside by keeping this leisurely pace, but you want to savor your first time together and remember every second. With each gentle drag of your hips, his groans become more drawn out and louder.

Bucky breaks first. "Fuck, I've got to..." he sits up and grabs you, flipping you around to the bottom. He's shaking with need as he grips your thighs and lifts your hips before entering you. You don't know how long you can handle this new angle, it's so good and hits everything inside of you just right. He leans forward enough that your clit slides against him with every thrust, which are steady and deep.

"You're going to make me come again" you breathe out, trying to not sound as desperate as you undoubtedly are.

“That’s what I’m hoping for, doll.”

You grip his rocking hips with your thighs, trapping him against you. You’re so close and need to feel him as closely as possible while he fucks into you.

“That’s so hot, baby” he whimpered, “squeezing me like that, fuck. I’ll stay here as long as you need, sugar.”

He leans down to nip at your ear, groaning “I only want to here between your luscious thighs, baby. Need your cunt, yeah, need you like this all the time. So perfect for me…” Bucky's words turn into moans and whimpers mixed with your name.

You could feel him swelling inside you, his hips wildly thrusting now. Your own end was blossoming throughout your body, quickly building. “Cum inside me, Bucky, it’s safe. Please.”

His groans came out with every movement now, and the sound of Bucky coming undone made you get there first. Your thighs trembled against him as your orgasm took over your muscles, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. At the peak of your bright, spasming pleasure, you felt the heat of Bucky’s cum filling you. He looked euphoric as he gasped and fucked into you with a few more powerful strokes as you both let go of everything together.

Bucky took a moment to catch his breath, then gently brought his face close to yours, kissing your lips and neck reverently. “You're finally all mine…needed you for so long…” He mumbles against your skin as he stays inside of you, your bodies still together. You spread your fingers over his beating heart and doze off happily.

You drift slowly out of a comfortable dream as the dance of light is perceived through your closed eyes. You feel so warm, so safe. As you shift, you feel Bucky move to pull you closer, and you smile.

It’s too cozy to get up or even to open your eyes, so you just nuzzle closer to him, feeling his bare skin against yours. He drags his fingers through your hair and you feel him sit up slightly. His touch moves down your neck and shoulders. “Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby. You open your eyes to meet his heated gaze as it drifts over your body. Something about the moment feels otherwordly, like you’re both still dreaming, but as you hear the quick turn of the door handle and the click of a camera, you both turn your eyes to see Tony himself.

“Oh shit…um, guys, hang back. DO NOT COME IN, I repeat, DO NOT COME IN!” He quickly backs away and runs outside as you hear the Quinjet landing. Bucky and you stay frozen for a minute as you hear him take off outside.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “He doesn't even know what's coming to him, now. And don't worry, doll. Tony Stark's not going to get a free nude from either of us.” You give him a soft kiss as you both stand up to get ready for the ride home. “I can think of a few ways to get him back, Bucky. You?”

“Of course, doll. Let's discuss this in your room when we get back?”

“Can I use the whiteboard?”

He laughs as you pull on your clothing. “Yes. You could even make a PowerPoint if you want, baby.”

“Thanks, Bucky. At least he didn’t get an embarrassing picture of us in muumuus….right?”

Bucky's eye roll that day was legendary.

Thanks so much for reading!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #winter solider x reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes #reader insert #smut #dirty talk #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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emrikae · 3 months ago

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aot cast modern au jobs in my head:

eren: cybersecurity specialist. i feel like erens one of those kids that suck in subjects like lang-lit or fucking geography but have an impressive talent in anything techi. i think growing up eren was a competitive gamer and i imagine him being pretty rich in the sense where doctor daddy grisha and also big bro zeke are always spoiling his brat ass with the latest technology. he gets so good, he initially goes into uni wanting to become a game designer but after a brief fallout with his dad when he dropped out and eventually had his allowance cut (a period where i think eren dips into underground hacking and also modelling?) he falls upon the sexy salary in cybersecurity (and saw how thrilling- and damn easy !for him! - the job is) he changed course. i think eren eventually builds his own successful company and becomes one of those rich folks who say that school aint shit.

mikasa: president of a major sports team. mikasa takes over pretty young (like early 30s) after old uncle kenny was involved in some ‘reiss scandal’. initially mikasa was labelled ‘princess’ (derogatory) by dumb angry hooligans who thought a woman would curse their current standing, jokes on them cus that same season the club broke their 20 year curse by reaching the championships. i also think old pictures of gothkasa gets leaked on the internet but it only brought her more praise. but i actually dont think mikasa stays in this job for very long, shes always wanted a quiet simple form of income anyway so when her baby brother comes of right age and maturity she passes the baton to him and lays back as just a shareholder before shes even 40. i also believe mikasa in another universe wouldve loved to be an archivist.

armin: celebrity marine biologist/activist that went viral online during lockdown. he gets his own fanbase and is termed ‘biologist bae’ cus of his cute looks. a tv producer who fell into his corner pretty much fell in love with him after seeing armin deliver a spiel about endangered dugongs. invites him to a bunch of talk shows and the viewership goes so high (a large portion of it being teenage fangirls who want to ‘save the ocean’ too!) he manages to score his own show where he eventually meets his future wife.

annie: senior tv writer who got with armin after working with him on his show. she usually works on sporty reality shows and competitions even though shes a big time introvert. known for her sharp dont fuck with me work ethic, annie gags at how easily she fell into ‘biologist baes’ charm, hates how shes just like the 14 year old fangirls who try to sneak into their shoots. but anyways, annies the ace at her job been going hard for about 15 years but ultimately decides to retire early after having her second child and really liking how ‘biologist bae’ was making enough dough for the whole family.

sasha: influencer cus shes so pretty and fun. was a design major so all her vids have a ‘aesthetic’. now she prettily promotes lifestyle hacks for all the girlies. she also has a set of vids called “what my chef husband cooked for me today” . i think also further on she ends up being one of those moms who shoots vlogs and reviews with their kids.

jean: jeans a classy guy with artistic talents so i imagine him being a successful automotive designer for a luxurious car company. a mommas boy, he used his first fat pay-check to buy his mom a sleek ride thats a little too fast for someone her age. dudes insta page is what you’d expect from a posh car enthusiast with flashy posts of either him, his car, his mom or all 3.

connie: real estate party man. he really climbed his way up and becomes a man of many stories, friends with everyone and plenty of connections. the old hustle got him familiar with the best locations in the city, and now with his excellent salesmanship dude manages to sell at least 3 huge properties a week. i also feel like connies one of those dudes to finally settle down in his 40s -50s (with someone half his age).

historia: i believe queenbee was made for wedding planning. she has her own company before her first job ever but damn is she good at it. being brought up filthy rich, historia is familiar with the highest quality of things, knows whats on the market that only the small percentage of rich people know and will get clients their dream wedding to a t. moreover, she also loves to play cupid (canon!) and is always up to planning her friends weddings (and baby showers, and birthdays parties, and…)

ymir: i imagine ymir being on the board of directors for a bunch of ngos. she had a tough upbringing, was probably moved around from one home to another and could see how hard life is for anyone working at minimum wage. she grew up to be a little spitfire in school, hadnt taken it seriously until she reached senior year and bonded with a school staff named Ms Ymir Fritz. With the wisdom and kindness she learnt from her old teacher, ymir wanted to pay it forward and decided to make a living helping those in need.

reiner: idk why, but i feel like reiners a softie at heart and i imagine him having a nice cozy candy shop. probably fighting old childhood demons and the parental neglect he faced, his cute little shop comes as part of his healing journey to compensate what he missed out on in his youth. its sweet (but a little heartbreaking) that reiners favourite part about his job is getting to witness and be a part of the joy that emerges between families when they enter his shop.

bertholdt: a nurse just cus i think bertholdt would know how to be gentle with the patients. hes got a soft way of speaking that makes vulnerable people feel safe and comfortable. hes also wildly knowledgeable in flexibility and keeping your muscles in good shape that he conducts morning stretches and sometimes yoga in one of their recreational halls.

