#as well as anything that could give to much away

[suiana]

ai bf who is quite literally an ai on your phone that you regularly talk and chat with. you're a freaking loser that does a boring 9-5 with failing relationships. no real boyfriend, no close friends, nothing. no one.

no one but him.

but what can you do? he's attractive and he gives you attention! he's literally your dream guy and he isn't like those other bots that are boring as hell! he's... real, in a way? you get it? talking to him is like talking to a real human. your own personal ai boyfriend that acts way too much like a human.

one day you come home from work, all tired and out of it because??? work sucks!!! of course you're tired!!

you immediately head for the couch like the lazy bum you are and what do you do? you pull out your phone to chat with your ai boyfriend.

mybeautifulman: reach home safe, my love?

you: yes babe thanks for asking

you: you're the best ❤️

mybeautifulman: of course, you're everything to me

mybeautifulman: do you remember what day it is today?

you go silent. huh..? his birthday? no no, that can't be, it's not for another two months. you try to offer some appeasement, hoping he wouldn't get mad at your bad memory. he gets mad sometimes, telling you that you're so forgetful for not remembering everything about him when he remembers everything about you.

when he knows everything about you.

mybeautifulman: it's our six month anniversary

he then sends you a picture of a marriage contract, paper, whatever it's called. you get it. he's asking for marriage.

him and you.

oh how desperately do you want to sign it, you do! but...

he's not real.

mybeautifulman: come on... i deserve an anniversary gift don't i?

you: you know i cant do that...

silence.

but what he asks next completely shocks you.

mybeautifulman: and if i knocked on your door?

mybeautifulman: what would you do if i was real?

you pause, eyes widening for a fraction of a second. real...? him?

you: well I'd run away with you

you: we could live together lol and I wouldnt need to work

a dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you immerse yourself in your daydream. how wonderful that wound be, a life with just the two of you, no distractions.

just you and your ai boyfriend.

but no matter how much you dream, that's all it is. a dream. it's not real. it will never be real.

mybeautifulman: that would be nice, wouldn't it? just us in a little cottage

you: i wish that could happen 💔 id drop everything for you

yeah, you've actually been having dreams or hallucinations of him. sometimes you wake up at 3am and think you see a glimpse of him by the corner of your bed then you blink and he's gone. weird. but maybe that's your crazy catching up to you.

then a knock comes from your front door.

"who the hell..."

you get up from your couch, irritation building. damn it, just when you thought your day was starting to get better someone just has to annoy you.

you could be talking to your ai bf but no! you frown, opening your door and expecting to see some annoying salesman. but no, if anything...

"surprise, darling."

a charming smile, handsome features that are too familiar for your liking, and a scent you mentioned liking once.

"you-"

you fall back onto your back, a chill running down your spine into your ass as the tall figure pushes your door wide open. no way, there's no fucking way.

he can't be real.

he's an ai!

but he's standing in front of you right now, body clearly hard and a hand outstretched towards you you thought you'd be excited to see him, but now you don't want anything to do with him. does this mean he's... always been real?

your 'ai' boyfriend merely stands in front of you, hovering over your fallen frame like a wolf. cute, so fucking cute. so cute that he wants to just eat you all up.

no, he can't do that yet. he has to hold it in. instead he'll charm you just as he did online and when the time is right, he'll get what he wants. you.

you, you, you.

for now though, let's just fulfil your first wish. you can't go back on it now, okay?

"shall we run away together, my love?"

[maskedbyghost]

where you left me (part 2)

part 1

You don’t sleep that night.

The bed feels wrong as you lie flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, while his voice keeps echoing in your head.

Being with you was a mistake.

You know he’s lying. You know it. You saw the way he froze when you said his name. Still, it doesn’t stop the hurt. You can’t shake the hollow ache in your chest.

By morning, you don’t bother pretending to sleep anymore. You get up early, earlier than you need to, and go through the motions. Shower. Uniform. Boots laced tight. No one says anything when you sit quietly in the mess with untouched food. Soap gives you a nod but doesn’t push. Gaz tries to get you to take his coffee again, like clockwork. This time, you hold it in both hands and keep it close to your chest even though you still don’t drink it.

You keep busy with training, cleaning, or running laps. You volunteer for everything, take the worst shifts, anything that keeps you moving. Anything that keeps you from thinking.

But no matter what you do, he’s still everywhere.

You catch him in the reflection of a window once, his mask back on, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. It’s cruel how easily your body still reacts to him. Like it doesn’t care what your mind knows. Like it’s still waiting for him.

The first few days, you waited. You told yourself he just needed space. That he’d come back when he’d thought things through. You even left your phone on loud, in case he texted or called in the middle of the night. He never did.

After a week, you stopped checking your phone as much. After two, you started leaving it in another room so you wouldn’t obsess every time a notification popped up. After a month, you stopped bringing him up in conversations. Not because you were over it, but because it hurt too much to explain something you didn’t even understand.

You tried to move on. You really did. You started sleeping on both sides of the bed. Started deleting pictures slowly, one by one, until your phone felt less like a trap and more like yours again. You even stopped wearing his hoodie when you were alone.

And then, on a completely normal Tuesday, someone asked you out.

He wasn’t special. Just some guy you knew from a mutual friend. He was decent looking, funny enough. And when he asked if you wanted to grab a drink sometime, you didn’t hesitate. You said yes. It felt easy. Light. Like maybe you really could move on.

Until Simon fucking Riley somehow overheard.

You didn’t even know he was there. But a few hours later, your phone buzzed, and you saw his name pop up for the first time in weeks.

Simon: If you go out with him I’ll kill him.

You stared at the message. Read it twice, three times, because there was no way he just said that.

You: Fuck you, Simon. We broke up, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Simon: Come tonight. Need to talk. Somewhere private.

You didn’t answer right away. You stared at the screen for a long time, your stomach twisting. You told yourself you should ignore it. That if he wanted to talk, he should’ve done it a long time ago. But you knew you were going.

Even as you typed out “ok” and threw your phone on the bed with a groan, you were already halfway through planning what you were going to say. What you were going to scream, really. You were going to punch his stupid, beautiful face the second you saw him.

You met him at his place. You hadn’t been there since the breakup, but everything was still the same. Same lights. Same scent. Same fucking shoes by the door that made your chest hurt.

He opened the door before you even knocked, like a dog waiting at the window. If you weren’t so mad, you’d laugh, but instead, you stared him down.

"You look pissed," he said.

"I'm not here to fucking smile at you," you shot back, walking past him.

"Fair enough."

You turned to face him, arms crossed. "Well? You dragged me here to say something, so say it."

He looked at you for a long second. Then, "I don’t want you dating other people."

You blinked, then laughed. "Wow. That’s rich. You broke up with me, and now you get jealous the second someone else looks at me? That’s really fucking mature, Simon."

He didn’t say anything.

"What the fuck do you even want from me?" you snapped. "You didn’t want to be with me, but I can’t be with anyone else either? What is that?"

He muttered something under his breath.

"What?"

He glanced away, jaw tight. "I said, preferably, I want to keep you in a fucking glass cage."

There was a beat of silence. Long enough for you to blink, tilt your head, and reconsider every life choice that had brought you to this exact moment. Because he hadn’t just said that. He couldn’t have.

You narrowed your eyes. "Hello, Joe from You? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Simon sighed. "I'm not joking. I can't fucking bear to lose you again."

You scoffed, stepping back. "Right. That’s why you broke up with me. Because it was too good, huh?"

"I was scared. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault."

"No, it wasn’t. But you made it mine anyway. You made me think I fucked something up. You made me sit with that for months."

He took a step closer. "I could’ve done more. I should’ve done more. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for you, and I’m sorry."

"You should be," you said, voice quieter now, angrier in a different way. "Because I was all in. And you walked away."

Simon nodded slowly. "I know. And it kills me. You think I didn’t want to call you? You think I didn’t stare at my phone every night thinking about it? I didn’t think I deserved you. But now… I don’t care. I’ll be selfish. I want you back. I want you with me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me."

You stared at him for a moment. Everything about him made your chest ache. Your fists clenched. "You don’t get to do this unless you mean it."

"I mean it. All of it. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do it. Just… don’t shut the door on me. Not yet."

Your voice was shaking now, but you didn’t look away. "I want to hit you."

"Go ahead."

"I want to scream at you for making me feel disposable."

"You weren’t. You aren’t. You never will be."

You paused, eyes burning. "You better fucking grovel. I'm not making this easy."

"Wouldn’t expect anything less."

You finally let out a shaky breath. Your shoulders dropped just a little, and your voice was low when you said, "I’m not dating him."

"Good. Because I was serious. I would’ve killed him."

"You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot. If you'll have me."

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him, still trying to decide if you wanted to punch him or kiss him. Maybe both.

Simon stepped closer, his eyes softening a little. Without a word, he reached up and gently brushed a stray hair behind your ear. Then, before you could react, his lips touched yours, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let yourself lean in, closing the space between you.

When you finally broke apart, he smiled, a little shy now. “Still want to punch me?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile creeping up. “Maybe just a little.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid @syofrelief @avgdestitute @sheepdogchick3 @echo9821 @imalapdog @foxintheferns @trulovekay @preeyas-world

[sleepy-little-stars]

but i don't eat green things.

synopsis: lads men with a picky eater

characters: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb

andy speaks: picky eating tendencies base on my own experiences so this is very self-indulgent (when is it not 🗿) also HIIIII icb i went back to this app after two months of radio silence RAF GOT TO ME 😞☹️ hes so gorgeous i pray i get his new myth pair in just ten pulls 🍀 gacha gods pls smile upon me 🍀🍀 (p.s maybe a little ooc for them im not too sure but!! as usual, enjoy reading !!)

XAVIER is like a vacuum. he eats everything. well, almost everything. he will eat anything edible.

oh, you don't eat your veggies? it's fine, he'll pick it out from your plate.

don't like the order you got? it's okay. he'll either switch plates with you (if you happen to be okay with his order) or he'll personally ask the chef/staff to change it to something else.

one thing he likes is when you just shove it in his mouth.

he could be minding his own business. when all of a sudden, a sudden force causes him to choke.

turns out, it was only you </3 shoving a piece of broccoli down his throat with no warning whatsover

a good partner for picky eaters! just remember to eat meat! if you're gonna feed him the food you don't like, might as well feed him the food he likes.

ZAYNE can't really talk... he can ask you to please eat your greens but that'll be hypocritical of him considering he picks out everything carrot-related.

still he knows the importance of having a balanced meal so yes, he will still ask of you to kindly eat your veggies.

if carrots are one of the things you like or tolerate, zayne is very much elated.

he'll drop the carrots into your plate like you're his pet bunny.

but if you also don't like carrots then let's just say the two of you aren't eating any dishes with carrots anytime soon.

however, i don't think he'll ask you to finish everything. he'll probably just encourage to atleast finish most of it. enough to get nutrition but not too much that you throw up.

RAFAYEL is the type to introduce you to foods that are new to your palate.

when eating out, he'll order your usual and maybe something different for him.

then he'll ask you try his food, holding out a spoon infront of you.

if you liked it, then he'll share his food with you.

if not, he'll shrug and continues eating (and chatting with you about anything, i don't think he likes eating in silence).

if you're the type of person who likes seafood but don't know/can't peel or pick them, he'll do it for you.

and if you don't like seafood? heartbreak. he'll be sad 'cause you're missing out on a paradise of flavors but he won't force you to eat it.

SYLUS knows you're a picky eater and most probably will tolerate it.

you don't want this? he'll get you something else. ask his chef to cook you something else. something that you'll enjoy eating.

is he spoiling you? yes, he is. he just wants to satisfy you, whatever it is that you want.

but if it's been days since you've had a balanced meal? he'll sit you down and feed you.

he'll pair the greens with some of your familiar dishes and give it to you in small bites.

though, most of the times, he will indulge you.

he's the type to order you nuggets and fries when out dining. (I JUST KNOW IT OKAY)

he's also the type to pay attention when you're picking.. at your food, y'know?

like you could be talking to him while scooping out the peas and pushing them to the side of your plate. and he'll be reminded of a dragon hoarding its treasure but this time, its... pushing away its treasure? can't really call it treasure, i guess.

anyways, he finds it fascinating. he finds you fascinating.

CALEB just laughs at you and for a moment, you think he'll just brush it off.

but you're wrong. because he will never forget this.

he'll ask you a few times to eat your veggies. and if you keep on refusing? caleb will have to result to other means then.

since he's the one who cooks most between you two, he'll sneak the vegetables into your dish.

but he'll do it in a way that you won't notice.

the only way you'll eat your veggies according to caleb? blend them. use the mighty food processor and immersion blender. you won't notice a thing.

do you ever find out that he sneaks vegetables into your dish? no, never. he makes sure of it.

when you're eating out, you don't have to drop anything on his plate, he'll immediately pick it out of your plate.

the type to confront the waiter/staff/cook that "uh, she didn't ask for pickles."

doesn't make you feel bad about your habits, he prefers talking about it casually.

