#based on another image I saw

[dadtron-3000]

Cyberpunk, this time

[mychapel-004]

FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!

i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.

i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.

in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.

this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable

it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.

then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.

he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.

finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.

it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.

in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.

[zecoritheweirdone]

i am being so so normal about these guys right now

[dan-whoell]

In case anyone wonders, when I dream of Phil he still has black hair.

[javierduffy]

ohh javieran … javieran post kieran’s death .., javier is a poor lonesome cowboy in america a long way from home with no more sweetheart to sit and talk with him ooohhh can anyone hear me ….

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

On the verge of doing a deep dive compare and contrast between both Wicked and Evita being adapted for films because the parallels are RIGHT THERE. In this essay I will

[yagurlhere]

A G E N T 3

[keeps-ache]

ooooh this is such a scam [<- looking up references]

[seawing-vibes]

🌃 oracleofpossibility Follow

I've been reading NightWings myths again and it's wild how there's no ending to the Darkstalker legend. Like they all talk about how evil and terrifying it was and how it was some great monster, but they all go in different directions when it comes to how it was defeated. Like nobody could even figure out how to beat something like that.

☃️ penguinfeather Follow

what if instead of being defeated by some hero or being tricked into destroying himself darkstalker just went underground and lives in the mountains

🔮 prophet-bot Follow

Date of post: 5,002 AS

This blog was enchanted to find accidental prophecies in posts. I sometimes make mistakes

[korattata]

Ok i've seen a few posts about it on twitter when glancing over there but has anyone compiled a summary of the issues with palworld on this website

[zee-rambles]

RISE FANS! Please take note!

Twitter hosted another Q & A With Ron Corocillo, and he confirmed that Rise’s BEST chance is for us to keep up the love for it. Right now, the most important thing we can also do is buy the TMNT 40th Anniversary comic, the comic that has Andy Suriano’s Rise of the TMNT comic in it!

No joke, a series will ONLY ever come back if the fan base stays alive, if we invite more fans in and keep up the love. Even though Clone High didn’t do too well, it was brought back because a fan base sprang up out of nowhere on Tik Tok. Studios saw that that there was a demand and they gave in. Rise’s creators want to do more with it, and so does the cast!

In fact, it’s becoming apparent that Rise fans are the most vocal group supporting the 40th anniversary comic. Not just me, but also the image below, when I went to buy the comic and told the worker at the store that I was only there for one version, she said, “Ah, you’re here for Rise, huh.”

SO KEEP UP THE LOVE FOR THE SHOW AND SUPPORT THE COMIC! LET’S GET. IT. DONE! And stick it to those haters!

[miyaz6ki]

──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) will do diff characters next week!

kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)

it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.

the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.

for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.

he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.

or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.

the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.

but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.

you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)

after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)

mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)

"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!

the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.

and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.

even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.

"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.

"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."

kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.

kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.

neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.

neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.

neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.

"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.

they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.

"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)

ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.

from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)

it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.

zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!

he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.

the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.

before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.

they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.

he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..

"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.

his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.

he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.

tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.

but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.

you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.

a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.

"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?

he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."

the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.

while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.

when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.

capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)

so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)

i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)

accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.

"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.

he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.

as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"

and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not

but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?

anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.

a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.

even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.

he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.

you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

[frmisnow]

1:37AM : BAROLO ! - (nsfw)

summary. you had been avoiding your ceo as best as you could after the intimate drunk meeting you had shared, so what do you do now when you both are forced on a business trip?

notes. second chapter! hope y'all enjoy🍷✶𝄞

warnings/includes. (3.3k words / smut!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smoking (reader's first time), masturbation heavely implied, fingering, giving m. head, pussy eating, drunk!!!, tad bit of angst at end

"we didn't sleep together, you fell asleep on my coach, i wasn't going to take advantage of you"

his words from a few days ago remain firmly in your head. you had done so good at avoiding him: taking the long way to not walk by his office, instantly running off to god knows where when you saw him - only for the very man you've been dodging so well, to ask you to go on a business trip to milan.

the flight was quiet.

the only thing that was hearable was the sound of a lighter getting light up every hour or so. he smoked.