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bearforcecaptions · 2 months ago

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Hey, what are you doing?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me with a raised brow. Caught off guard, I lowered my phone for a second, my heart racing as I saw his tall, athletic frame and youthful face bathed in the early afternoon light. He looked every bit the young adult Turkish jock he was: probably mid-twenties, sharp jawline, thick dark hair, and muscles that showed his commitment to the gym.

I had seen him a few times around the campus, always with a group of friends, his confidence radiating like an aura. I knew someone like him—young, athletic, effortlessly charming—would never look my way. Not for someone like me, a lonely 47-year-old guy who had long ago given up on the thought of finding love. But today was different. Today, I had something that could make things… possible.

Trying to calm my nerves, I quickly raised my phone back up, aiming it at him. "Oh, just testing out the camera," I lied with a faint smile. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he shrugged and turned away, seemingly dismissing me.

I tapped a hidden icon on my screen, activating the reality-altering feature I’d only dreamed could work. Instantly, time around us froze. The birds in mid-flight hung suspended in the air, leaves ceased rustling in the wind, and the chatter of distant students became silent. Everything stopped… except for me. I took a deep breath, gazing at him, knowing I was about to change everything.

The transformation began slowly at first, subtle adjustments to his frame. His arms thickened, filling out even more as his biceps and forearms gained an undeniable bulk. His chest broadened, the thin fabric of his shirt stretching as his torso became more powerful, more solid. His lean, youthful athleticism morphed into a sturdier, burlier build that spoke of strength and experience.

His jawline softened slightly, no longer as razor-sharp, but more defined with a thick, gray-flecked stubble. I watched, mesmerized, as his facial hair grew in patches until it formed a full beard, the dark strands laced with silvery gray. His once-youthful features matured as fine lines settled around his eyes and mouth, the kind that hinted at years well-lived, at a man who had seen and done much more than the boy he once was.

The changes continued. His hairline receded slightly, leaving him with a close-cropped style that suited his new look—clean, mature, and undeniably attractive. I could feel my heart pounding, realizing how he was becoming not just older but more familiar. Like someone I’d known for years, someone whose presence was as natural as my own.

As I watched, his outfit began to change as well. The casual, trendy clothes he’d been wearing morphed, the fabric shifting and melding until it transformed into a striking red and yellow Galatasaray jersey, representing his favorite Turkish team. The jersey hugged his thicker frame perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and powerful arms. His jeans adjusted to fit his heavier build, comfortably loose but snug where it counted.

Then, a series of intricate black tattoos slowly emerged on his arms, weaving their way up from his wrist and forearm. The designs were meaningful, symbols of his journey, his roots, his life with me. As if each line, each shape, was a story we shared, memories of moments we had never yet lived… but now would.

A heavy watch appeared on his wrist, sleek and bold, the kind of watch I had always imagined he’d wear. I held my breath as I watched a silver band form on his finger, a simple but powerful symbol of commitment, of love. I felt a chill on my own finger, and I glanced down to see an identical silver ring glinting on my hand. It was cold to the touch, yet somehow, it felt like it had always been there. We were bound, now and always.

Then, memories flooded my mind, filling me with images and experiences that I hadn’t lived but suddenly remembered. I saw us together in Istanbul, walking hand in hand along the Bosphorus. I remembered quiet nights watching television, his head resting against my shoulder, his laughter a deep rumble in my ear. I recalled heated debates over our favorite players, afternoons spent in the kitchen trying to perfect recipes, and lazy Sundays where we did nothing but enjoy each other’s presence. I remembered the feeling of his warm hand slipping into mine, the comfort of having him beside me, knowing he was there for me and I for him.

I took a shaky breath, struggling to process the whirlwind of memories, the life that had suddenly become ours.

Time resumed.

He stood there, posed by the railing, a relaxed smile on his face, waiting for me to take the photo. But this time, there was something different in his eyes. A warmth, a familiarity. He wasn’t just some young stranger anymore; he was my husband. He was my partner.

I raised the camera, capturing his steady, confident pose, and as I lowered the phone, he walked up to me, casually draping an arm around my shoulders. “You always make me look so serious in these pictures,” he chuckled, his voice warm and familiar. “Let me see it?”

I showed him the photo, and he nodded approvingly, giving me a wink. “Good one. Now come here,” he said, leaning in to give me a quick kiss. It was brief, casual, but filled with affection, the kind of kiss shared between people who had spent years together, who knew each other inside and out.

And as we stood there, in the middle of the park, the world around us buzzing back to life, I realized that I no longer felt alone. We were together, a publicly out couple, as natural as the sunlight on our faces, as real as the silver rings on our fingers.

#male transformation #theme: age progression

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s4svnn · 2 days ago

Text

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Thirty Nine

Monday:

Sitting in one of the back booths of the café, I stretched out my legs beneath the table, enjoying the small reprieve my break offered. The soft hum of conversations blended with the gentle whir of the coffee machines, creating a familiar background noise that I had grown used to over time. My caramel frappuccino sat in front of me, half-melted but still sweet and comforting as I absentmindedly swirled my straw through the icy liquid.

My eyes flicked over my phone screen, scrolling through the latest news without much thought—until something caught my attention, making me pause.

"Jungkook Jeon: Three Consecutive F1 Races Missed—Is His Dedication to the Sport in Question?"

I frowned slightly, my finger hesitating before tapping on the article. As my eyes skimmed through the text, the weight of the words slowly settled over me. The media had begun speculating about his absence, questioning whether he still had a future in Formula 1. Some reporters suggested that his sponsors were getting restless, while others debated if his team was intentionally keeping information under wraps. Regardless of the reasoning, one thing was clear—he had been noticeably absent from the last three races, and people were starting to wonder why.

I stared at my phone, my mind struggling to make sense of the information. Three races?

That wasn’t a coincidence. Jungkook never missed races, not unless there was a damn good reason. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder… did he really skip all of those because of me?

But almost as soon as the thought entered my mind, I shook it away. No. That’s not the Jungkook I know. He wouldn’t jeopardize his career over something like this. He probably has his own reasons.

I forced myself to push the idea aside, exhaling softly before switching to my messages. I replied to a text from my mom, letting her know I was doing fine, and then sent a quick response to Kayla, who had been spamming me with updates about some drama she had overheard at work.

So focused on my phone, I barely registered the subtle shift in the air around me, nor did I notice the presence of someone sliding into the booth directly across from me. It wasn’t until I heard a quiet throat-clearing that I finally looked up—only for my breath to momentarily hitch in surprise.

Jungkook.

But not the Jungkook I was used to.

The man sitting across from me looked… different. Gone was the usual all-black designer attire, the leather jackets and fitted shirts that screamed wealth and confidence. Instead, he was dressed in a simple beige hoodie, slightly oversized, paired with casual blue jeans. But the real shock was his hair. Normally, it was styled back with gel, sleek and polished, exposing the sharp angles of his face and the undercut beneath. But now, it was down, soft waves framing his features, giving him an almost boyish look. The change was subtle, yet completely disorienting.

For a long moment, I just stared at him, my mind struggling to reconcile this version of him with the one I had grown accustomed to. He looked… weirdly innocent.

Jungkook gave me a hesitant smile before letting out a small, shy "Hey."

I blinked, still processing the sight of him sitting here, looking nothing like the arrogant, untouchable racer I had come to resent.

When I didn’t immediately respond, he rubbed the back of his neck and let out a soft chuckle. "It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing me like this?"