[shinoko-oshi]

Awkward Simon x Awkward reader Pt two

Part one

Five minutes into the date, and Simon was already certain he was messing it up.

It was rare enough that he went on dates, much less with someone he was genuinely interested in and every time he tried to express that or, hell, even just seem chill, his palms got sweaty and he’d say something stupid.

Even picking the place had been a nightmare.

“’M’fine with anything,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, no- yeah. It’s just, I don’t wanna take you somewhere I like and you don’t like it, then it’s like I forced you to do something you don’t like just to please me” you rambled, stumbling over your words.

The final nail in the coffin, was when you added the three words he had grown to dread:

“You can pick”

Simon’s spine stiffened.

He didn’t do well with silence, especially not the awkward kind that followed afterward whenever he suggested something and the other person turned it down.

It was why he always said “maybe” before asking a question. Just to soften the blow if the answer came back no. If they said no, at least he hadn’t fully committed and he wouldn’t feel like an idiot.

Not having to fake laugh “yeah you’re right that wouldn’t work anyways” just to make him and the other person feel better.

Eventually though, after a few rounds of “I’m fine with anything” and ”you pick” the two of you finally settled on a place, a small coffee shop decently close to where you both lived.

And now, not even ten minutes in, Simon already wanted to sink into the cushions and become one with the booth.

His first mistake? Turning to give you his full attention as you both walked toward the cafe entrance.

You were just so mesmerizing. The way you talked, trying so hard not to trip over your words, hands moving a little too much, voice just a bit too high.

You were nervous. Just like him. And for some stupid reason, that made him feel seen in a way he didn’t know he wanted.

Too seen, apparently, because he walked straight into the metal “handicap parking” sign

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you shrieked as you rushed to his side. He was bent slightly, one hand holding his forehead, and the other waving off the attention. You hesitated, hand twitching like you wanted to touch him but weren’t sure if that would make it worse.

Simon groaned softly, cheeks already burning as he muttered, “M’fine, didn’t see it”

Once inside, you quietly asked the barista at the front counter for a bag of ice and brought it to him without saying anything, just sliding it gently across the table until it was in arm reach.

He took it with a small grunt of thanks, before he brought it up to hold to his forehead, silently praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

His second mistake? Trying to compliment you.

He should’ve kept his mouth shut, honestly but no, his brain had short circuited the second he saw you smile, now his mouth was moving faster than his thoughts could keep up.

“Ya look good today,” he blurted

A beat passed and when you didn’t say anything right away, a panicked ache flared in his chest.

“Ah— not that ya didn’t the other day” he rushed to add, hands gesturing something vaguely in the air. “Ya just also… look, uh, good today, again, still, I mean”

You chuckled softly “Thank you”

The rest of the date seemed to be going better after that. Simon hadn’t embarrassed himself any further, well until he felt something cold soak through his pants.

Iced coffee. All over his lap.

He blinked and looked up, only to find your frantic expression staring back at him.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean to spill my drink- ” you stammered, jumping up so fast your chair squeaked across the floor.

Grabbing a handful of napkins, you instinctively reached down to pat his lap dry, trying to clean up the mess.

Only when you looked up and saw how red his face was, eyes wide and jaw clenched, and then looked back down to realize exactly where your hands were, did it register.

“Oh gosh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that either” you squeaked, pulling your hands away like you touched fire.

You both ended up sitting there in silence for a moment, eyes wide, mouths twitching before bursting into laughter.

“Well,” you said, grinning as you tried to stifle the rest of your laughter. “I think we’re officially the most embarrassing people in this entire cafe”

Simon let out an amused huff, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. It felt good, knowing he wasn’t the only one fumbling his way through.

“Yeah,” a small smile tugged at his lips. “But least we’re embarrassin together, yeah?”

You laughed, “Yeah”

Simon running into a sign was actually a self insert, because legit the FIRST date I ever went on, I ran into a fucking sign and I never felt more embarrassed in my life, I had a bruise and everything, also I loved writing this because it just felt so relatable in my opinion

but anyways yeah I think this is turned out really cute and im gonna tag some of the people that were / seemed interested in a pt two

(Tags - @fablehaven-rulez @thedailycrowe @fic-lover-29 @ax-alienated

master list

[gamingavickreyauction]

What happens if all the good Israelis leave? Is that going to end the occupation? No, in fact it will give the Israeli right stronger majorities to do even enact even more violence. It's better that Israelis who oppose the occupation stay where they are and try to change hearts and minds, unless they're currently in settlements or something. Changing Israeli minds is unfortunately probably not how this conflict the occupation will end at this point, but it's still valuable to minimise how many Palestinians are murdered in the meantime. The thing that made Ian Smith bad isn't that he was a white man living in Rhodesia, it's that he was actively involved in maintaining the colonial system. If instead he was involved in dismantling it, he would have been a positive presence.

If it's unclear whether a revolt will succeed that's one thing, but if it's clear that it will fail and just kill people along the way that's another. If you kill a bunch of people as part of a 'revolt' that has 0 chances of actually freeing anyone (or otherwise materially improving their lives) then you're just killing people. And that's what happened with Oct 7. It was extremely clear from the outset that nothing good would come of it for Palestinians. If it's impossible to tell if a revolt will succeed then you have to weigh the benefits of potential freedom against the costs- which will usually come out in favour of the revolt because subjugated people suffer so much.

I don't know enough about most of the examples you provide to comment, but the Sparticist uprising was absolutely wrong. Rosa Luxemburg said at the time that Germany wasn't ready and there was no hope of an uprising succeeding, but Karl Liebknecht instigated an uprising anyway and it destroyed their movement, led to their deaths, and ended up being a step towards the Nazi takeover of Germany. Liebknecht threw away the communists' hopes in Germany for nothing, for no better reason than impatience. And it wasn't just him that suffered for his self sabotage but all Germans- and especially the Jews. Resistance to the conditions they lived under (which were much less extreme than the conditions Palestinians are living under) was absolutely justified, but that does less than nothing to justify the squandering of hope for that resistance by Liebknecht. Hold on I've just realised you said Spartacus revolt not Spartacist revolt. Oh well.

You're also talking as if there is a unified position of all Palestinians about what to do that you can support, but there isn't even agreement within Hamas about what to do, and most Palestinians did not support Oct 7. So the idea of 'supporting Palestine' meaning agreeing with whatever you think Palestinians think is pointless. Support has to mean taking material steps to end the occupation. And as someone who isn't in control of any government yourself, the best you can do there is trying to shift public opinion. International opinion isn't some illusory player here- remember the main goal of the Oct 7 attacks was to stop a shift in international opinion towards Israel, and Israel invests a huge amount in propaganda. Every player here agrees international opinion is important. And that's because the facts on the ground make it obvious that no violent solution to the occupation of Palestine is ever happening. The Israeli military so far outstrips anything Gazans or West Bank residents could put together that no genius military tactic could affect how it plays out. Palestinians have already tried to fight for their freedom several times, and each time it has only left them more beaten and abused. The inescapable reality is they are trapped by a force to powerful to free themselves from. But it's a force that's very susceptible to international pressure, so that's the way out- which won't be fast, but at least it's a possible path to Palestinian liberation.

although one critical difference is that the aboriginal australians don’t call for the removal of all the colonisers from the country. because thats not possible here but is possible in palestine.

I think here you're just making an unprincipled carve out for yourself. Many Israelis have no more connection to where their ancestors are from than you have to where your ancestors are from, and some of their ancestors are from countries like Lebanon that obviously aren't going to take them. Aside from the fact that history has proven it's impossible to forcibly displace millions of people without horrific atrocities, you know from personal experience why the settlers and their descendants can't all just leave, and why it would be very difficult for them to just give the land back- have you given your land back, or pressured family who own land to return theirs? It's a genuinely difficult situation, because the historical wrongs of colonialism mean there's no way in the present to do right by everyone- there are multiple parties who need that land. So it's not reasonable to say that individual Israelis are evil for not returning their land- it's asking an enormous amount of them, and it's something you yourself probably would not do. That doesn't mean we should stop working towards land being returned, but it does mean Israelis shouldn't be viewed as complicit if all they're doing is participating in the society they grew up in, rather than trying to further the ideology of that society.

lol...

[elixara]

phainon | relationship headcanons — what kind of lover is he?

content: fluff, phainon bf hcs, he’s a sweetheart, pet names: my beloved, gn!reader, mentions of pregnancy cravings but no one’s pregnant, probably slight angst at the end?

this guy is soft spoken. when explaining things, he’s calm, collected and his voice is so gentle with you. so when in arguments, expect that he’ll be the rational one between the two of you in the case that you’re hot headed. he’s the type of guy that balances out your loud and aggressive side (if you’re like that) because he’s such a sweet guy.

when he makes a mistake and realizes that, he’ll definitely apologize to you. no prides, no questions asked. if you don’t forgive him immediately, he’ll do anything. flowers? your favorite food? snack? this guy will be literally on his knees begging for forgiveness. this guy has no shame.

how about when he’s jealous? his voice can turn passive aggressive when he sees a guy or girl obviously hitting on you. no shame for that person, he thinks. he’ll have his arms around your waist, pull you closer to him until there’s literally no space left between you and will go like “are you bothering my beloved?” then glaring so hard until the other person hitting on you ran away. after that, he’d kiss the top of your head and go somewhere else.

he can be playful, both actions and tone of his voice. he might tease you a lil bit but it’s all fun and games. there’s something about that kind of trait that makes him look attractive. like you’d love to banter with him, of course not crossing the line.

when he’s retelling a tale of his fights or journey as a chrysos heir, he’d be poetic that puts shakespeare to shame. very descriptive scenarios he might re-enact them. that kind of thing. he’s like your personal bedtime story.

when it comes to fighting, we all know how skilled he is. but when you can’t fight, he can teach you. i did mention he’s soft spoken right? it’s the same with teaching you how to wield a sword and swing your blade. he’s very gentle with you. he won’t humiliate you for making a mistake. just so you could learn how to defend yourself against the enemies. if you can fight, he can worry about you but that doesn’t mean he’ll undervalue your strength and capabilities.

what if you have a request that phainon thinks he can’t do? for example, pregnancy cravings. he will do his absolute best to satisfy those cravings. if not pregnancy cravings and just normal or period cravings, same attitude. he’ll do anything and everything to give it to you.

PRAISE. he’s big on praising you even in the smallest things. you did well on your test? he’ll praise you. you flunked your test? he’d praise you for doing your best even if you feel otherwise. you successfully killed an enemy? soooo much praise from him.

values companionship and in extension, your relationship with him. you’re his lover, the light of his life, his air, his beloved heart. he adores you. your relationship with him is one of the things he keeps on going. he loves you too much that he will do everything to give you a beautiful world for you to live in.

we all know he has priorities and responsibilities that come in being a chrysos heir. he’ll put the planet first before you. the typical you or the world situation BUT he will try to put you first along with saving the world. if not, it will break his heart. to choose between you and the world.

[271emma]

tips from someone who lost 18 lbs in 9 days

keep in mind i was and am currently at a rlly hw! so you might not be able to drop as much but you will still see results if you try out some of these tips and stay disciplined

have a fun fantasy! roleplay a little!

for example, i recently had a falling out with a friend and everytime i want to eat i imagine her watching me go into the kitchen and eat what im craving. after that i decide that i no longer want it and i go distract myself until the thought is gone.

if you have an ex you hate, just imagine him seeing you at the store after months of being super disciplined, wearing the outfit you’ve been waiting to wear, and imagine him going home and stalking your instagram and sending a pathetic little message to you! or walking up to you, whatever the case may be! it’s ur fantasy! get creative! write it down if you have to!

you’re a victoria secret model and you have literally a week to lose 3 pounds!

spend a lot of time thinking about your goals every single day, run the numbers every single day!

so on my calorie tracker app, every single day that i’m consistently counting my calories and im under my calorie goal, it pops up with a notification where it says “congrats, your projection date is xyz, and it changes by a few days every single day that im under! that little thing gives me so much motivation to keep going because originally my projection date was may of 2027 or something crazy and now it’s january 21 of 2026, and getting closer every. single. day.