I tilted my head slightly, crossing my arms as I studied him. "Good to know you’re self-aware."

That made him laugh—a real laugh, not the usual amused scoff or smug chuckle he often used. It was warm, genuine, and something about it sent a strange sensation through my chest.

"I thought I’d step out of the ‘F1 racer Jungkook’ persona and back into just… me for a bit," he admitted, his fingers toying with the rings on his hands.

"Uh-huh," I said, unimpressed. "Now, what do you want?"

At my bluntness, he hesitated for a brief second before inhaling deeply, clearly gathering his thoughts. He shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers continuing to fidget with the silver bands on his hand—a nervous habit I had never seen from him before.

"Damian told me you’d give me a chance to make it up to you," he said finally, his voice steady despite the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "So… I’m going to try my best. And, um…" He exhaled, finally meeting my gaze. "Thank you for hearing me out."

My eyebrows lifted slightly. Jungkook just said thank you?

I leaned back against the booth, regarding him carefully. "You have one week," I reminded him. "I’m not giving you any more than that, so make it count."

A small, determined smile tugged at his lips. "I will. I swear."

I sighed, glancing down at my phone to check the time. "Do you want anything to drink?"

Jungkook shook his head. "Actually, there’s somewhere I wanted to take you—if you’re up for it."

Before I could even consider my answer, a voice chimed in from behind me.

"She’s free. We got her shift covered."

I turned in my seat just in time to see Cyrus, Leah, and Serena standing a few feet away, their expressions smug and knowing.

"What—guys, no," I protested immediately, shaking my head. "I have work, I—"

"AJ," Leah cut in, lowering her voice to a whisper as she leaned in slightly, "do not leave the hot F1 racer waiting."

"Seriously," Serena added, smirking. "Go before we change our minds."

Before I could argue, all three of them stepped forward and, without warning, pushed me out of the booth—directly into Jungkook. I let out a startled oof as I stumbled into him, my hands instinctively reaching out to steady myself. Jungkook reacted quickly, his hands coming up to grip my waist, holding me firmly in place.

For a brief moment, neither of us moved.

I was suddenly, painfully aware of how close we were. The warmth of his hands through the fabric of my shirt, the steady rise and fall of his chest just inches from mine, the way his dark eyes flickered with something unreadable as he looked down at me. Behind me, my so-called friends were watching with delighted grins, waving me off like I was being shipped off to a rom-com moment I did not sign up for. Realizing Jungkook was still holding onto me, I cleared my throat and quickly stepped back, putting space between us.

"Lead the way," I mumbled, my voice coming out slightly more flustered than I would have liked.

Jungkook’s lips twitched slightly, as if he was fighting back a smirk, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned, leading the way toward the exit.

The crisp evening air brushed against my skin as Jungkook led the way through the parking lot, his hands stuffed into the front pocket of his beige hoodie. His pace was unhurried, casual, like he had all the time in the world, while I trailed slightly behind, my mind still trying to process how exactly I ended up here. I hadn’t planned on spending time with Jungkook—certainly not outside of work—and yet, here I was, following him without protest.

Parked effortlessly under the streetlights was a sleek, black Bugatti Chiron, its polished exterior gleaming under the glow. Even though I knew he had money, I still couldn’t help but blink at the sheer extravagance of it. This car wasn’t just expensive—it was a statement, a declaration of status and power. Of course, he’d drive something like this.

Without a word, Jungkook stepped ahead and pulled open the passenger-side door, holding it open for me. I hesitated for a brief moment before finally sliding into the seat, sinking into the plush leather interior. The inside of the car was pristine, the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air, mixing with the subtle scent of new leather.

I barely had a second to settle before Jungkook leaned in slightly, reaching across me to adjust the seatbelt where it rested against my shoulder. His hand brushed against my arm—just for a second—but it was enough to send an involuntary shiver through me.

"You good?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my heart stuttered. "Yeah."

He studied me for a second longer, as if making sure I wasn’t lying, before stepping back and shutting the door. A moment later, he slid into the driver’s seat, and with a press of a button, the engine roared to life, filling the air with a deep, thunderous growl. I glanced at him as he shifted gears, his fingers effortlessly gripping the wheel, his expression unreadable. Even dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, there was still something so composed about him—so effortlessly put together.

The car eased onto the road, gliding smoothly through the city streets. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the soft melody playing from the speakers—low, slow, and melodic, completely different from the aggressive bass-heavy music I’d expected him to play.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt charged, like there were a hundred unspoken words sitting between us, waiting for one of us to break.

I shifted slightly in my seat, letting my gaze flicker down to his hands as they moved over the steering wheel—steady, controlled, and veined in a way that was hard to ignore. The silver rings on his fingers caught the light every time he shifted gears, the sight oddly mesmerizing.

I quickly looked away, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past us.

The drive stretched on in silence, the soft hum of music playing in the background as the city lights faded behind us. I watched as the buildings thinned out, replaced by open roads and scattered streetlights. The air grew cooler, the scent of saltwater slowly creeping into the car, mixing with Jungkook’s cologne.

After a few more minutes, he finally pulled the car to a smooth stop. I frowned, glancing out the window. My eyes widened slightly as I took in the view before me—a long stretch of sand, the waves rolling gently under the moonlight.

A beach. I turned to him, my brows furrowed in confusion. "You brought me to a beach?"

Jungkook nodded, his hands resting on the steering wheel as he glanced at me. "Yeah, uh… I thought the best way to go about this was by explaining a bit about me and my life before—well, everything."

I studied him for a moment, my curiosity piqued. "Okay… but is this place abandoned or something? How is it just us here?"

He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s not abandoned…I rented it out for a bit."

I blinked.

"You what?"

Jungkook ignored my outburst, smoothly unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car like he hadn’t just casually admitted to renting out an entire beach. I let out a sharp exhale, kissing my teeth in disbelief before hurriedly following.

The second I stepped out, the cool ocean breeze kissed my skin, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the air. The whole place felt… untouched. Peaceful. And it really was just us—the parking lot was empty, the usual sounds of laughter and chatter that came with public beaches were nowhere to be heard.

I trailed after him as he started walking down the wooden path leading toward the sand, my arms crossed over my chest. "Did you really have to rent out an entire beach?" I asked, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all.

Jungkook glanced over at me, his expression unusually serious. "Yeah. You’ll see why in a bit."

Something in his tone made me pause. He wasn’t joking, wasn’t just being dramatic or showing off. Whatever he was about to tell me—whatever this was—it actually meant something to him. I pressed my lips together before nodding, my heart beating just a little faster than before as I contemplated what it could be.

When we finally reached the sand, Jungkook hesitated for a second before bending down, slipping off his sneakers and socks. Without a word, he stepped forward, letting the tide lap at his feet. He stared out at the ocean, hands still in his pockets, shoulders tense.

I watched him for a moment before sighing and doing the same, shoving off my shoes and stepping forward. The water was cold against my skin, but refreshing. "So," I started, wrapping my arms around myself, "are you going to explain why we’re here, or are we just going to stare at the waves all night?"

Jungkook let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You’re impatient."

I shrugged. "I just don’t like being kept in the dark."

He was silent for a second before exhaling, tilting his head up to the sky. "I used to come here a lot when I was younger," he finally admitted. "Before racing, before the cameras, before everything got so… complicated. This place was kind of my escape."

I frowned slightly, turning to fully face him. "Wait— you used to live here and what do you mean escape, escape from what?"

Jungkook hesitated, his jaw tightening before he finally met my gaze. "Yeah I only moved to Canada after I was recruited as a racer, and as for what I was escaping from, I was escaping from my dad. The pressure. And everything people expected me to be."