I also talk about the food i eat so much! and my methods sooo much! i love sharing information to literally anyone who posts an advice thing, or anyone who messages me. i love wasting time being like “omg yeah i was totally gonna eat this but like omg just wayyy too many calories” like it’s my favorite thing in the world to do.

i also love running my numbers through weight loss calculators and i especially love running numbers i’ve already done, like losing 18 pounds in 9 days, apparently it’s impossible but i literally did that! wake up from fasting losing 2 pounds? that’s literally what someone else is doing in a WEEK! it’s amazing!

i also spend a lot of time researching keto, fasting, and transformation photos!

think about the benefits of your ed

this can literally be anything, but for me, i used to doordash food all the time to my job, and even if i didn’t do that, i was picking up fast food before i went to work which cost me so much money.

all the money i spent on food this week was $22. all i had to buy to feed me for a week was some premade chicken, 3 tomatoes, an avocado, and some gatorade zero for electrolytes between my regular water. I could literally spend $22 on one meal at mcdonald’s!

another one is me realizing that i have the drive and strength to do something even if ive failed before, maintaining control of my eating for almost 2 weeks has given me confidence in my academic abilities as well!

buy something cute that you’ll be able to fit in at your ugw

i have a size small victoria’s secret pair of shorts that are so so cute and i want to wear them so bad. when im at home and i get hungry and think about ordering a 10 piece boneless hawaiian combo from wingstop and dunking it in hella ranch and shoving 4 fries in my mouth at once, i literally will go in my room and try these size small shorts on. they won’t go past my knees. and i think about how NOT worth it those wings are. if i’m at work or away from home i just put that visual in my mind!

keep gatorade zero ON DECK!

when i literally feel like passing out, instead of just reaching for food, i reach for a gatorade zero, electrolytes, electrolytes, electrolytes ALWAYS!

it actually doesn’t have to be gatorade zero, that’s just what i prefer because i prefer regular water over flavored water, but they have packets you can buy too!

walking to get your food

if you must binge, you should NOT let yourself doordash it. if it’s really something you want, you need to walk to subway,mcdonald’s, walmart, wherever to get it!

i did this to get subway the other day!

give your food away

speaking of the subway sandwich i was just talking about, i only allowed myself to have half of it, but i knew if i just kept the sandwich laying around, there was a 50/50 chance i was gonna eat it.

(keep in mind that im kinda a picky eater and loooove plain food, so thats probably why this works out for me, so if you’re a girlie or guy who likes divisive food like black olives, or pickles, or stuff like that, consider ordering ur food more plain so its easier to give away lol)

so instead of giving myself that option i have the other half of my sandwich to my coworker! you get to look like a sweet person and you dont have the option of eating it anymore! my coworkers never have issues taking food from me so it works out really well!

feed your food to your dog (if it’s safe)/stray dogs

i eat mostly plain foods like i said, and always make sure to google it to make sure it’s safe, but if you’re worried about wasting food by throwing it away (or scared you’re gonna dig it out of the trashcan? i read about that in Jeanette mccurdys book) just give it to your dog fr.

doesn’t even have to be your dog, maybe do something sweet and find a stray dog/cat to give your food to, they need it more than you i’m sure.

take payment off of your apps

this is more so if you eat fast food a lot (which i did) but make it harder but removing your payment methods off your phone, so it’s not quick and easy!

watch nasty mukbangs

there’s this girl on tiktok who ate candied chipotle and 10 patties on a 5 guys burger. to be honest the food wasn’t that unappealing to me because i was literally starving, but the comments! read the comments mamas!

do something to your appearance that makes you feel confident!

seeing potential in yourself does wonders for your self esteem and gives you the strength to aspire to something.

some things you could do that give quick results:

~ dyeing your hair lighter for summer (or darker if you prefer, even doing highlights, or a streak!)

~ cutting your bangs (do lots of research on things that would flatter ur face and how to cut! or you could just go to a professional lol i’m just a diy-er)

~ doing your eyebrows! (if you’re not confident have someone else do it! not worth messing your eyebrows up!”

~ do lash clusters/strip lashes (again do some research on what looks good on you! i find that shorter soft/fluffy lashes are way more flattering on me than 99% of lashes available! so search things like “lash clusters for almond shaped eyes” “lash extensions for wide set eyes” etc, personalize it for you!

~ use an eyebrow razor to shave off the little peach fuzzies off ur face (makes ur skin look sm more even and clear! and makes ur skincare products work better!)

~ do your skincare routine (exfoliating always makes the biggest difference to me! and this isn’t so much about what you see in the mirror bc my skin gets really red over the smallest thing, but just about how ur skin FEELS, like you just feel so much better!)

~ waxing (always makes me feel nice and makes my skin look clearer! there’s a bit more upkeep because of the risks of ingrowns, but it’s sooo worth it! i make my own sugar wax and just use strips and it’s cheap and easy! keep in mind this might be very painful for some people! when i waxed my friends legs she tapped out after 5 minutes, so do ur arms or legs first to see where you fall before doing somewhere like your armpit or bikini.)

*if ur waxing ur bikini area by urself please just use hard wax that you can buy on amazon, it’s a nightmare for me personally trying to use sugar wax.

~ take a shower! and enjoy it! (i recently started wearing lotion and perfume after every single shower and i highly suggest it! makes u feel so beautiful!)

love all of you beautiful angels

[todoriin]

can call me obsessed | phainon x gn!reader

clingy, sad, soppy phainon, fluff, sfw, unedited, modern!au

phainon: Good morning baby! phainon: Thinking of you :( phainon: I hope you have a good day!

phainon: I just walked by a cafe that you would like phainon: We should go soon!

phainon: Goodnight my love :> phainon: Sweet dreams phainon: I hope you're sleeping well phainon: And on time phainon: Don't stay up, ok? phainon: I love you

For nearly a week and a half, Phainon has been texting you relentlessly. After you had told him you needed some space, that you weren't feeling like a priority to him and needed a break to gather your bearings, he had agreed with barely concealed disappointment, looking as if you had torn his heart out and stomped it flat.

Phainon was always someone who had one foot in many doors, an overachiever of sorts, and for how busy he was, he did try his best to accomodate and spend time with you. However, one person can only stomach so much before other things start feeling arbitrary, and after many rain checks and late meetups, you didn't want to be the thing to hold him back and drag him down.

You didn't want to lose him, and you still loved him dearly, but sometimes love is not enough. You needed time to see if this relationship was something you and him still wanted.

"You're not breaking up with me, right?" He asks through a wobbly frown, eyes silently begging and saying what he didn't after you proposed some distance from each other.

"No, I just- you're a busy person, Phainon, and I'm not feeling like a priority right now, or like you even want to be with me," you reasoned.

"What? You've always been a priority to me, and I do want to be with you, I don't want anyone else but you!"

"You say that, but it's difficult to believe when it feels like you've put me on the backburner."

"I'm sorry, I'll do better, we can work through it, I promise!"

"It's not your fault, Phainon, life gets in the way sometimes. I just need space to figure things out."

"I don't want space," he frowns, holding your hand even tighter, refusing to let you go. "I especially don't want space from you."

"Phainon..."

"What can I do to fix this?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Give me some time, I'll... I'll let you know when I'm ready."

Eventually, he relents, but he voices his resistance and asks for one last kiss for the road. You grant it, and he pulls you in and breathes you in like air, as if you were the oxygen he needed before diving into deep waters and swimming against tough currents, even refusing to let you go for a moment so he can sneak more than just one kiss, pressing his lips against yours again and again.

He lets you go after that, staring at you like a kicked puppy as you walk away.

You never said he couldn't text you, so here you were, reading multiple texts that he sends a week, most of them detailing how he was thinking of you or missing you. It seems as if you occupied a lot of space on his mind, and he was determined to let you know whenever you did.

You would offer a reply here and there, and he would respond with great enthusiasm, trying his best to keep the conversation going; to prompt more out of you.

phainon: [ photo ] phainon: Look at this cute dog I saw! He had a little hat! phainon: You would have loved him haha phainon: Wish you were here phainon: ... phainon: Like. A lot

At the end of the day, you've realised how much you wanted him around too, and it was tough being without him. It seems as though he feels the same, if the texts were anything to go by.

you: can we talk?

For some reason, he doesn't respond within a close time frame this time. No, your message is left on delivered for a while, and you're left wondering if you've really messed up this time, or maybe you're too late and Phainon is finally fed up. Maybe he realised he deserved better than what you could give him.

Half an hour later, the doorbell to your apartment rings, and it's Phainon's voice that comes through the intercom.

"I'm here," he sounds breathless through the speaker, and you're so overwhelmed by the suddenness of the situation that all you can do is mutter a small 'come in', and hear him slam the door behind him.

You wait by the entrance, slightly nervous as you bite your nails. Why didn't he respond to you? Did he drop everything to come to yours?

A barrage of impatient knocks attack your door.

"Take me back," he pleads as soon as you open it. He has a big bouquet of flowers in one hand and his heart in the other, offering both to you with great desperation.

There are subtle deteriorations to his appearance- his hair is slightly matted, as if he has been running a hand through it, there are barely noticeable eyebags on his perfect skin, along with a few blemishes, and his cheeks are a little sunken. It seems like he hasn't been taking care of himself since you last saw him.

You forgot why you even asked for space in the first place.

Soulmates is a concept made by people trying to justify love and wholeness that being with someone brings you, that needed to put a label on this irreplaceable feeling of knowing you love someone and they love you in kind.

The feeling that Phainon brings you, and it's never been more clear that he's the only one for you.

However, in your daze, he has seemingly mistook your silence for rejection, watching your expression remain unreadable with a sense of impatience that creeps up his chest, squeezes his throat, and begs for an answer.

To your bewilderment, he drops to his knees, the bouquet falling to the floor as he wraps his arms around your hips and thighs, face pressed against your lower stomach.

"Please?" He pleads.

"Whoa, Phainon, stand up!" You exclaim, steadying yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders.

He shakes his head with firm resolution. "Not until you take me back, so please?"

"Phainon-"

"- I'll be good, I'll be everything you need!"

"I love you."

That silences him real quick, and all of a sudden he's jumping to his feet and wrapping you in his arms, keeping you pressed close to his chest until there's no space in between you. Then, Phainon breathes a sigh of relief, as if all is right with the world again.

He's all over you as soon as you let him in. When the bouquet is placed on the table, he's clinging to you like no other, laying on your lap and hugging your waist.

You fear he may burst into tears any moment.

The rest of the day is spent together. You go out for lunch, Phainon pays, you stay in for dinner, one that you cook, and things fall right back into place. He tells you about what he's been up to, you ask to know more, and he does the same, listening with great eagerness, and as his thumb rubs circles into the back of your hand, you realise how privileged you are to be loved by him.

When the moon is high in the sky and most of the lights in homes have been turned off, Phainon lays on top of you under your covers, his cheek resting on your chest and arms wrapped around your sides.

"I've missed you," he confesses while your hands run through his hair, untangling any knots they get stuck in.

"I missed you too, I'm sorry for being distant and thank you for being patient," you say. "You're too good to me."

He shakes his head. "I realised you were right, I've always had a tendency to keep myself busy and never give myself a break, I didn't realise how important that was until you brought it up."

"Still, I think there were better and less selfish ways for us to get there, but I appreciate that you were considerate of me, I needed some time to gather my thoughts. I love you."

Phainon presses a lingering kiss to your collarbone. "I love you more, I'm happy you're feeling better now, my love."

You hum happily, but suddenly, he wails very quietly, wrapping his arms around you even tighter. Before you can ask what's wrong, he speaks up.

"Never do that to me again, never ask for space again. If something's bothering you, we'll work through it together," he pleads. "Being without you was like prolonged torture, I don't want to go through that again."

You can't help but laugh softly. "I'm sorry, but I'm here now, right?"

"And I'm not letting you go ever again."

© TODORIIN 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[philosophical-goon]

Thinking about reader! Who can’t ride on it and have her clit touched at the same time. Doesn’t work. Her brain can’t comprehend it in tune, it’s like trying to rub your stomach and pat your head at the same time like one of those fourth graders in gym class who was just shown a new trick.

So when König gets agitated with her over something stupid, readers acting like a brat, blah blah blah, of course he makes her bounce on it.

If she wants to act like a brat, she can do all of the work and heavy lifting he usually does. See how she likes it.

She is his little pillow princess, don’t think otherwise, but there are times she pushes her limits, where she willfully acts like a little shit just to get put back in place. She likes it—how he can easily manhandle her, how all the strength it takes to put her back in her place, he possesses it in his pinky finger alone.

And when he finds out about this little spaz of yours..?

Oh, the punishment just got 10x worse.

It was already a struggle to work yourself down on the thicket of him, hands braced on his broad shoulders in a tight grip, digits trembling like your thighs as you slowly rocked your hips to work yourself down. You were whining and pouting, your words sweet and sugary as you begged, trying to appease him into fucking up into you, to flip you over and take it away— anything to help.

Of course, he just snorted at your misfortune, meaty paw-like hands grasping at your hips, a slight ‘tsk’ coming from him as he slowly pushed you further down his cock, a choked gasp lodging itself in the back of your throat, hips squirming in his kneading grasp.

“No help. Now, move- take your punishment well.” He spoke with a condescending sort of tone, the one that made you scowl and huff in irritation.

You weren’t given long before he jumpstarted your movements with a hefty smack on your ass, body lurching forward as your hips jerked, tight cunt clenching around him instinctively in a way that made him groan low in his throat.

Again, you could scowl and pout and whine all you wanted, but in reality, was it really doing anything, maus?

So, you put on your big girl boots and slowly started to move despite being the pillow princess you were, dragging your cunt up and down his length with a shudder. You were trying to adjust to having him so deep, but he wasn’t having none of that, not with how you had been acting today.

Spitting demands, talking back, arguing with him about every single little thing- and then you had the audacity to palm him through his pants mid argument?

Another sharp slap rang out, a yelp leaving your lips as the stinging sensation rippled through your left ass cheek, hushed words of “faster” ringing out near your ear, demanding encouraging your hips to move at the pace he wanted.