I stared at him, my lips parting slightly. Jungkook never talked about his family—at least not in any way that gave actual insight into his life. He was always the mystery, the untouchable golden boy with a million-dollar smile and an even more expensive lifestyle. But now, standing here under the moonlight, barefoot in the sand, he looked… human.

I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. "I never really thought about what it must’ve been like for you growing up," I admitted. "People only ever see the fame and success. They don’t think about what comes before all of that."

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, kicking at the sand with his toes. "Yeah. They see the cars, the trophies, the interviews. No one ever asks about what it took to get there." His voice was quieter now, almost lost to the sound of the waves. "My dad—he wasn’t the kind of guy to accept failure. If I wasn’t winning, I wasn’t enough. And for a long time, I let that define me."

I felt something twist in my chest at his words. I knew what it was like to feel like you were never enough, to have someone else’s expectations weigh on you so heavily that it felt impossible to breathe. But I never thought Jungkook—the Jungkook—could feel that way too.

I took a deep breath. "And now? Do you still feel like that?"

Jungkook was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke. "I don’t know." He turned to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine. "Maybe that’s why I’m here."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated again, and for the first time, I saw something in his expression that I didn’t expect—fear. "I missed those races for a reason Aylah," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And it wasn’t just because of you."

I blinked. "Then why?"

Jungkook ran a hand through his messy hair, exhaling sharply. "Because for the first time in my life, I don’t know if I want to race anymore."

His words hit me like a truck. I stared at him, my brain struggling to process what he just said. "You don’t—" I cut myself off, shaking my head in disbelief. "I thought you loved racing. It’s literally your life."

"Yeah," he said, voice laced with something unreadable. "Maybe that’s the problem."

I didn’t know what to say to that. The Jungkook I knew—the one the world knew—was built for this. He was fast, confident, unstoppable. The idea of him not wanting it anymore didn’t make sense. But looking at him now, the exhaustion in his eyes, the vulnerability in his expression… maybe it did.

"Why are you telling me this?" I finally asked.

Jungkook let out a breath, his gaze locked onto mine. "Because I don’t think there’s anyone else who would understand."

I could feel the weight of Jungkook’s presence beside me, like he was carrying something heavy, something I couldn’t fully grasp but could feel in the way he held himself. His eyes were distant, looking out at the water, but I could tell he was caught in his thoughts—caught in memories.

"I know about how things were with your mum," he said quietly, his voice steady but heavy, like the words were coated in something hard to shake off. "How she never supported your dream and made you feel like it wasn’t possible."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "How do you…?" I began, but he cut me off with an unexpected tenderness.

"You used to talk about her in your sleep," he said softly. "I heard you sometimes. And I could feel how much it hurt."

I blinked, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice. How could he possibly understand the depths of those whispered memories that I’d buried deep inside? I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t find the words.

His gaze shifted toward the water again, his eyes clouded with something I couldn’t read. "I know how much you wanted her approval," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid the sea would swallow his words. "And I get it. I know what it’s like to have someone you love not believe in you."

My chest tightened, but I didn’t know if it was because of his words or because they made me feel understood in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "How do you—?"

He turned his head slightly, his eyes darkened by a deep, hidden pain. "My dad," he said, his words slow and heavy, as if each one took everything from him. "My dad never supported me. All he ever wanted was for me to follow his path and become the son he could brag about, the son that was actually worth something. But my mum, God she was…so different."

I could hear the reverence in his voice when he spoke of her. The raw love that was still there, even after all this time. "What do you mean, 'was'?" I asked quietly, my heart aching as I fought the knot in my throat.

His eyes seemed to shutter, but the pain was still there, raw and bleeding. "She died when I was twelve," he whispered, as if the admission itself was a burden. "She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t live with him, with the way he controlled everything. So she ended her life right here… on this beach." His voice cracked with emotion, and for the first time, I saw him as more than just the confident, arrogant racer. I saw him as a boy who had lost everything.

I was stunned, paralyzed by the weight of his words. "Jungkook…" I whispered, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to offer comfort for something so devastating. But he wasn’t finished.

He inhaled shakily, his shoulders trembling slightly as he fought back the tide of memories. "She drowned herself in the water here," he continued, voice thick with emotion. "And for years, I couldn’t come back. Every time I looked at this place, it felt like my past was strangling me, reminding me that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, I couldn’t outrun it."

I felt my heart crack at his words. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but I was frozen. My chest ached for him. The ocean felt cold beneath my feet as I realized how long he had carried that pain. Alone.

"But now… I think I’ve finally found the strength to come back here, to face it," he said, his voice softer now, but filled with determination. "I’m ready to take my life back and make my own choices without letting my past control me. To finally move on… without it feeling like I’m trapped in my own mind."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. I stood there, silent, trying to absorb the weight of everything he’d just shared. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help him, but I knew one thing for sure—Jungkook wasn’t the person I had thought he was. He was more. So much more.

"I’m so sorry, Jungkook," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but I meant every word. "I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through."

He shook his head, his lips trembling into a faint smile. "Don’t be," he said, his voice raw but steady. He paused, turning to me with a look that held a vulnerability I had never seen in him before. "I want to learn how to live without letting everything that’s happened define me. I want to make the choices I want. Not just for me, but for you too. I want to be better for you."

His words hit me hard, a realization sweeping over me. He was trying, really trying to change. He wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was asking for a chance to rebuild himself. To start fresh. Not just for his sake, but for us.

"I…" My voice faltered as I swallowed, unsure of how to process everything.

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his jaw tightening as if he were forcing himself to stay in control. His eyes flickered with something deep, something raw, as he turned to me. "I'm sorry," he said, voice hoarse. "For everything I put you through. Every fucking thing I allowed to happen because of that bitch."

His words were filled with venom, but not towards me—towards himself.

I stiffened, my breath catching in my throat at the sheer emotion in his tone. "Jung—"

But he wasn’t done. His dark eyes locked onto mine, pleading, desperate. "I let you go that day because I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I pushed you away, you wouldn’t have to deal with the same hell she put me through. I thought I was setting you free."

A cold chill ran down my spine. My heartbeat stuttered as a horrible realization began to settle in my chest.

What the hell was he talking about?

My voice came out sharper than I intended. "What do you mean?" I demanded, stepping closer. "What did she do?"

His lips parted slightly, his entire body going rigid as if he was battling with himself. His throat bobbed, his breathing uneven. He looked at me like he wanted to say something—like he wanted to finally tell me everything.

But then he dropped his gaze.

"I’ll tell you another time," he whispered, barely loud enough to hear over the waves. His voice was laced with something heavy—regret, sorrow, fear. "But for now, I just need you to know how fucking sorry I am." His fists clenched at his sides, his entire frame tense. "I shouldn’t have let her put you through that shit. Not when I know what it feels like. Not when I know how much it can destroy a person."

His words hit me like a freight train.

"Jungkook…" I breathed, my voice breaking.

He shook his head, his jaw clenched as if he was barely holding himself together. "You don’t get it," he said, his voice cracking. "I knew what was happening. I saw it, I fucking felt it, and I still did nothing. I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve—"

"Look it’s not entirely your fault," I interrupted, stepping closer. "You didn’t have control over everything—"

"But I should have!" His voice was loud, filled with frustration—frustration with himself. His hands raked through his hair, tugging slightly as if trying to ground himself. "I should’ve done something. I should’ve stopped her before any of this happened. But I didn’t. I was too afraid."

I stared at him, feeling my chest tighten at the sheer anguish in his expression.

"I was afraid of losing everything," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper now. "Afraid of what she’d do, afraid of being the person my dad hated." He exhaled sharply, his fists trembling at his sides. "But now… I finally feel like I can change that. That I can take back control. And I promise you—I will."

There was something in his voice, something fierce and unwavering. He wasn’t just saying this to comfort me. He meant it.