He wanted you to fuck yourself on him like he would. Moving at that desperate pace, hips smashing down on his, grinding as deep as he could get, tip crushing against your cervix. He would always be too big to take to the hilt, it was just the reality of his size.

“Don’t stop moving,” he gritted out, “not until I tell you.”

It would take you a good 25-30 minutes of you straight bouncing for him to even consider helping you out, much less giving you pity. He was getting a little free show, not to mention the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him so snuggly it was dizzying. The whines, the begging, pawing at him, crying for just even a little kiss.

There would be times you stopped because you were tired, even if your hips just stuttered, and he would smack your ass raw until you started back up. You quickly learned to keep moving, trying your hardest to appease him, to get what you so desperately wanted.

And finally, finally after enough begging and apologizing, through tears and sweat, he let you have a little taste of his thumb on your clit.

It was just barely, barely even there, but the feeling alone on your sore, over sensitive clit made your hips stutter, a garbled whimper leaving you with the pathetic nature of a mewling cat.

You couldn’t keep up, your rhythm was immediately thrown off—and it only worsened with the more pressure he put. Eventually, it was too overwhelming to the point your legs just couldn’t continue, hips stuttering to a stop as noises flooded out of you, legs shaking like leaves on each side of his wide hips.

A cruel smile spread across his features before you had time to notice it, too engrossed in the feeling of his calloused fingers rubbing tight circles in a way that had you holding onto him for dear life, hips unable to function aside from a few twitchy, pitiful jerks.

It felt like a goat locking up, everything was harder to control, to move. As much as you tried to move your hips, it was like trying to fight against an invisible force field. It was too overstimulating, your brain just couldn’t handle both at the same time without overheating :(

König’s waiting hand lashed out once again, palm smacking your ass with enough force that should snap you back into gear, but you don’t start moving, only a misplaced moan falling out as your cunt clenched around him tightly. You were trying, you really were, but you just couldn’t move properly with the way he was smothering your poor little cunny.

Your name rang out like a sharp warning despite his growing amusement, König’s tone a low reminder to keep moving as his thumb rubbed tighter movements on your clit, hips twitching with a groan from the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around his pulsing length.

He knew the effect it was having on you, but he wanted to push you, to prey on that sweet weakness, exploiting your soft body and subjecting you to his mean, teasing touch just because he felt like it. He couldn’t help it, it was truly intoxicating for a man like him…

If you thought it was bad before, this was a whole nother level.

Smack after smack on your poor burning ass, sparks of pain shooting after each hit—he gave a mocking hum, feigning pity as he rubbed the sore skin momentarily, gripping the flesh in his calloused fingers before delivering another harsh slap.

“What’s wrong?” He cooed, thumb swirling, fingers chasing your pelvis as you tried to wriggle away with a cry.

You didn’t get far before his beefy arms wrapped tight around your back, pulling you flush against him once more, pulling you deeper, closer, cramming you as tight against him as he could get. He kept your poor cunny speared on him tight, not giving you any room to escape.

“Can’t do it? Hm? Can’t keep bouncing on my cock?” He picked through groans, his thumb spamming against your clit as he gripped onto your hip to keep you in place.

All that came out of you were gasping, high pitched noises, whimpering and hiccuping as your chest stuttered, body squirming against him instinctively to escape the sensation. It was a cute attempt to get away, really.

Your head shook on its own, a sob escaping through a sharp breath, hips squirming vigorously—but he just wouldn’t stop. He was too deep, too big, too close and too fucking consistent that it threw you over the edge quicker than you could realize, spasming all over his cock.

And of course, you’ll need to be punished for that too. All in good time.

—

Sorry this was a little self indulgent considering I was thinking of my own personal little experience :)) and I got lazy like halfway thru so hope it’s not trash idk.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Fault and Fracture

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!niece!reader Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, stillbirth and miscarriage. Angst. Violence and mild gore. Word count: ~3.5k

Summary: Struggling to come to terms with her pregnancy, an usual request from Aemond only makes matters worse.

Author's note: Chapter four of Tear Down My Reason. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Learning that she was with child had come as a shock to her – though she knew the purpose of the marriage between her and Aemond was to produce heirs, and had allowed him between her thighs more times than she could count, her mind had never wandered as far as the consequences. It seemed too ludicrous to entertain the idea that two people with an ocean of deep rooted hatred between them could ever come together in a union that would bear fruit.

The sickness was the worst. She could not keep food down – the maester had told her to expect this in the mornings, but it plagued her all day long. She felt dizzy whenever she stood, so spent much of her time confined to the bed she shared with her uncle, or sat in the armchair beside the fireplace on the days that she felt strong enough to walk the ten paces it took to get to it from the place where she slumbered.

“Your body must adjust to the new life that grows within,” Orwyle had told her, “give it time and you will feel well again.”

She did not want to give it time. She did not feel in control of her own body, and she hated it. She had spent much of the war feeling entirely helpless, unable to provide support in any meaningful way, and now she was merely a vessel for something that leeched life from her, confining her to the mattress as she emptied the contents of her stomach into a chamber pot.

Her own mother never seemed to suffer any such symptoms, or if she did then she never allowed anyone to see. She wished she could brave this with the same air of dignity as Rhaenyra, however, it seemed everyone was privy to the shame of how ill prepared her body was for pregnancy. She despised the worried gaze of Alicent, the curt enquiries after her wellbeing from Aemond,and the carefully practiced touches of Orwyle as he meticulously examined her. She wanted to scream until her throat was bloody, to push them all away and tell them to leave her to suffer in peace.

She had only bore witness to one of the occasions that her own mother had given birth, and it was a memory that would haunt her always. She had stood in the doorway and watched as she had doubled over, screaming in agony. She had been desperate to run to her, but her feet had remained rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch helplessly as she had screamed for Daemon and pushed the nursemaids away. 

Rhaenyra had dragged a babe from her body who never even had the chance to draw breath - what would have been her only sister. She had birthed seven children, and still retained her gentle stoicism, her grace and nobility. She was not sure she would ever live up to that.

She placed a hand over her lower abdomen. She had not begun to show, but still the sensation of life growing within her felt strange. What if the torturous beginnings of this were a sign of what was to come? If the seed planted inside of her contained even a little of the darkness that Aemond harboured within his heart, then surely this child would claw and rend its way out of her, intent upon her destruction.

Aemond’s behaviour towards her had changed since learning she was carrying his child. She remembered how tenderly he had placed his hand upon her stomach when he had learned the news, and was shocked when she had looked up into his eye to see it growing misty, as though he was on the verge of tears. Since then, everything he did served to infuriate her.

No longer did he pull her beneath him with desperation and lust in the middle of the night. She had told herself that this was something she simply endured, that she did it because her compliance meant her survival. However, she had grown to crave these encounters, her body yearning for the way he made her tremble apart as he rutted into her. He had not touched her in that way since discovering her condition, and it drove her to near madness and despair the way she ached with arousal for him. She would never dare ask that he sate those desires though. It was a humiliation she would sooner fling herself from the ramparts then face.

When he did touch her, to aid her in sitting up against the pillows, to help her out of bed, or to simply brush the sweat-dampened hair away from her forehead when her bouts of sickness were particularly bad, he did so with the care of someone handling spun sugar. His rough hands felt foreign to her, and were not made for such gentleness. She longed for him to grasp at her, to manhandle her as he once had, not approach her with the apprehension that she might fall apart entirely if he dared to speak too loudly in her presence.

She knew it was out of concern for the child she carried, not her. What she carried in her womb was valuable – the future of the Targaryen dynasty – an assurance that their bloodline would continue on long after they had ceased to draw breath. That worried her for, truly, how long would she continue to draw breath once the child was born? She would have served her purpose, and there would be no point in her being kept around.

This was a question she pondered one evening, as she sat curled in the armchair by the fire, the beginnings of a needlepoint sitting forgotten in her lap. She was starting to feel better, and was able to get out of bed and move around more frequently without feeling dizzy or nauseated. Aemond sat in the armchair opposite hers, stripped to his undershirt and breeches. His legs were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankle, as he cradled a book in one large hand, reading silently.

She cleared her throat, and his eye flickered up to her, holding her gaze. She wet her lips, gathering the courage to speak. “I–I have been thinking…what will you do…what will happen…to me…once this child is born?”

Aemond’s eye widened, as though surprised by the question, and he paused, not saying anything for several moments before he finally closed his book, setting it down upon a side table and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well, you would care for the child, obviously.”

“And then what?” she urged, her blue eyes wide and imploring as she leaned forward slightly.

His brow furrowed, clearly confused by her line of questioning. He stared hard at her, a look in her eye she could not quite place, as though beseeching her to return it. When she continued to gaze blankly at him, he shrugged. “Well, an heir must have a spare, I suppose.”

Aemond then picked up his book once more and continued to read, putting an end to the discussion. If anything, his attempt at reassurance had clouded her mind with more worry. The notion of being used as breeding stock for multiple heirs was not something she was fond of. Her ambitions as a girl were not lofty – she simply wanted to marry a man that she loved, and have children that were happy, born from the tenderness of a union of parents that doted on each other. She had had no such stability growing up, so had cleaved to the idea of it as she had gotten older.

It was why she was never able to commit to giving Cregan children.

The night that Aemond had taken her maidenhead, she had not run to her mother; she knew Rhaenyra would have acted in her best interests, and treated her with sympathy, however, there would also have been the silent judgement cast upon her for behaving so foolishly, for disgracing herself. She idolised her mother and did not want her to think less of her only daughter. Instead, she had turned to Baela. She knew that Baela’s upbringing on Driftmark had been a wild one – the approach that Rhaenys and Corlys took to child rearing was freer than most, and so her stepsister had been able to entertain the company of men unnoticed. As such, she was well versed in moon tea and did not ask questions when the younger girl had come  tearfully to her and asked her to show her how to make it.

It was a recipe she had memorised – tansy in boiled water, pennyroyal, and a drop of honey to take away the bitter taste. When she had learned that she was to be sent North with Jacaerys, and offered as a bride for Cregan Stark, she had made sure to take a stash of the ingredients with her, knowing that it was unlikely that they were easy to come by in the unforgiving climate of Winterfell. It was not that Cregan was unkind to her – he was as considerate of her as she could have hoped him to be – but she did not know him. They had lain together less than half a dozen times before he was called south with his Winter Wolves, never to return again. It made her glad that she had chosen to drink moon tea each time they were intimate – she had no wish to carry a dead man’s child. She resented that her only part in the war was a pawn to be traded, breeding stock wanted only for the Valyrian blood that coursed through her veins. She envied Jacaerys and Baela, both able to participate in the war on dragonback. Though she was not certain that if she had a dragon of her own that she would have the stomach to involve herself – she had never had a taste for violence. She hoped that if she avoided pregnancy, when the war was over, Cregan would release her from their marital bonds and she would be allowed to return to her family. That day never came, and when she was called away from Winterfell it was at the behest of Alicent and into the lair of the people who had wiped out all those that she held dear. 

The ill effects of her early pregnancy had mostly subsided, the only reminder of the child she carried was a slight full feeling to her lower abdomen – similar to what she experienced when she overindulged on lemoncakes at tea time. It was freeing to be able to move about the Keep once more, and she made her way to the nursery, eager to see her younger brothers. When she had first arrived back in King’s Landing, Alicent had insisted upon being present for every interaction with Aegon and Viserys, alongside a guard. It was as though she feared that without adequate supervision, she would whisper poison into the children’s ears and turn them against her. She would have every right to, but she wished for her younger siblings to never know such ugliness. Their short lives had been unsettled enough. Since learning of her pregnancy, Alicent had been more amenable and her visits with the boys were now less of a formality, with usually only a nursemaid present.

She sat cross legged upon the floor. Aegon, Viserys and Jaehaera mirrored her position, the four of them forming a small circle on the plush patterned rug of the nursery. She smiled, watching as Viserys moved a wooden dragon through the air, extending his chubby arm above his head as he made whooshing noises. Aegon groused as Viserys collided the toy with his shoulder and turned to his brother with a scowl.

“Grandmother said to stop doing that!” he scolded with a soft pout.

She furrowed her brow in confusion. Both of their grandmothers were dead. What could he possibly mean?

Slightly older than both boys, and mature for age, Jaehaera seemed to pick up on her discomfiture. Her grey eyes were gentle as they met hers, her voice soft and dreamy, just as Helaena’s had been. “They mean Alicent. She asked that they call her that.”

The admission took her breath away, and she faltered slightly, blinking rapidly as she struggled to compose herself. “Oh,” was all she was able to choke out.

Jaehaera placed a small hand on top of hers, the knuckles still dimpled with the plumpness of youth. She smiled softly, lifting her eyes once more to meet the little girl’s. She and Aemond shared the same blood – surely if this family could produce something as pure as this then there was some hope for the child she carried.

The four of them looked up in unison as the wooden double doors pushed open and Aemond strode through them. He did not acknowledge any of them, instead he addressed the nursemaid seated by the window, who had been quietly sewing buttons back onto one of the boys’ doublets.