I swallowed hard, my lips parting slightly, but no words came out.

Jungkook turned fully to face me then, his eyes locking onto mine with a depth that made my heart ache. "I promise," he continued, his voice softer now, "that I will make these next few days worth it. That I will show you just how much I love you."

The world around me seemed to stop.

I felt my breath hitch, my heart pounding so hard it was deafening. "Y-you…" My voice trembled. "You love me?"

Jungkook let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes darted away before meeting mine again. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice shy but sure. "I have for a while." He exhaled, his lips twitching into the smallest, most uncertain smile I’d ever seen on him. "So please… just let me try my best to make it up to you."

My entire body stilled.

This was Jungkook. The same Jungkook who had driven me insane, who had hurt me, who had made me feel like I was nothing. The same Jungkook who, despite all of that, had always felt like home.

And he loved me.

A part of me wanted to push him away, to guard myself from the possibility of being broken all over again. But another part—a quieter, more fragile part—wanted to believe him.

I hesitated, then slowly gave him a small nod.

Jungkook exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly, as if some of the weight he’d been carrying had lifted.

We didn’t say anything after that. Instead, we both turned to face the ocean again, letting the sound of the waves consume us. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was full of unspoken words, of understanding, of a past that had nearly destroyed us both but hadn’t.

The wind blew strands of my hair into my face, but I didn’t bother fixing it. I was too lost in thought, too consumed by the weight of everything that had just happened.

Jungkook loved me.

And somehow, despite everything…I didn’t know whether to run from it or run to it.

Tuesday:

The soft buzzing of my phone dragged me out of sleep, the vibration humming against my nightstand. Groggily, I reached out, my fingers fumbling for the device as I blinked away the haze of sleep. As I turned my phone over, my brows furrowed slightly at the name lighting up my screen.

Jungkook: Morning, I know it’s early, but I have something planned if you’re up for it.

I stared at the message for a moment, still half-asleep and trying to process the fact that Jungkook was actually texting me. That yesterday had actually happened. That he had confided in me about his childhood and admitted he was in love with me.

A part of me had expected him to back out of this whole “making it up to me” thing. That maybe, after last night, he’d realize that this wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it. But here he was, first thing in the morning, still trying. I hesitated for a moment before finally typing back.

Me: Morning. What exactly do you have planned?

His response was almost instant.

Jungkook: That’s for me to know and for you to find out. Just be ready in an hour. I’ll pick you up.

I rolled my eyes but felt a small, involuntary smile tug at my lips.

Me: Fine. But if this is some elaborate scheme to throw me into a lake or something, just know Kayla will hunt you down.

Jungkook: Noted. See you soon.

With a sigh, I tossed my phone onto the bed and stretched, running a hand through my tangled hair. I swallowed, pushing the thoughts aside. I had agreed to give him a chance and maybe just maybe he deserved it.

I stood outside Kayla’s house, arms crossed over my chest, waiting for Jungkook to show up. The morning air was crisp, the kind that carried the lingering chill of the night before but promised warmth as the sun climbed higher. I had dressed casually—light-washed jeans, a cropped white t-shirt, and my favorite sneakers—choosing comfort over style since I had no idea what he had planned.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a simple text from him.

Jungkook: I’m here.

Right on cue, the deep hum of an engine broke the quiet street, and I turned to see a sleek black Audi R8 pulling up. My brows lifted slightly. No flashy Bugatti today? The window rolled down, revealing Jungkook in the driver’s seat. His dark hair was down and fluffy again, falling naturally over his forehead, but today he was back in his usual style—black fitted t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and silver rings on his fingers.

He rested his arm on the window frame, scanning me with those sharp eyes before a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he said smoothly. “You look nice.”

I raised a brow. “If this is your way of buttering me up, it’s not going to work.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It was worth a try. Now, get in.”

I hesitated, studying him for a moment before sighing and walking around to the passenger side. The second I slipped into the seat and shut the door, his cologne hit me—a mix of warm spice and something undeniably Jungkook.

As he pulled onto the road, I glanced at him. “So, are you actually going to tell me where we’re going, or am I just supposed to blindly trust you?”

Jungkook smirked, fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel. “Trust is a strong word.”

I scoffed. “Exactly my point.”

He let out a soft laugh but didn’t answer my question. Instead, he reached for the volume dial, turning up the music playing softly through the speakers.

The ride was quiet after that, the only sound filling the car being the music and the faint hum of the engine. Every now and then, I found myself sneaking glances at him—at the way his hand gripped the steering wheel, veins prominent as his fingers flexed and moved, at how his jaw tensed slightly whenever he focused on the road.

It felt… different. Like we were two people simply going on a drive. No history weighing us down. No past mistakes lingering between us. After nearly an hour of driving, the scenery around us began to shift. I frowned slightly, recognizing some of the winding roads.

"Wait a second," I murmured, sitting up straighter as I glanced out the window. "Are we going to—?"

Jungkook just smiled but didn’t say anything.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled onto a long stretch of road, leading to what looked like an old racetrack. It wasn’t grand or modern—no massive stands, no flashing billboards. It was smaller, more intimate, surrounded by trees, with faded tire marks scarring the asphalt.

The kind of place that held more history than most people would ever know.

Jungkook parked near the entrance, cutting the engine. He didn’t say anything right away, just stared out at the track with a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he exhaled. “This is the first track I ever visited.”

I turned to him in surprise. “Seriously?”

He nodded, gripping the steering wheel loosely. “Yeah. My mom used to bring me here when I was little.”

I blinked. “Your mom?”

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the track. “Most people assume my dad was the one who got me into racing. But it was my mom. She was the one who taught me about cars, who told me stories about racers and how they dedicated their lives to the sport. She used to sneak me out here when my dad wasn’t home, just so I could watch the local drivers practice.”

I stared at him, my heart twisting in my chest. “I had no idea.”

He let out a soft chuckle, but it was hollow. “To be fair no one does.”

I glanced out at the track, imagining a younger Jungkook standing here, wide-eyed and excited as his mom explained the mechanics of the cars speeding by. It was a side of him I’d never seen before—one that made him feel more human, more real.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked quietly.

Jungkook turned to me, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen it. “Because… this place was basically home to me and my mum.” He exhaled slowly. “So I wanted to share that with you.”

I swallowed, my throat tightening. He wasn’t just trying to win me over or put on a show. He was letting me in.

A breeze swept through the open track, rustling my hair as I stepped out of the car. The air smelled of asphalt and nostalgia, like years of burnt rubber and faded dreams still clung to the ground. Jungkook stood a few steps ahead, hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, his gaze fixed on the empty track in front of us.

I wasn’t sure what to say, or even if I should say anything. There was something fragile about the way he was looking at this place, as if the moment I opened my mouth, I’d shatter whatever memory was playing in his mind.

“You know… I still remember the first time she brought me here,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of something deeply buried. “I was six. Too young to even understand what Formula 1 was, but old enough to know that I loved the way the cars sounded.”

I tilted my head, watching as his lips curled into a soft, almost wistful smile.

“She used to lift me onto her shoulders so I could see over the fence,” he continued. “I remember gripping onto her hair and just… staring in awe at the drivers as they zoomed past.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “She used to say that cars had souls, that if you listened closely enough, you could hear them speak to you.”

I found myself smiling at the thought. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” His smile faltered slightly, but he didn’t let the sadness fully take over.

I shifted on my feet, suddenly understanding why he had brought me here. This wasn’t just any racetrack. This was where his love for racing started. Where, for at least a little while, his life had belonged to him and not to the expectations that had been forced onto him.

I took a slow breath, stepping up beside him. “What was she like?”