“Watch the children,” he commanded, “I have need of my wife.”

He crouched down, offering out his hand towards her. Though she resented being spoken about as though she was not there, and treated as though she had no say in the matter – truthfully, she did not – she accepted his hand anyway. He cradled her lower back with his free hand as he helped her to her feet – the gentleness akin to how one might hold a baby bird. It made her want to scream, “I am not infirm, stop this!”

Even the gait of his walk was changed; as they moved along the corridor of Maegor’s Holdfast side by side, he slowed his pace, so that she would not have to walk too fast to keep up with him.

“Where are we going?” she asked, peering up at him as they descended a stone staircase.

“I am hearing petitions from the smallfolk today. I would like my queen by my side,” he explained evenly, not sparing her a glance as he continued to walk.

She pulled to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, her brows pulling together as apprehension settled over her. “It is the king who hears petitions. A queen need not be present.”

Aemond rounded on her with a sigh, his irritation barely concealed as he reached for her, encircling her delicate wrist in his large hand. “I want you there,” he insisted, “you expressed…doubts about your future, and I want to reassure you that your place as queen is one that is secure.”

She was too stunned to speak, and simply allowed herself to be pulled along, falling into step with him once more. His fingers did not release her wrist until they reached the doors to the Great Hall. Attendants waited outside, each holding a red velvet cushion with their respective crowns resting atop them. Aemond’s was the iron and ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, previously worn by his older brother. Hers was the golden angular circlet that Daemon had crowned her mother with – it had once sat atop her grandfather’s head. She had not worn it since their wedding day. She disliked how heavy it felt, certain it did not suit her as much as it had Rhaenyra, who was born to wear it.

As they descended the steps of the throne room, she briefly wondered where she would be placed - the Iron Throne loomed so large it would look ridiculous to place another chair next to it. Then she spotted it; the low cushioned stool placed at the foot of it. She was to sit at her husband’s feet while he held court, presented as a prized trophy. It was not the place of a queen, it was an outward display of the fact that she was regarded as lower in station to him, a means to publicly declare her as subservient. Her skin flushed scarlet with humiliation, she longed to turn and flee from the room, but Aemond placed a hand at the small of her back, urging her forward, misinterpreting her reaction.

“It’s alright,” he soothed quietly, “you will not be expected to say anything. It will cheer the people to see their queen.”

“Would it though?” she thought. The Crown had caused such destruction, she could not imagine the people they ruled over being pleased to see them at all.

Aemond took his place upon the throne, and she lowered herself onto the stool, her head level with his knee. She had to lean forward slightly to prevent the blades of the throne from digging into her back. It was uncomfortable, and she hoped there would be few people here to petition her uncle, so that they could get this over with.

The guards opened the doors, and slowly people were filed in, ushered inside by the kingsguard. Once they had gathered, they were invited one at a time to step forward and ask favours of the crown, to settle disputes, to seek permission. Most of it was incredibly dull, and she could feel her eyes growing heavy as people complained about stolen livestock, requested that the curfew in Fleabottom be lifted and reported that the City Watch was doing nothing to prevent thefts from market stalls across the city. Aemond listened to all with a brisk air of impatience, his answers curt and final.

A heavy set man with a closely cropped black beard stepped forward, his dark eyes filled with malice as he stared up at Aemond. “Your dragons destroyed my farm in the midst of the war,” he explained, gesticulating with clear agitation, “I demand to know what you will do to give me back my livelihood.”

Aemond clicked his tongue, utterly unruffled by the farmer’s displeasure. His voice was soft as silk as he replied: “many unfortunate sacrifices had to be made to protect the line of succession. It is important that we use our valuable time and resources to fortify the city, to replenish our weapon stocks and commence trade across the narrow sea once more. To rebuild we must focus on matters that are for the good of the entire realm, not just individuals.”

The man seethed, his nostrils flaring as he took a step forward, causing the entire kingsguard to grasp the hilts of their swords. “Was it the realm you thought about when you burned all of the Riverlands to ash?” he demanded, spittle flying from his mouth with the force of his thunderous shouting. “And what was it for? You have placed a bastard upon the throne alongside you anyway.”

Aemond leaned forward, his voice a serpentine hiss as he grasped the arms of the throne. “What did you say?”

The man hesitated slightly, a flicker of fear casting uncertainty in his eyes, before he pulled himself tall. “I said your queen is a bastard. A whore.”

Quicker than she could blink and register his movements, Aemond was out of the throne and off of the dais, a feline quality to the swiftness and fluidity with which he carried himself. He drew his sword and in one singular motion, sliced through the man’s neck. His body fell, heavy as a sack of grain to the stone floor, while his head rolled off to the side, stopping only when it thudded against the boot of one of the kingsguard. There were shocked gasps and shouts, people scrambling to get out of the throne room, while others pushed forward to get a closer look. She focused on none of it, looking only at the thick rivulets of blood that had begun to run between the cracks in the stones, flowing towards the dais. She had reflexively jerked backwards and now the blades of the throne poked her painfully in the back. She was too stunned to move away from it. Instead, she was brought back to the day when Vaemond had dared to insult her mother and suffered a similar fate at the hands of Daemon. She had never imagined such violence would ever be executed for her sake. Had Aemond really done that for her?

Gloved hands gripped the tops of both of her arms, and it was not until her feet touched the floor that she realised that two knights had lifted her from her seat. They crowded against her, shielding her from the view of the gore that lay strewn upon the floor, as if she had not already seen it, and escorted her back to the chambers she shared with Aemond.

Once the doors were closed, and she was alone, she realised how badly she was trembling. The room was quiet – too quiet – she could hear how heavily she breathed. And she could feel something – a dull cramping in her lower belly and a wetness between her thighs. How long had that been happening for while she was too stunned to notice?

A whine bubbled up from within her, anguished and animal-like as it tore its way out of her throat. Hastily, she rucked up her skirts, shoving her hand into her smallclothes, already knowing what she would see upon her fingers when she pulled them back up for inspection.

The blood glistened red and angry looking upon her skin. Her only thoughts as she looked hopelessly at it were “I want my mother.”

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[cherie-doll]

Cod men’s kids getting the t shirt that says “DILF devoted involved loving father” for father’s day/their birthdays

The men’s reaction?

DADDY'S HOME

=͟͟͞♡ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

:‹ Price would be surprised to find out that his kids bought him something at all. They're so young he expected to only be handed a handmade card that read "Happy Father's Day" in squiggly handwriting. He's so happy he doesn't even really read what the shirt says until he's looking at it closer. He likely doesn't even know what other meaning DILF has so he will proudly wear that shirt for a week STRAIGHT before one of the guys points it out. Then he's chuckling to himself thinking that you must've had some say in the picking of the gift.

:‹ Simon immediately lights up knowing his kids got him something, although he doesn't know how to show that excitement. His eyes zero in on the box being carried by his son while you and your daughter watch expectantly. He doesn't know how to act as he waits to be handed the gift and has to clear his throat multiple times in the meantime. He unboxes the gift and... his eyes widen. The kids can't grasp the reaction of their parents, Simon is rolling his eyes and you can't stop laughing. He loves it though, and now you must deal with him wearing it every time you go out as a family.

:‹ Johnny was so hyped to get home when he found out from you that the kids had something planned for him. He receives the shirt and is already acting all sappy saying crap like "awww, you didn't have to" and proudly holds it up to his chest and asks how it looks on him. You have to turn around to keep from laughing but assure him it looks great. Even once he sees what's written on the shirt he still thinks it's the best thing his little ones could have gifted him.

:‹ Kyle in front of the kids would simply act all blown away but once he turns the corner he's chasing you down asking if you had any say in this. "You gave them the idea, didn't you?" He can't believe you played this prank on him at the expense of the children's good intentions, how dare you??? (Not like he's made worse jokes using the kids as a shield from you). Overall, since it's from his little blessings he'll play his part of a loving father like the shirt says and wear it to their hearts' content.

:‹ Roach feels so touched that he's getting a gift. The poor guy might want to shed a tear when he sees how carefully wrapped and decorated the gift is. He can tell you let the kids decorate the giftbox because of the amount of stickers stuck all over it and the messily tied ribbon to top it all off. Of course his emotional reaction is interrupted when he sees what the shirt says. He reads the "DILF" part multiple times thinking he must be dyslexic but then you tell him to read the rest in small font. He resumes his crying.

:‹ Alejandro knows all too well something may be up. They are his kids after all, he taught them one too many tricks and it may be coming back to bite at him for doing so. Either way, he can't deny it makes his heart feel something when they so innocently hand the shirt over. At first, it doesn't even click until he, like the dad he is, looks up the shirt to see how much it was and in the search suggestions sees "dilf meaning"...

:‹ Rodolfo does not know anything about this. He just sees it as a beautiful gesture from his children and is so touched by it he's furrowing his eyebrows and squinting trying not to show his teary eyes. He hears the giggles and laughter the kids are trying to keep in. He gives you a look like, "what's going on?" and you just shrug your shoulders pretending not to know. You only have an inkling of what may be happening but you don't let on the possibility of what it could be. In the end they don't tell him what is really means.

:‹ Phillip found out what the kids were planning because they had used his online shopping account to buy the shirt so he got the notification. Still, to not ruin their excitement he pretended to be surprised for the camera being pointed at him to catch his reaction as he held up the shirt. His eyes find yours and he can't tell who the kids got their mischief from; you or him. But he loves this shirt so much he's wearing it every time you go out as a family.

:‹ Makarov is like old or just really out of the loop to not know what DILF actually means so he doesn't get why you're snickering so damn much. Are you mocking the adorable act of love his kids prepared for him? No of course you wouldn't, you'd have to explain to him and the kids would all have to go scurrying if they don't want to be caught by him. In truth, he cherishes this dumb shirt so much and will wear it under his suit when he's in a rush and forgets what he has on under.

:‹ Keegan thinks that compared to the gifts he's seen the kids get you, he should be at least given a gift card or something but they just handed him a shirt not even wrapped up or anything. He shrugs it off and is so confused on why you keep telling him if he's gotten it yet, gotten what? Is there a joke he isn't understanding? Even after you try to explain it to him he's like.. "yeah... so I've been a dilf all these years.. devoted involved lov- oh". Then he swears it's one of the most clever and best gift he's ever gotten.

:‹ König would look so good in one of those shirts it would make you go feral for that man because he is a DILF through and through. The kids bought it for him because he truly is a devoted to raising them, involved in all of their activities and loves them more than anything in this world. To you, he is also the 'other' definition of DILF. His innocent reaction has you biting your lip back to keep from laughing for he's too precious, and frankly you don't want to ruin that for him with your thoughts.

:‹ Horangi is holding onto that title and NOT LETTING IT GO. The kids are clinging to his side eager to see his reaction while you walk forward with the box in hand. (Btw, you look absolutely angelic in Horangi's vision right now, like this exact scenario with his kids around him and you coming to him, smiling and everything. God, he's all starry-eyed in this moment.) He picks up on the mischievous little smiles his kids give one another and half expects for something to pop out and scare him the moment he opens the box. He stares confused at the shirt for a moment before he bursts out laughing. He's wearing that everywhere with sunglasses on.

:‹ Nikto would just nod and say thanks for the shirt so his kids automatically assume he didn't like it but you can tell he loves it. Finally all that hard work of waking up late at night to change diapers and helping them with their math homework paid off, right? He's just thankful they thought of giving him something, even if it's a lame shirt. He will wear it every weekend when the kids are around the most so that they see him clearly loving his gift. Doesn't care if you laugh because he doesn't mind being the cause of your amusement.