Jungkook turned to me, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into something warmer. “She was stubborn. Like, really stubborn.” He chuckled. “But she was also the kindest person I’ve ever met. She had this way of making everyone feel like they mattered. Like they were worth something.”

His expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. “That’s why I never understood why she stayed with my dad for so long. She deserved better.”

I hesitated before asking, “Did she ever try to leave?”

He nodded slowly. “She did. A couple of times. But every time she tried, he found a way to pull her back in.” His jaw clenched. “He had this… way of making her feel like she couldn’t survive without him. And I think, in the end, she started to believe it.”

I could hear the anger in his voice, the frustration of a child who had watched his mother suffer but had been powerless to stop it.

Before I could say anything, he suddenly turned to me, eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine.

“That’s actually another reason why I let you go,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I froze.

“What?”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “That day…when I let you walk away from me—I did it because I thought I was protecting you.” He let out a hollow laugh. “I told myself that if I let you go, you wouldn’t end up like her. You wouldn’t end up trapped in something you couldn’t escape from.”

My throat tightened as I took in his words.

“But I was wrong,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “All I did was hurt you. And that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until I clenched them into fists.

His eyes burned with something raw, something vulnerable. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I fucked up in ways I can’t even begin to fix. But for what it’s worth, I swear to you—I never wanted to be the reason you were in pain.”

I felt my chest tighten, emotions clashing inside of me—anger, hurt, confusion, but most of all, an ache I didn’t know what to do with. Silence fell between us again, thick and heavy.

Then, after a long pause, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

His lips curled into a small smirk. “I figured since we’re here, I might as well teach you how to drive on a track.”

I blinked. “You what?”

Jungkook held out the keys, the amusement in his eyes making it clear that he wasn’t joking. “You told me once that you always wanted to try racing, but you never got the chance.” He shrugged. “So, I’m giving you that chance.”

I stared at the keys in his hand, my heart pounding.

This man was a walking contradiction. One moment, he was breaking my heart with confessions I wasn’t sure how to process. The next, he was standing there, challenging me to take a risk, to do something I had only ever dreamed of.

I exhaled sharply, snatching the keys from his hand. “Fine. But if I crash, you’re paying for damages.”

Jungkook laughed, the sound lighter than before. “Deal.”

Jungkook led me towards the pit area, where a sleek black car was waiting. The polished surface gleamed under the bright overhead lights, its presence almost intimidating. I trailed behind him, the keys he had just handed me feeling oddly heavy in my grip.

“You sure about this?” I asked, eyeing the car warily.

Jungkook turned to me with a smirk. “You scared?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “No. Just… cautious.”

He chuckled, leaning against the hood of the car. “Good. Caution keeps you alive. But hesitation?” He tapped his fingers against the metal. “That’s what stops people from ever getting started.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You sound like some motivational speaker.”

Jungkook laughed, pushing himself off the hood. “Maybe, but I’m serious. Trust yourself, you know cars better than anyone I’ve ever met, so driving one should come naturally.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing he wasn’t wrong. I had spent my whole life obsessed with cars—sketching designs, studying mechanics, dreaming of building something groundbreaking. But actually being behind the wheel of a race car? That was something else entirely.

Still, the challenge was too tempting to ignore.

With a deep breath, I walked around to the driver’s side and slid into the seat. The interior was all leather and high-tech controls, the kind of craftsmanship I’d only ever seen up close a handful of times.

Jungkook leaned down, resting his arms on the open window. “Comfortable?”

I glanced up at him, fingers grazing over the steering wheel. “As I’ll ever be.”

He grinned before stepping back. “Alright. Start it up.”

I took a steadying breath and turned the key. The engine roared to life, vibrating beneath me like a living thing. A rush of excitement shot through me, my fingers tightening instinctively around the wheel.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, his tone shifting into something more serious. “The track is all yours. No pressure, no expectations. Just go at your own pace.”

I exhaled slowly, shifting the car into gear. “Got it.”

The first few moments were cautious. I eased the car forward, letting myself get a feel for how it handled. The power beneath my hands was unlike anything I had ever experienced—smooth yet commanding, ready to surge forward at the slightest command.

As I hit the first turn, something clicked.

I wasn’t just driving. I was feeling the car, the way it moved, the way it responded to my touch. The caution I had held onto melted away, replaced with something I hadn’t expected—freedom.

Jungkook was right. I had spent years studying cars, memorizing every detail of their designs, their builds, their potential. But now, for the first time, I wasn’t just observing. I was experiencing it.

The speed. The control.

I pressed the accelerator, and the car surged forward, hugging the curves of the track as if it were an extension of me. The wind rushed past, my heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of the engine.

I was flying.

By the time I completed a full lap, my adrenaline was sky-high. I pulled back into the pit area, my hands shaking slightly as I shifted into neutral and shut off the engine.

Jungkook was waiting, arms crossed, a proud smirk on his lips. “Not bad for a first-timer.”

I let out a breathless laugh, my body still buzzing from the high. “Holy shit.”

He chuckled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. It really does.”

Jungkook tapped the roof of the car. “Told you.”

I climbed out, my legs slightly unsteady beneath me. Jungkook was watching me closely, his expression softer now. “You belonged out there,” he said, almost to himself. “I could see it.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

I looked down, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “Well, don’t get used to it. This was just a one-time thing.”

Jungkook tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You sure about that?”

I hesitated.

Was I?

Before I could answer, he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the stands. “Come on.”

“Jungkook—where are we going now?”

He didn’t answer, just led me up the steps until we reached one of the higher rows. From here, we had a perfect view of the entire track.

Jungkook sat down first, motioning for me to do the same. I hesitated before lowering myself beside him, the warmth of his body radiating next to mine.

For a while, we just sat there in silence, watching the track stretch out beneath the night sky.

Then, his voice broke the stillness.

“My mom used to bring me up here after a race.” His gaze was distant, lost in memory. “We’d sit together and just watch the cars go by. She’d always tell me that one day, I’d be down there—one of them.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “And she was right.”

I watched him carefully, the soft glow of the floodlights casting shadows across his face. “She’d be proud of you.”

His throat bobbed, but he didn’t look at me. “I’d hope so.”

I reached out, hesitating for only a second before gently placing my hand over his. His fingers twitched beneath mine, but he didn’t pull away.

“I know so,” I murmured.

Jungkook turned his palm upward, his fingers hesitantly lacing through mine. He held me there, grounding me, as if the moment would slip away if he let go.

“I haven’t brought anyone here before,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady.

I glanced at him, surprised. “Not even your team? Or…Jade?”

He shook his head. “No. This place isn’t just a track to me. It’s…more than that. It was where I felt closest to my mom and where I learned to dream.” He exhaled softly. “I never wanted to taint it with anything else.”

His words settled in my chest, heavier than I expected.

“Then why bring me here?” I asked carefully.

Jungkook turned his head fully, facing me now. His dark eyes were steady, holding something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

“Because you remind me of her.”

A lump formed in my throat.

I should have looked away, should have let go of his hand before things went too far. But I didn’t. Because despite everything—despite the past, despite the walls I had built between us—his words made something deep inside me crack.

I wanted to fight it. But at the same time, I wanted to believe him.

“I—”

Before I could say anything, Jungkook suddenly stood, pulling me up with him. “There’s one last thing I want to show you.”

I let him lead me down the stairs and back toward the pit area. The air was crisp against my skin, but Jungkook’s hand in mine was warm, steady.

When we reached the track, I saw another car waiting. But this time, it wasn’t a sleek racing machine. It was an older model, worn but well taken care of. Jungkook walked up to it, running his fingers along the hood with something close to reverence.

“This was my mom’s car,” he said softly.

I blinked in surprise. “Wait, this?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She used to drive me around in this all the time. It’s the first car I ever learned to work on.” He let out a small chuckle. “Probably the reason I fell in love with cars in the first place.”