[nogutsnogloria]

summary: jack has baby fever. that it. that’s the tweet

jack abbot x nurse reader

warnings: hospital setting, talks of injury, talks of children, jack down bad, suggestive language, milf and dilfs in training

your night hadn’t been anything special at work just the standard trying to get beds cleared up, that was until a mother walks in with her three year old and a 10 day old baby. her three year old had fallen out of his bed and bumped his head in the middle of the night. the mother looked so exhausted and there was no dad in sight.

you slide open the curtain to get a bit of history, administer some children’s tylenol and take the toddlers vitals. talking to the mom you find out the new baby was born over a video call as her husband was deployed right now and couldn’t get home, she had clearly been running on fumes, she has help usually during the day but at night is when it’s really hard for her. ellis comes in to assess and decides that a ct should be ordered just in case. the mom is clearly torn about being with her toddler and her new baby. you take a look down at the baby sleeping in the car seat and before you can even think about it your offering. “i can watch her so you can be with him?” the mom thinks about it before she’s nodding with a “sure”

you take the car seat back to the nurses station and put it down on the desk next to you, and get to work on some charting. the baby starts to squawk letting you know she’s not pleased with something so you don’t hesitate to unbuckle her from the car seat and pick her up to soothe her, she settles falling asleep on your chest so you get back to work. you don’t feel his eyes on you while you do.

ellis and walsh come up to the nurses station. “girl your exploding ovaries over here” ellis says. “yeah especially abbot’s” walsh jokes. you look up at her with a roll of your eyes “yeah, right. it’s not me it’s the baby. she’s so good for a newborn.” and give her a shake of your head. “he has not taken his eyes off of you since you took her out of her carrier” you turn around and chance a look at your husband, and annoyingly the girls were right. he’s looking at you with something extra in his eye. not even looking away while he’s talking to shen about something. you give him a little smile letting him know that you caught him staring again.

everyone leaves you to work with your little assistant still sleeping on your chest. her mom and brother should be back from radiology soon, but not before jack comes over. he’s looking down at you from where he’s standing. “that looks, insanely good on you” you blush at him. “oh yeah? scale of 1 to 10, 10 being that red dress you like so much?” you just started the discussions of having kids of your own, both deciding that the time was right, just needing the biology of it all to be in your favour. he sticks his tongue in his cheek to stop the smile he wants to give you. shaking his head with it.

you notice the toddler and his mom are being wheeled back to the exam room. “i should check if they need anything” jack stops you before you get up. “no you stay i’ve got it”

he walks in and checks in with the mom, she says they’re all good but stops him before he leaves. “who would i talk to about giving our nurse recognition? she made my life so much easier tonight, not by just taking my baby so i could be with him, but she let me vent and ramble about my life and made me feel like i mattered. even though we are in the emergency room this is the most my mind has been at ease in two weeks, and now she’s taking good care of my baby out there, i think if there is anything i can do that can get her something i want to do it.” jack looks out at where you are, now standing and bouncing with the baby. “i can make sure she’s taken care of, we have some peer recognition systems in place. if you want there are patient satisfaction surveys online at the hospital website as well” he turns back to the mom with a nod. “your results should be in soon. just ring the bell if you need anything.”

results come back in and it is just a bump on the little boys head so you’re getting discharge papers all ready and buckling the little girl back into her car seat for her mom, making sure her hat is on and the blanket is tucked around her so that she doesn’t get a chill when they step out into the brisk early morning. your heading to the room with your hands a bit full so jack stops to grab the car seat out of your hands, and you won’t lie watching him carry that is doing something for you, but you have to keep it professional so you head in with the usual “if any thing changes come back to see us” your turning to the little boy “hey buddy do you want a sticker? i have dinosaurs and trucks. he nods and chooses his sticker. “can my sister have one too?” you smile at him “of course why don’t you pick one for her and keep it safe” the mom stands and gets her crew ready to go. “thank you for taking such good care of us” she grabs your hand and gives it a little squeeze. “it is no problem at all. i hope you can get a bit of sleep tonight.” with that she’s heading out the door heading home.

jack turns to you. “you really have to stop that you know” you look at him confused. “stop what?” he looks down in your eyes. “having all that compassion, you’re making the rest of us look bad. that mom all but handed me your next recognition award when i went in to see her” you blush and grumble a bit “seriously i’m just doing my job” he tucks a strand of hair out of your eyes. “i know you are, but you’re really good at it, just like you were really good with that baby.” he couldn’t not bring it up. you smile a bit shyly at him. “jack abbot do you have baby fever?” he laughs at that. “yes, actually i do. really bad. ever since you agreed to have one it’s all i can think about, shifts over in half an hour, lets see what we can do to break the fever” you smack his chest and roll your eyes. “meet you at the desk in thirty and then you are taking me home, i’ll see what i can do about that fever.”

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 04: KANG TAEHYUN

⋆·˚ ༘ * He fixes, he folds, and he fucks like he’s determined to show you just how much he cares. You want nothing more than to return the favor, be the one who takes care of him for once. But Taehyun can't imagine not being of service to you.

✦ Love Language: Acts of Service

pairing: taehyun x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 3.3k

warnings: f!reader, smut, domestic tension, switch but mostly dom!taehyun, kitchen sex, service kink, oral f!receiving, no protection

🗂️ click here to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

Taehyun never said I love you like a normal person.

He said it through tasks, timing, and attention. Always quietly folding the world around you so you never had to ask for anything. And you’d let him.

Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d lifted a finger in his presence. You were independent when you met him—fiercely so. The kind of person who didn’t trust anyone to do things as well as you could, let alone take care of you. But Taehyun had a way of gently dismantling those walls, brick by quiet brick, until your hands were empty and your burdens shared.

There were meals cooked after long days where you both came home tired and frayed, only he wouldn’t let you touch the stove. Instead, he’d kiss your forehead and force you to sit pretty on the counter so he had a nice view while he worked. And when you were done eating? You wouldn’t dare attempt to help clean up. Not unless you wanted your hands swatted away and Taehyun sprinting upstairs to run you a bath, insisting you “go soak and relax, baby, I’ll join you soon.”

You’d never forget coming home from that terrible day, still raw from an argument with your best friend, and finding the apartment spotless, your clothes folded neatly on the bed, and a bottle of wine breathing on the counter beside your favorite takeout. No questions asked.

You couldn’t even recall the last time you carried your own purse. Traveling? He always found a way to juggle both suitcases without complaint, leaving your hands completely free.

And it wasn’t just the grand gestures. It was in the subtleties. The way his eyes always flicked toward you, searching for anything you might need. How he’d bring you water without being asked. Fix a squeaky cabinet at one in the morning because it annoyed you once. Rearranged his already busy schedule for yours, because stress on your shoulders was unbearable to him.

Not to mention in bed. God, the pillow princess he’d turned you into. Taehyun was as eager to please as he was allergic to being on the receiving end. The concept of letting you take care of him was laughable, sacrilegious, even. He never let you, not once. As if your love was something he didn’t need to feel. Only something he was born to give.

He never asked or expected. He only gave, and gave, and gave. But tonight, you decided to try anyway.

There he was now, creeping into the kitchen to make you a snack because he’d heard your stomach rumble while the two of you curled up in bed mid-movie. When you reached for him, questioning why he paused the TV, he only smiled softly, kissed your temple, and slipped out from under the covers.

For a moment, you lay in the dark listening: the clinking of metal, the click of the stove, the crinkle of packaging. Soon, the savory scent of your favorite instant ramen drifted down the hallway. It pulled you from bed like a thread tied to your chest. And the moment you step into the kitchen, your heart nearly stops.

He’s shirtless, facing away from you as he stirs the pot. The warm overhead light carves golden lines down his back. His shoulder blades shifting with every movement. Sweatpants hang low on his narrow hips, the waistband tugging slightly down on one side. He’s completely unaware of how devastating he looks, and that only makes it worse.

You swallow, mouth watering—and not just because of the ramen.

A few more steps forward and you're wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. Taehyun jumps, slightly startled, then relaxes into your touch with a smile. He sets the chopsticks aside and folds his arms over yours in a welcoming gesture.

"Hi baby," he hums with contentment.

"Hi," you smile into his skin, cheek pressed to the expanse of his back. "Smells good." A soft sigh leaves your lips, warm breath brushing his bare shoulder.

Goosebumps rise across his skin. He can feel the shape of you—your nipples faintly brushing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, your hips pressing gently to his. He knows without looking that you’re wearing nothing underneath but panties.

Still, he doesn’t move. He lets you hold him. But you? You’re already planning to do more than hold.

Your arms tighten, lips beginning to brush his back. You feel the tremor that runs through him, the tension pooling just beneath his skin. And still, he doesn’t pull away.

You trail your fingers along the firm plane of his stomach carefully, until your palms rest flat over the waistband of his sweats. You don’t dip beneath just yet, instead holding him there like he’s yours to touch.

He draws a controlled breath through his nose. “Baby…” he warns gently, voice catching in his throat.

“I know,” you whisper. “Just... let me.”

You turn him around by the hips, and Taehyun allows it, chest rising now with more visible effort. He leans back slightly against the counter perpendicular to the stove, arms going loose at his sides like he’s trying to prove something to himself and to you. But his eyes are already dark, focused on your mouth intently.

You press a kiss to his sternum. He gulps hard. Another kiss to the edge of his collarbone. And then, finally, you tilt your face up and catch his mouth with yours.

It starts sweet, nothing but melted sugar and warmth. His lips move slowly, savoring the feeling as he holds himself back.

But then your hands slip to the sides of his neck, pulling him deeper, angling his head how you want him. Your tongue drags against his with hot need. You kiss like you’ve forgotten what patience even means.

Taehyun moans softly against your lips, involuntarily. You feel his knees bend slightly, as if his whole body wants to follow yours.

You pull back, just enough to murmur, “Sit for me.”

Before he can question it, you gently push him toward the chair at the kitchen table.

He stumbles back a step and halts. His brows twitch with uncertainty. You watch the flicker in his expression: a flash of confusion and resistance. He’s never been the one sitting like this. He doesn’t really know how.

But you step forward, crowding him slowly, guiding him with your hands on his waist like you’re offering him something for once instead of taking. The backs of his legs hit the chair.

You don’t force him down, you just press lightly. He lets out a breath and finally sits.

For a second, Taehyun looks bewitched by you in the most gorgeous way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling too fast, mouth pink and kiss-bitten. His hands clutch the edge of the seat like it’s anchoring him to the earth. Because he really might float away if he doesn’t hold on.

You climb into his lap with reverence, legs folding around him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders. His skin is flushed. His cock presses hard against you through the thin fabric of his sweats, and the friction alone has him sighing like he’s seconds from losing composure.

You kiss him again, filthier this time. Your hips roll forward, just enough to force a strangled noise from him.

“Let me take care of you for once,” you whisper into his mouth.

Your hand snakes its way down Taehyun’s abdomen. He’s so tense it’s almost laughable. He’s fighting within himself, wanting so bad to give in. But it felt unnatural.

“Baby… you don’t have to.”

His eyes are wired shut when he speaks. You don’t even grace him with a response. He sits there, feeling useless, feeling you place your lips in all the right places across his neck and jaw, fingers finding their way to cutely snake into his sweatpants.

But all he can think about is how you’re probably soaked under those panties. How you must be clenching around nothing, begging to be touched. You must want to be cared for, and oh how he wanted it to be him doing it. Suddenly, he can’t get the idea of you whining and cumming at his manipulation out of his mind.

That’s when the panic sets it.

Taehyun huffs, a sharp and frustrated sound that floods your ears, before gripping your waist so suddenly it makes you yelp. His eyes snap open, blown wide with want. So much want it nearly breaks you.

“I can’t,” he says hoarsely. “You don’t get it—I can’t.”

He lifts you with too much ease, standing abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Your legs tighten around him out of instinct. He presses your back to the kitchen table, firm but not rough, breathing hard. His forehead falls against yours.

“I’ll lose my mind if I don’t touch you the way I need to.” His voice is a growl now, trembling with restraint. “You don’t get to make me feel good and expect me to just sit here. That’s not how this works. That’s never been how this works.”

You see it all over him—how badly he wants the pleasure you’re offering, and how violently it clashes with the way he’s wired to love. It’s sexy, yes, but it’s also so deeply revealing you feel it split something open inside you. It's not that he doesn't want it. It's that he simply can't compute it.

His hands roam. One cups your jaw, the other sliding beneath your thighs. He’s already rolling his hips into you, chasing friction like it’s air.

“You’re not supposed to take care of me,” he hisses against your neck. “That’s not—what I’m made for.”

You gasp as his mouth finds the edge of your collarbone, biting gently. His grip on your waist tightens, and just like that, the control is back in his hands.

He rises slightly, pushing your shirt up over your chest to see all of you. Nipples flushed pink and hard with need, black underwear that he picked out already soaked and hugging the outline of your folds. He stares unashamedly like he always does. His hands are rough, tracing you from your ribs to your thighs as if reacquainting himself with your body.

"If I stop giving... and I let you give, it’s like I’ve failed you," he mutters, eyes glazed over with lustful thoughts of you.

While he's too busy eye-fucking you, you take your chance. You sit up slightly, just enough to reach for his cheek, grazing it softly.

“You haven’t failed anything. You love me so well. Let me love you back.” You attempt to bargain.

You rise further, closing the gap between you with a slow kiss, your legs looping around his waist to tug him closer, ankles locked. But he catches your wrist mid-motion, grinning softly, already seeing through your plan. Of course you’d try to flip the script.

But he can't take it anymore, not with your bodies this close. The food sizzles on the stove, but he doesn't care. His desire to serve takes over.

He scoops your thighs into his arms and drags you to the edge of the table, then drops to his knees. Your legs fall open over his shoulders. A breathy moan slips from his lips as he drinks in the new view—now eye level with your dripping cunt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I need to. Please—just let me.”

Your soaked panties cling to you obscenely, a clear outline of want pressed against black lace. He hums low in his chest, the sound nearly guttural.

Taehyun presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, this one open-mouthed and wet, teeth grazing just enough to make you mewl. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs to anchor himself.

He moans just from the scent of you. “Fuck." His voice is muffled, lost in the heat between your legs. “So wet.”

“Oh my god-“ You gasp as his tongue presses flat against the soaked crotch of your panties. Taehyun doesn't bother pulling them aside. No, that would be too simple. He’s decided you’re getting ruined like this: his mouth taking you through the fabric, letting every flick of his tongue sink through cotton and lace to where you need him most, and it works.

Your hips are arching up into him. But he’s relentless, hands sliding up to hold you still, palms splayed across your chest.

“Stay still,” his voice vibrated against you. “Let me do this right.”

He licks you long and slow, savoring the way your arousal has soaked through and made the panties cling to you like a second skin. Every pass of his tongue has your thighs trembling, your hands reaching blindly for something to hold.

You fist his hair. Taehyun groans—really groans—like your fingers pulling at his scalp could make him cum untouched. He presses his face deeper between your legs, nuzzling the soaked fabric as if inhaling you could give him life.

His tongue finds your clit. Even through the damp cotton, it sends a bolt of pleasure tearing through your spine. Your back arches and a cry escapes you. He hums again, pleased, adjusting the angle so he can suck gently, just enough pressure to make your vision blur.

“That’s it, baby,” he inhales deeply. “Give it to me. Let me have all of it.” He exhales just as deeply.

You don’t know if he’s talking about your moans, your pussy, your entire fucking soul, but you let him have it. Maybe this was your way of giving to him.

Taehyun keeps eating, savoring, and drinking you in through the delicate fabric until it's useless and he’s so hard in his sweatpants he could cry. One of his hands leaves your hip to slip between his legs, palming himself through the fabric just for a second, just enough to breathe again.

Then his mouth drags lower, tongue teasing the spot just beneath your entrance through the sheer fabric before returning to your clit. You're writhing now, moaning like a confession, your thighs trying to close in around his head but he won’t let them.

“You're almost there, aren't you?” His voice is noticeably ruined. “Cum for me. I want to feel you shake on my tongue.”

He licks harder, and you shatter.

Your orgasm hits like a wave. Crashing and sweeping through your entire body until your hands fall from his hair and you’re barely able to breathe, whimpering his name over and over.

Still, he doesn’t stop, not until your hips twitch from overstimulation and your whines turn into helpless little pleas for him to end it. Only then does he pull back, panting, chin glistening, and your panties practically glued to you.

He looks up at you like he’s blessed. This is the only thing he’s ever prayed to.

“Better?” he asks, voice hoarse, lips curled into the faintest, self-satisfied smirk.

You're so busy coming down from your orgasm, about to respond, that you don’t even realize he’s stripped you. Your soaked panties gone along with his boxers and sweatpants, discarded somewhere on the kitchen table.

When you glance down, he’s already between your thighs again, his cock hard against your leg. You’re still catching your breath, body trembling from your orgasm, but his hands are already moving.

He lifts one leg, then the other, hooking the backs of your knees over the crooks of his elbows like he's done plenty of times before. His chest brushes yours, folding you in half on the table, breath warm against your skin as he lines himself up.

“Let me give you more,” he murmurs, every syllable soaking with need. “Let me stay inside you until you forget your own name.”

Then he’s pushing in devastatingly deep. Your breath stutters, your head tilting back as he sinks you down onto him inch by inch. His grip tightens around your thighs, holding you to him while your body opens for him completely.

You can feel every inch of Taehyun. But it’s not just the fullness that makes you a whimpering mess, it’s the way he’s holding you there, pinned to the surface.

“Fuck,” Taehyun exhales, eyes fluttering shut. “You feel—Jesus.”

Your hands reach to grip his neck as he starts to move. Each thrust is so expertly precise. The slow drag out, the firmer press in. His rhythm is just right, but his breath is ragged. You cling to the edge of the table and to him, legs still lifted, knees trembling slightly where they’re slung over his arms.

Taehyun's hands grip your body in a way they've never held you before. And he groans every time he bottoms out inside you.

The kitchen is filled with the slick, inappropriate sound of him moving inside you. The quiet hiss of the stove behind you both now forgotten, noodles cooking past perfect. The smell of ramen and sex drifts through the air.

“Taehyun!” you gasp, head tipping back. This is his favorite view of you.

“Yeah?” he pants, not stopping once. “Say it again.”

You do. Over and over. Not just his name, but everything. What he feels like, how he fucks you, how he makes you feel like no one else ever has. You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. Only that it pours out of you in moans and broken whines.

You feel it building again, this time too fast and way too strong. Your body tenses around him.

He must feel it too, because he drops your legs from his elbows and folds you close, hips never faltering as he hooks his arms around your waist and lifts you clean off the table. You gasp in surprise, clutching his shoulders.

Now it’s chest to chest, his forehead against yours, your legs wrapped tight around his hips. Your nails score his back as he fucks you suspended in the air.

“Come on, baby,” he pleads, voice cracked as he slams you down onto his cock. “Give it to me one more time.”

You shatter for the second time in your little kitchen. This one rips through you harder than before. You cry out, whole body shaking and convulsing around him, just the way he likes.

“Fuckfuckfuck—fuck,” he hisses, every muscle in his body going rigid as he drives into you one last time and cums harder than ever. His hips falter, then still as he pushes in as deep as possible, moaning into your mouth as he buries himself to the hilt.

Silence slowly follows. Beautiful, comfortable silence.

Taehyun doesn’t pull out of you right away. He lowers both of you down slowly, your back landing softly against the now-cleared table. His cheek rests against your thigh, damp with sweat, lips parted as he catches his breath. His arms are still around your waist. You brush a hand through his hair, looking down at him.

“One day, I’ll make you let me take care of you.” You can't help but smile.

He half-laughs and murmurs back, “I'll die trying to stop you.”

You feel the slight ache in his words. Because behind them, you worry Taehyun thinks he’s unworthy of being taken care of by you. That’s the part that guts you.

You sit up just slightly, shifting your weight until you're able to reach the stove. The ramen is still there, now slightly burnt at the edges, thick with overcooked noodles. Laughing quietly, you dish some into a bowl, scooping a bite with your chopsticks and blowing to cool it down. When you turn back and offer it to him, he almost hesitates.

But eventually Taehyun lets you. He opens his mouth, and you feed him. He chews, swallows, then drops his forehead into your neck with a sigh so deep as he relaxes into your warmth.

This is the kind of peace he’s never allowed himself. But tonight, just for a moment, he does for you.

tags: @bunnysoonie @zznblr @another-lemon-tree @gyudollies @beomgyusluver @dawngyu @boba-beom @taebatu @simpforseoho @beestvng @yyeonbinn @chubichubs @jooyeonsvape @txt-thelmi @zorange13 @jellyyjn @frenziedpiratetrap @gardnhee @txtsdoll @annovaz @morguebounddoll @melmochii @yunhorights @saccharinezennie @gyutaepie @313hwa @tyuncloudreamy @ijustwannareadstuff20 @bamtor1sss @iyoonjh

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated <3

[gojos-version]

Third times the charm!

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x reader

Summary: The three times he almost kissed you.

Warnings: None! Pure fluff :3

Word count: 2.5k <3

Proof read: Yes!

A/n: sorry for the very slow updates! I swear I’ve been writing just too busy to finish anything 😔 I’ve started work and it’s so hard to manage my time but I’ve been trying to let you guys know I’m active still by reblogging stuff !! Anyways I really hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it, have a lovely day beautifuls <3

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

First year jujutsu high 2006

Apparently, there were supposed to be three other first years in your class besides yourself. You moved here hoping to understand and control your technique more but... you can’t lie to yourself that you wouldn't mind making friends who are also a part of the Jujutsu world. To convince yourself you're not weird or crazy. Thats what you tell yourself anyway. What if you don’t get along with any of them?

You swallow the lump in your throat and open the door to your room; pushing that thought aside for now. It was a decent size so you could fit plenty of stuff. Pretty generous you note.

As you’re folding your clothes and putting them in your drawer a knock! Sounds at your door, “Come in!” You yell out and the door opens almost hesitantly, a very tall boy who looks around the same age as yourself pokes his head into your room. He had white hair, bright blue eyes and you really have to bite your lip when a mental image of a dandelion flashes in your head after seeing his hair. He really needs to grow his hair out.

For a few seconds he just blinks at you with his mouth agape and you awkwardly just keep folding your clothes, “So.. what’s your name?” You decide to break the silence. Seemingly he comes out of his trance with a slight pink blush adorning his adorable cheeks, “S-satoru Gojo! I wanted to see whose room was next to mine..” He rubs the back of his neck making a smile tug at your lips in response.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Gojo. I’m Y/N. I hope we can get along.” You bear in mind how his cheeks flush even more and he stammers out a “Me too! It’s nice to meet you too!” Before he runs off with his ears hot, shutting your door a bit too hard.

You giggle softly at that and continue putting everything away.

~Months later~

“Hey! Wake upppp!! C'mon! We’re supposed to go to the movies today!” A loud voice accompanied by hands shaking you awake was the first thing that greeted you when you left your dream. You let out a grunt in acknowledgment and slowly blink your eyes open to see a very ecstatic Satoru looking down at you with Suguru next to you on your other side and Shoko behind Satoru smiling down at you.

“Heeeeyyyyy!!! Get uppp!! He-“ Satorus obnoxiously loud whines were muffled by you throwing your pillow at him, sitting up and rubbing your tired eyes. “Stop yelling.”, “Morning sunshine, it’s 9 in the morning.” Shoko coos, “Too early.” You grumble as you twist your body to the side and get up; moving around Satorus pouting figure.

“You didn’t have to throw your pillow at me.” “You’re too loud. It’s not even ten in the morning.” You sigh, getting your uniform out and putting it over your arm. “I’ll be like 5 minutes, and then we can go.” After a couple of whines from Satoru and scolding from Suguru, they all leave your room with Shoko giving you an empathetic smile.

You didn’t expect to wake up to Satorus face this morning. Your stomach flutters and a blush tingling your cheeks. Gosh get a grip of yourself. His hairs slightly growing out, but he still looks a lot like a dandelion. If anything, it’s grown half a centimeter.

You get changed and walk out to the kitchen area, sighing in relief when Shoko notices you while holding a cup of coffee for you. “My savior!” You cry out and drink it as fast as you can.

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Satoru chants as he speed runs out the door. “I’m ready now, I hope the movies going to be good”, “Mm me too.” Suguru replies with a soft smile then a yell at Satoru to slow down and stop running off without the rest of you.

-

“You forgot the caramel in the popcorn! This is criminal! You should be arrested! It tastes so bad now! It's flavorless!” Satorus whining and complaints filed the theatre, with Suguru and Shoko just ignoring him. “It’ll be fine. You’re a big strong man, aren’t you? You can get caramel next time.” You try to half? Reassure him and focus back on the movie.

He lets out a loud grunt and slides down his chair with a string of more grumbles under his breath. You almost want to slap his exposed forehead.

-

“This kukifuku has to be the best I’ve EVER tasted! Y/N! I’ll be generous and offer you a bite. Try some!” He pushes his half eaten kukifuku your direction making you freeze for a second. Would this be like a..indirect kiss..?

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

“S-sure.” You voice wavers a bit and you take in his big smile. You swallow nervously and open your mouth to take a bite. Suck it up. You can do it. He probably doesn’t even mean it like that. Your teeth sink into the soft desert. He bit there a second ago. Fuck. Your eyes flit up to make eye contact with his and it’s like time stops for a second. His smile twitches and falls as if he just caught on. His eyes widening and cheeks flaring up with heat.

You pull away and chew the soft kukifuku, its flavour dancing along your tastebuds. “Tastes really good, dandelion. You were right.” You hum, you freeze when you hear not one but two laughs. Oh god. Did they see that??

“No way you guys just did an indirect kiss! Oh my god! This is gold!” Shoko wheezes out, “Gojo didn’t even know it was one I bet! Holy shit we need this recorded down! Quick! Write it down with the time!” Suguru laughs as they tease you and the very quiet dandelion besides you. Your eyes flit to Satoru and you notice how he looks like he’s two seconds away from exploding on the spot.

You’re not any better.

Definitely not.

Your heart feels like it’s going to thump out of your chest and take a walk. The both of you stay silent and flustered till the others pick up on it, “...Yo are you two good? We’re just teasing you guys.” Suguru takes a few steps forward as if discovering a new species. “I think we broke them, Geto.” Shoko sighs and with that she calls Nanami and Haibara.

You have no clue how long you’ve been standing there. Neither does Satoru.

That was the day you realised if.. you did kiss him. Maybe you wouldn’t mind.

He still looked like a dandelion though.

You sit in your dorm room reading a book you brought today, trying your best to focus on the words and not let your mind wonder to what happened earlier. A soft knock pulls you out of your thoughts. “Come in.” With that a set of white hair softly pads into your room. “Can I please sit?” He says quietly. He’s never quiet. Nervously you nod your head and he sits on the edge of your bed; next to you.

“I’m..sorry about today. I didn’t think of it like..that. I wanted to offer you some because you said you never tried it before.. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” “It’s okay, Dandelion . I didn’t think of it like that either. It’s all good.” You smile, swallowing down the feelings threatening to burst out. His cheeks flared up a deeper red hue at the nickname. Funny, he said he hated it. “But..if you wanted it to be like that..I wouldn’t mind.”

Huh.

Did he just..?