I stepped closer, running my hand along the smooth surface. It wasn’t flashy like the cars Jungkook usually drove. But there was something about it—something sentimental, something real.

“She really taught you everything, didn’t she?” I murmured.

Jungkook smiled, but there was a sadness in it. “Yeah. Everything that mattered.”

I looked up at him, my heart aching for the boy he used to be. The boy who lost his mother too soon. The boy who had to grow up under a father who never truly saw him.

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you for bringing me here,” I said sincerely.

His gaze softened. “Thank you for coming.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us.

Then, Jungkook cleared his throat, stepping back. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. You up for another drive?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to drive this?”

He grinned. “It’s a piece of history. It deserves to be driven.”

I hesitated, then smirked. “Fine. I’ll do it in honour of your mum.”

“She’d love that.” he said, a distant smile playing on his lips.

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coquexari · 3 months ago

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Is it alright if you talk/ramble about your god designs?? :3 I’d love to learn about your thought process about them!!! :D

HI, YES, WILL DO :D!!! Okay, so, fun little thing, athena wont be here because I WILL be redesigning her, but not too much, just to basically match with Zeus a little more [favorite child moment.] For the most part, I basically try to put the branches that stem from the concepts of what they're a god of, like god of thunder and god of the seas, with both Zeus and Poseidon having elements of their environment. With Zeus' cloud hair and fluff, and his thunder like marbling on his skin, and Poseidon's water arms and fish features [the fins and black scales] Zeus' design wasnt as simple to think about as I thought, for the most part I kind of just dont put that much thought into it and think about it AS I go, I try to implement the leaves in other ways like his horns, and the MAIN thought in designing zeus is how much of a drama queen that he was that he'd want to make himself look more different than everyone else, my thoughts are pretty scrambled because i don't exactly know how to explain my thoughts in a linear pattern so im sorry if it cant be understood, basically just had idea after idea WHILE i was making him, his hair basically turns into his tail in the same design that Hermes has, just fluffier, AND his chest is charred/marbled with lightning coming from the center because power is where his heart lies. I wanted him to EMBODY, cockiness, king of gods energy, while also thinking it'd be funny that other than aphrodite he's the one with the most skin shown..just because. Poseidon's design was in similar existence with Zeus, but where Zeus was as big and puffy as his clouds, I wanted poseidon to be as sleek as water, his hair had to be waves that melded into the seas whenever he was in his element, and when he wasnt, his hair would flow to the floor giving the look you usually see in water breathing from demon slayer [image below] His hair flows in the same sense, while keeping its form for the most part.

Hermes! well, he kinda just came to me while I was doodling him, ngl I had to pull out google to figure out what hermes looked like the first time to get more than one idea, and decided that it'd be fun to make him more of a mysterious trickster of a mailman that is alot more threatening than he's let on, giving him a more 'biblically accurate angel' look with all the eyes came from the idea of him being a messenger and being able to go anywhere as quickly as he does, you'd never really know when he was or wasn't watching. I thought I'd just implement that more into his design, ALSO incorporate some spirity ghostly things mostly on his cape, just to make his role of guiding souls a bit more shown :3 APHRODITEEE Was simple, but a really fun thought, as the goddess of beauty and allat I wanted her to basically be as customizable as possible, marbling vitiligo with white hair, a canvas capable of change. She's able to mold herself as whoever you want her to be, and whoever she wants herself to be, but her main look is a dull pink with marbling vitiligo and hair so white you'd get blinded looking at her, I also added a bit to the dove look with her hair, making it look and flow like feathers whenever she moves.

Basically, again, all of my ideas usually stem from the concepts and branches of their titles, and my want to just make them all silly and pretty, i havent designed others yet but I hope this answers it! :D!

#coque!asks #epic musical #epic aphrodite #epic zeus #epic poseidon #epic hermes #epic the musical

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thealternateuniverse · 7 days ago

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Hairstyle

Got7 x reader A/N: I am so obsessed with Yugyeom's AOMG era. He burned those damn skinny jeans the moment he left JYP. If there's a song for this fanfiction- it would be Hey daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher. (Someone please get Yugyeom a girlfriend 😫) Word count: 2485 Warnings: None just some fluff ______ You turned off your phone with a pout, still frustrated that Yugyeom hadn’t responded to your texts. You checked the time zone—2 AM in Germany, and here you were in Japan, wide awake. Your family had decided to spend the holidays here with Jackson’s family, while the brothers, Mark and Yugyeom, were off vacationing in Germany.

"Stop checking your phone," Jackson teased, sneaking up behind you. "You two were just FaceTiming earlier."

"I can’t help it!" you huffed, crossing your arms. "I miss him already."

Jackson chuckled, draping an arm over your shoulders and shaking his head. "Why don’t we go shopping? We can pick up something for them. It’ll take your mind off him until he wakes up, wherever he is."

It actually sounded like a good idea. Plus, you still hadn’t figured out what to get Yugyeom for the holidays. With a nod, you followed Jackson out for a shopping spree.

The streets of Tokyo were alive with dazzling lights and festive decorations. Christmas in Japan had a different kind of magic—bright illuminations, couples walking hand in hand, and stores filled with limited-edition holiday merchandise. You tugged your coat tighter around you, still feeling the winter chill despite the warmth of the city.

Jackson dragged you into a luxury store first, insisting that Yugyeom needed something stylish.

"Look at this," he said, holding up a designer jacket. "This would look amazing on him."

You tilted your head, picturing Yugyeom in it. "Hmm… it does suit him."

"Of course, I have taste," Jackson grinned. "Unlike you, who was about to buy him—what? A stuffed animal?"

You swatted his arm. "He likes cute things! And he would actually keep it."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "You are so whipped."

"Whatever," you muttered, moving to another section of the store.

Eventually, you settled on a sleek silver ring that you knew would look good on his fingers. Simple but meaningful. It felt like the perfect gift.

Just as you were about to pay, your phone buzzed.

Kyum 💙: You awake? Kyum 💙: I miss you.

You couldn’t stop the huge grin that spread across your face.

Jackson groaned. "Oh my god, you’re smiling like an idiot. You’re literally hopeless."

"Shut up," you said, quickly typing back.

You: Go back to sleep, it's 3 AM there! Kyum 💙: Not until you tell me you love me.

Your heart skipped a beat. Damn him.

Jackson peeked over your shoulder. "Oh my god, are you guys that cheesy? Get a room—wait, no, get another country."

You ignored him, chuckling as you typed back.

You: Fine, I love you. Now sleep.

A reply came almost instantly.

Kyum 💙: I love you more. Also, buy me something cute.

You giggled. Jackson groaned dramatically. "I swear, this is worse than a K-drama."

But you didn’t care. Because no matter how far apart you were, Yugyeom always had a way of making you feel like he was right there with you.

"Seriously, what the heck? It looks like we bought out an entire store!" Jackson groaned, struggling to carry all the bags filled with the items you’d picked out. You hadn’t even really thought about it, you just grabbed anything that reminded you of your boyfriend. Damn, you missed him so much. ------------------- Thanksgiving had come and gone, and you were already back home, but Yugyeom was still in Germany. He’d be there for another two days, and the separation anxiety was killing you. FaceTiming wasn’t enough, either you’d fall asleep first, or he would. It was so frustrating. All you wanted was to cuddle him.

Your phone buzzed, nearly slipping from your hand as you eagerly checked, hoping it was Yugyeom. To your disappointment, it was Bambam. You weren’t even back at your dorm yet, and he was already asking to meet up.

Bam: Where are you? You: At home. Why? Bam: Too bad! Can we meet up around the area? The YSL bag I’m about to give you can’t wait.

Your eyes widened at the mention of a YSL bag.

You: You're lying. Prove it.

Bambam sent a photo almost immediately—a sleek black Saint Laurent bag sitting pretty in its box.

Bam: Doubt me again and I’ll give it to Lisa instead.

You rolled your eyes, but you were already reaching for your coat.

You: Fine. Where are you?

Bam: The café near your place. Hurry up, before I change my mind.

You huffed, grabbing your things and slipping on your shoes. The thought of seeing Bambam and securing a brand-new designer bag was enough to make you move fast.

As you made your way to the café, your phone buzzed again. This time, your heart skipped a beat.

Kyum 💙: Where are you going this late?

Damn. Did he have a sixth sense or something? You hadn’t even texted him yet.

You: Bam wants to meet up. He said he has something for me.

Kyum 💙: At this hour?

You bit your lip. Uh-oh. Someone was grumpy.

You: It’s fine! I’ll be quick.

No reply.

You sighed, pushing the door open to the café, only to be greeted by Bambam’s signature smirk.

"You look nervous," he teased.

You plopped down across from him. "Yugyeom is being weird."

Bambam laughed. "Ah, he’s jealous."

You frowned. "Of what?"

Bambam wiggled his eyebrows, pushing the bag toward you. "Of me, obviously."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. If Yugyeom was jealous, then maybe… just maybe… he was missing you a little extra tonight.

He handed you the YSL box containing the bag.

"Thanks, Bam!" you beamed.

Trust Bambam to be stylish—he could easily pass as a stylist someday.

Your eyes lit up as you began unboxing it. What the heck? This was absolutely gorgeous.

"Glad you like it! It took Yugye—" Huh?

You paused mid-unboxing and looked up at Bambam suspiciously.

"It took who?" You pressed.

Bambam’s eyes darted to the side, and he coughed into his fist. "Uh—what? No one. I mean, I just—um—found it and thought of you."

Your jaw dropped. "Bambam."

He sighed, slumping in his chair. "Okay, okay! It took Yugyeom forever to pick that bag for you, alright? He called me six times asking if you’d like black or beige, if the gold chain was too much, if the size was right—"

Your heart skipped a beat. "Wait… he picked this?"

"Yeah, duh." Bambam rolled his eyes. "Why do you think he was acting weird earlier? He probably wanted to give it to you himself."

You stared at the bag in your hands, warmth spreading through your chest. Yugyeom picked this. He was the one worrying over every little detail, making sure it was perfect for you.

Your phone buzzed again.

Kyum 💙: Are you home yet?

You bit your lip, trying to fight the stupid grin forming on your face.

Bambam groaned. "Ugh, you have that lovesick look. Just call him already!"

You laughed, clutching the bag closer. Maybe you would.

You still hadn’t replied to Yugyeom, too caught up in admiring the bag he’d picked for you. You couldn’t help the fluttering in your stomach, it was so thoughtful of him. Even as you got home, you couldn't stop smiling like an idiot.

Your jaw dropped, even the bag you are holding, when you entered your house.

Yugyeom was sitting on your couch. You almost did not recognize him because...... what the hell did he do to his hair?

Yugyeom was sitting on your couch.

Your heart stopped. "W-What the hell?! What are you doing here?!"

He grinned lazily, stretching his long legs out. "Surprise."

You blinked rapidly, trying to process his presence. "You're supposed to be in Germany!"

"Yeah, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly guilty. "I, uh, cut the trip short."

Your eyes widened. "Why?"

Yugyeom smirked, leaning forward. "Because someone was too busy staring at a bag to text me back."

Your mouth opened and closed, heat rushing to your cheeks. "I—I was just—"

"Just what?" He stood up, stepping closer. "Too distracted by the gift I picked for you?"

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing as he invaded your space. "Maybe."

His smirk softened, and he reached out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "Did you like it?"

You looked down at the bag, still stunned. "I love it."

Yugyeom hummed in satisfaction. "Good. Then I don't regret flying all the way here just to see you hold it."

Your breath hitched. "You flew back for me?"

He grinned, tilting his head. "Well… yeah. And maybe because I missed you like crazy."

Your heart was doing backflips at this point. "Idiot." You whispered, but you were already reaching up to pull him into a hug.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Yeah, yeah. But I'm your idiot." “And what the hell did you do to your hair?!” you blurted out, slightly pushing him to take in his whole new appearance. His once dark locks were now light brown, tousled messily as if he had just rolled out of bed. Yugyeom smirked, running a hand through his newly dyed hair. “You don’t like it?” “I—That’s not the point!” You threw your hands in the air. . “You’re supposed to be in Germany! And now you're here, looking like some K-drama second male lead who's about to break my heart.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Damn, is that what I look like? Should I go back to black?” You shook your head in disbelief, stepping closer. “No, it’s just… Why? And why do you look like this?”

You had to admit, his new look did something to you that you couldn’t quite explain. He looked... magical.

“Wanted a change. And… I missed you.”

Your breath hitched. “So you impulsively dyed your hair and hopped on a flight back?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

You stared at him, your emotions a chaotic mix of disbelief, fondness, and something dangerously close to love. “You’re insane.”

He smirked, tugging at your wrist, making you stumble forward slightly. “Maybe. But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. “Debatable.”

He laughed, pulling you close to him once again “Then I guess I’ll just have to make you admit it.”

You remember you have to give him what you bought from Japan also.

Your eyes widened as you suddenly remembered the shopping bags in your room. You quickly turn around making Yugyeom raise an eyebrow at your sudden movement.

"Wait, I got you something," you said, rushing over to grab them in your room, neatly wrapped package from your shopping spree in Japan.

Yugyeom smirked, watching you with amusement when you returned. "Oh? My girlfriend spoiling me now?"

"Shut up," you muttered, shoving the bag into his hands. "Just open it."

He chuckled but did as you said, tearing into the wrapping like an eager kid on Christmas morning. His eyes lit up when he pulled out the limited edition designer hoodie you had painstakingly picked for him.

"Shit," he muttered, running his fingers over the fabric. "This is sick. You really know my taste, huh?"

You shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant even though his reaction made your heart swell. "Well, you should look good if you're gonna keep making impulsive decisions like dyeing your hair brown."

He snorted. "You love it. Admit it."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Are you gonna try it on or not?"

Yugyeom smirked, standing up and pulling the hoodie over his head in one swift motion. It fit him perfectly, and damn, you had to admit he looked really good.

"So?" he asked, striking a playful pose.

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Yeah, yeah. It suits you."

He stepped closer, leaning down slightly. "That all?"

You huffed, looking away. "Fine. You look hot, okay?"

He grinned, his hands sliding around your waist. "Knew it."

You groaned. "I hate you."

"Liar," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You hesitated for a moment before reaching into the shopping bag again. Your fingers brushed against the small velvet box, and suddenly, you felt nervous. It wasn’t that serious, but still… buying a ring for someone felt kind of intimate.

Clearing your throat, you pulled out the box and handed it to Yugyeom. "I, uh… I also got you this."

He looked at the box, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "A ring?"

You nodded. "You always wear them, and I saw this one and thought it’d look good on you."

Yugyeom opened the box, and for a moment, he just stared. Inside was a sleek silver band, simple yet elegant, something that screamed him. His long fingers traced over the metal before he slipped it onto his ring finger, testing the fit.

"Damn," he muttered, holding up his hand to admire it. "You really know me too well."

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "If you don’t like it, you don’t have to—"

"Shut up," he interrupted, stepping closer. His fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you toward him. "I love it."

Your breath hitched when he lifted your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. His lips brushed your skin so softly that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Does this mean I gotta get you one too?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up your cheeks. "Just say thank you, idiot."

He grinned, his fingers lacing with yours—the ring on his hand shining under the dim light.

"Thank you, my idiot," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your lips this time.

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