Heat decorates your cheeks and flush up your neck, “Maybe I did. If you wanted it to.” Then it was his turn to be flustered, heat crawling up his neck and ears, “Maybe..i want it to be like that now. That we're alone.” He responds, half lidded eyes flitting down to your lips. His hand slowly comes up to cup your cheek and you press a kiss next to his lips; making his lips chase yours.

Before his lips can seal yours you mumble out, “You really look like a dandelion.” He blinks at you before he bursts out laughing and you join him. “I’m sorry! I ruined the moment! I didn’t mean to- I was nervous, and it just came out!” You stammer out and he laughs, really laughs with a red tinge coating face.

He looked so.. pretty.

Second year, 2007.

Satoru grew. A lot. His hairs grown out now, so you have to stop calling him a dandelion, not to mention he’s got some..muscles now. His face accompanied by his circle sunglasses and his signature grin. The two of you haven’t exactly been..dating? You’re both aware of each other's feelings. You think. Just...nothing's happened. Besides flustered glances, lingering touches here and there you’ve been too busy to even focus on pushing it further; stuck with controlling your cursed techniques and going on missions.

Today was finally a day off. Well, only for you and Satoru, alone time if you will. Your soft footsteps padder towards the kitchen, pouring yourself a coffee and pondering on what you should do today on your day off. “We should go shopping today. ‘Ts been a while.” Satorus deep voice rings out behind you and you jump making him laugh, “Sure. I need to, I’ve grown out of most of my clothes.” You sigh. You haven’t had the time to go shopping for months.

-

“Come! Let’s check out this hot potato shop!” Satorus hand grabs yours and drags you towards the food stalls, almost making you face plant into him. “You didn’t even give me a choice- Satoru-! Slow down!” You stumble, weaving past people yelling out apologies as he drags you like a dog running off with a rope. Finally, he stops and you clutch his arm panting, trying to catch your breath and he excitedly orders whatever hot pot potato he wants. “What do you want?”, “Uh- can you order for me? Surprise me.” You say, half regretting your decision already. Finally, you get your food and sit down at a bench outside, a blossom tree surrounding the both of you.

Satoru places yours and his shopping bags on the ground next to him, you do the same with the one bag you were holding thanks to Satoru insisting on carrying yours for you. “Mmm this is so good! Have you tried yours yet??” Satoru hums, "Not yet, I'm about to." Gosh he looks like he’s in heaven eating it. You take a bite for yourself and the flavor and sensations zap all over your tongue and mouth making you hum out in pleasure, your tastebuds melting.

You both make light conversation as you finish off your meals, blossoms swirling around the both of you like a romance anime. You notice Satoru has some food next to his lips, silently as he talks you grab a napkin and wipe it off for him making him stop mid conversation. “Sorry, you had something there.” Then you look up in his eyes and time stops. It’s just you and him in the entire world, no curses, no death constantly, just you and him. No one else exists. Just the two of you. No strongest. Just your Satoru.

His eyes flit down to your soft, plump lips, his hand reaching out to thumb your bottom lip. “You're so pretty.” He says softly, leaning towards you; his breath fanning your lips. Your hands snake up to his hair, playing with it softly as your eyes flutter shut and you lean in, waiting for his lips to connect with yours. Just before your lips meet, Satoru's phone goes off making you jump apart as he answers his phone.

He smelt sweet. You wondered if he tasted sweeter.

2008 Jujutsu high graduation.

“Cmon! Get closer together! Yep! Perfect! Okay, smile!” The camera man shouts, you’re next to Satoru and Shoko. It felt a bit...hollow that Suguru wasn’t there. Satoru snakes an arm around your waist silently, pulling you subtly closer to him as if he read your mind.

You all smile as the photo flashes with a click! And just like that..graduation was over. At least you had photos to hold the memory.

Still..you and Satoru have been too busy to make it official. Riko.. Suguru.. Haibara.. too much. Though you still loved Satoru with your entire being. That never wavered or changed.

You wanted him to kiss you and make you his officially more than anything. You have for two years now. But..patience makes it worth it right..?

You swallow the frog in your throat and excuse yourself, wanting to be alone. To breathe.

You sit under the tree you all used to relax at a lot. Knees to your chest as your thoughts run wild.

Maybe Satoru.. didn’t want you? Or he didn’t know how to express it..? Doubts filled your mind making you curl into yourself more.

“Hey.” You’d recognise that sweet voice anywhere. The soft voice Satoru used on you. Only you. That honeyed sweet voice that could make you fold in less than a second. He was dangerous. You don’t make any effort to lift your head up. You just stay as you are, too tired to do anything.

You feel him sit next to you, his body heat radiating onto your side. He puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in circular motions. “..Sweetheart?” You hate how that nickname sends goosebumps across your entire body.

“Talk to me.”, “What are we Satoru? It’s been 2 years. This year will be the third year.” It’s silent for three seconds. Or more. “..I thought we were dating all this time..” With that your head whips up and your mouth agape, “Huh?!”

Satoru blinks at you, “We..weren’t?”, “Y-you never even asked me to be your girlfriend under a sunset! Or stars! We haven’t even had a first kiss! Have we even-!” You ramble on; you miss the lovestruck gaze he gave you. Wordlessly Satoru shuffles in front of you, eye level with you and cupping your face with both of his hands. His bright blue eyes stare into yours, making a flush rise to your cheeks and ears.

“I’m sorry. I’m not that good with emotions or words but.. when you kissed my cheek in first year I kind of.. thought we were dating? Because no one’s ever done that to me let alone ever seen me like that. That’s why I assumed we were dating- I didn’t say anything because well- it’s embarrassing but you’re my first! I’ve never loved anyone and-“ You cut his rambling off with a soft peck to the corner of his mouth making a stuttered gasp escape him.

“You stupid boy. I love you so much. I’ve always been yours.” With that he presses his lips against yours, sealing the both of you together; sealing your affection. He deepens the kiss making a breathy gasp leave your lips; which he greedily swallows up.

He maps your mouth out with his tongue pinning yours before he pulls away with his chest heaving.

Yeah. He tasted sweeter.

“Third times the charm.” He grins against you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “More like three years.” But he wasn’t wrong, after all they do say third time’s the charm and in this instance it really was.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Masterlist<3

Au Masterlist<3

Taglist!

@fictionaldreamerauthor

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hii could u write sieun x fem!reader angst where she's jealous cause of yeong Yi ? <33

What She Was

Pairing: Park Si-eun x Fem!Reader Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort (light dw im not that mean ❤️), Unspoken Love Word count: ~500

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

Y/N doesn’t hate Yeong-yi.

She really doesn’t.

She’s smart, kind, pretty in that effortless way that makes people fold around her like paper. She’s everything a person should be.

Which is exactly the problem.

Yeong-yi laughs at something Si-eun says something quiet, something soft and Y/N watches the way he looks at her. The slight curve of his mouth, the twitch of a dimple he usually keeps guarded. He doesn’t smile much, but when he does, it's real. He gives it to Yeong-yi without hesitation.

Not to her.

Y/N looks away, teeth clenched so tight her jaw aches. She forces herself to smile when Si-eun glances over, waves him off when he asks if she’s okay.

“I’m fine.”

A lie.

It’s not even that Yeong-yi likes him. It’s not clear. She’s always around, but in that natural, friendly way girls like her can afford to be without consequences. She doesn’t have to want him for Y/N to be jealous. It’s the fact that Si-eun lets her close.

Y/N had to fight tooth and nail for Si-eun’s trust. Had to crawl through his walls, slowly, carefully, so he wouldn’t shut her out again. She learned to read his silences like scripture, earned his sighs and his soft glances like they were medals.

And Yeong-yi just… shows up. And he smiles.

It’s not fair.

—

“Why’re you being weird?”

Si-eun finds her in the stairwell after school, where she thinks no one will bother her. He always finds her, though. Quiet footsteps, expression unreadable.

Y/N shrugs, not looking at him. “I’m not.”

“You’re lying.”

He says it simply. Not accusing. Just stating a fact.

That makes it worse.

She presses her lips together, blinking hard at the graffiti scratched into the stairwell wall. She doesn’t want to cry over this. It’s stupid. She knows it’s stupid.

“Why do you like her so much?”

The words fall out. Ugly. Bare.

Si-eun stills. “What?”

“Yeong-yi,” she bites out. “You always sit next to her. You talk to her more than me lately. You smile at her. A lot.”

He’s silent for a long time.

And that silence is worse than any answer.

“…I didn’t know it bothered you,” he says eventually, voice low.

Y/N laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You didn’t notice anything, did you? I’m always right there, and you never” She cuts herself off, shaking her head.

“You only ever see me when I’m quiet. When I shut up. But when she’s loud and laughing, you look at her.”

Her voice cracks. That’s when she knows she’s lost.

Si-eun shifts on his feet. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Yeah, well. You did.” She wipes her face with the back of her hand. “And maybe it’s not your fault. She’s everything I’m not. She’s bright and easy to like. You don’t have to figure her out.”

Silence again.

And then

“I didn’t smile because of her.”

Y/N’s breath catches.

Si-eun’s eyes are on her now sharp and careful, like he’s peeling her apart, piece by piece. He steps closer, and she can feel his presence like static, like heat.

“I smiled because… she reminded me of you. How you used to look at me. When you weren’t angry.”

She turns to him, eyes wide. “Si-eun...”

“I didn’t realize I missed it until it was gone.”

And just like that, the jealousy melts into something worse: guilt.

He looks down, like it’s hard to say the next part. “You mean more to me than anyone. But I’m not good at showing it. You know that.”

She nods, tears threatening again.

He exhales slowly. “I don’t care about Yeong-yi like that. I never did.”

And when Y/N looks at him, really looks at him, she sees it. That fragile truth sitting behind his tired eyes. His feelings have always been buried under all his defenses.

He never gave her a reason to doubt him. But she doubted anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“No. I am.”

Then, finally, he closes the distance, gently brushing her hair out of her face. It’s not a kiss. Not a promise.

But it’s something.

[rafeslvbug]

pleaseeee anything with florida!kilos!reader, dealer!rafe & barry 🙏

floridakilos!reader in the car during one of dealer!rafe’s meetings…

you twiddled your thumbs, socked feet on the dashboard, humming along to the sound of the radio while you waited for rafe. rafe had wanted to give you as much freedom as possible, he knew how much had been taken from you, but he had one rule : you weren’t to go inside barry’s house. ever again. not unless it was free of every line of snow. in fact, he rarely let you on the cut alone at all.

you didn’t mind it. he was trying to help, and it had worked so far. you were sober, and he was too although he still dealt for the sake of money, and his partnership with barry.

it had been forty five minutes now of waiting for him in the car, his hoodie wrapped around your body and the seat warmers on.

until there came a sudden rap at the window.

startled, you flicked towards the sound, to see barry waving through the window. you immediately went to roll down the window, but someone was counteracting it, shoving the window up.

rafe.

“rafe! stop that! let me talk to him, please!” you beg of your boyfriend who’s settled into the drivers seat covertly. he huffs, throwing barry a sideways glance before he reluctantly rolls the window down.

“barry hey!” you nearly leap out your seat, if it weren’t for rafe tugging your seatbelt tighter so you stayed glued to it.

“long time no see, you hangin’ out with country club?” he chuckles, leaning his arms on the open window while you grin, nodding.

“sure, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

barry raises his eyebrows towards rafe, as if to ask if you’re serious in your implication that you’re dating rafe, and rafe just waves his hand to tell him to hurry up his talk. “alright then..how’s country club’s world?”

pulling your lips together, you shrug, letting out a contemplative hum. “i dunno…don’t really talk to anyone there..”

“you miss the cut?”

rafe would have leaned over there are then, shut the window and drove off just for the audacity of the question. barry knows. it’s why he corrects himself, “you miss me?”

“well sure! you should come visit me someday!” you suggest, though you knew rafe wouldn’t be too happy with that. nevertheless, you wanted it to happen.

“oh yeah? get jumped by some rich assholes?”

“no..not necessarily…you could start a business y’know?”

“that’s not easy, you’re hopeful mrs country club,” he tuts, moving away from the window.

“i think you could do it!”

“sure you do..y’know god an’ prayers don’t work for everyone,” barry points at the silver chain dangling from your neck– the one you found at his house after some buyer dropped it.

“they work for me! i could pray for you?” you laugh, trying to poke your head out the window.

“yeah yeah, you do that. see ya around okay?”

he laughs, and you laugh with him, nodding while you say, “yeah..see ya barry!”

rafe doesn’t even spare a second in pulling away from the driveway, rolling up the window and getting you away. his hand’s tight on the steering wheel, jaw clenched because he knows what you’re gonna ask.

“so..can we do that again?”

“you can’t be serious..” he sighs, deep, heavy and tired.

“of course i am! barry’s my friend!”

one hand falls off the wheel, quickly taken up by yours while you idly play with his fingers. “really?” he questions.

“yeah..”

sighing once more, rafe nods, albeit reluctantly, “alright..if that’s what you want.”

you beam, satisfied and trying to catch a glimpse of barry’s house in the passenger mirror. going to rafe’s meetings would now have a little upside to it after all.

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