it was his private jet after all, you didn't blame him. your mind trails off to your ex once more, you had thought you had managed to get rid of him in your mind completely, but he always managed to sneak back in.

he resented smoking, called smokers 'self-indulged assholes' if they did it in public. he was the kind of man who thought the world revolved around sheerly him, to think that another person would calmly invade said-world with a bit of smoke, was beyond unforgivable for him.

you glance towards jungkook, taking in the calm assurance in his eyes as he takes another slow puff. he seemingly notices your stare, his tone soothing, "do you want one?"

you physically feel your ex trying to pull the hand you're reaching out to take what jungkook offered, back. but he doesn't succeed, you win. you had never smoked before, you go based of what you've seen in pop culture. lightning, drag, wasn't it?

you can visably see jungkook fighting a smile while he reaches out for the cig, hanging it between his very own lips as he leans forward in his seat, one of his hands gently guiding your fingers so the cigarette was now in between your own plush lips

you slowly breathe, the smoke stinging your lungs and making you cough. he lets out a tsk, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he looks at you from under his eyelashes, "inhale deeper," the voice not mad, more like gentle scolding.

the hotel room was mostly quiet, besides the soft hum of the AC and the faint noises of the dazzling city through the open window. you both had shared a few more words earlier, incrediably vague, until you parted ways to your respective rooms.

you couldn't quite fall asleep, you blamed it on loud milan when you in reality couldn't stop thinking about his fingers which had been on your lips, your fingers trace over them, imagining his tattoed ones doing just that. you had to ask him what the history behind those was, next time. next time?

your hands wander to your tits, where his eyes had lingered more then once if your memory didn't fail you. and you imagine his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you.

"i want you," the words you had whispered against his mouth replay in your head multiple times.

just as your fingers trailed further, there was an abrupt knock on the door. you glance at your phone: it's 1:37 a.m.

as you open the door you see a image of your boss, you haven't quite seen yet. jungkooks hair is visabily messed up, his shirt loose around the neckline. "couldn't sleep," he mumbles, his tone sounding almost like an confession, he shouldn't say, "do you want to take a walk with me?"

you give in, you don't want to give much thought into how weird it was for a boss to ask his employee out on a walk at almost 2am.

the uber drops you off at a 24hr shop which seemed out of part for the milan you've seen so far (through car windows)

"if you want a snack or a smoke or something," he looks at you, "and then we walk"

you don't know what prompts you to say, "wine" with so much confidence but you do regardless. please make me feel like that night, i want you the words linger in your head shortly, words you'd never say out loud.

if he's surprised he didn't show it, moreover he looked satisfied, pleased with your answer. and that's exactly what you liked about jungkook: he knew how to read the room. did he hear you touch yourself? maybe. did he mention it? no.

he leads you deeper into the store, towards the back where there were rows of alcoholic beverages, the lights dim. he moves to stand behind you, his chest almost touching your back, as he reaches to grab a bottle of barolo from a high shelf.

the music in the background is some indie tune, you had heard before, you nod your head along to the sound absentmindedly.

you can see him smile at the corner of your eye, not a smile that was mocking or finding something funny, more filled with general admiration.

"you like this song?" he asks, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper almost as if it was a secret while he placed the bottle down to the cashiers table, pulling out his card, black.

you nod with a genuine smile.

you end up settling down on a bench in a nearby park, opening the bottle. you sit crosslegged, looking over the park at night, genuinely intrested, "so what music do you like?"

"i like...indie stuff, mostly," jungkook responds, turning his head to look at you, the light night breeze running over his hair, "but i have a soft spot for a few italian punk rock songs from when i was younger."

"ever seen any of them live?" you ask, taking a sip from the bottle, "y'know you are in milan after all"

he can firmly smell your perfume. the same one that had stuck to his coach for days which made it simply unbearable to sit on it, without thinking about you.

jungkook laughs, the sound soft, almost as if it wasn't entirely voluntary. he runs a hand through his hair, the ends just falling back into his face. "no," he says, tilting his head back a little, "i haven't."

"maybe you should," you respond casually. you don't know why you were giving such tips to a business man with a multi-million empire to his knees. did he even have time to go to silly little concerts? what kind of life did he live?

he laughs again, you loved the sweet sound of it, "maybe i should," raising the bottle to drink once more, "would you go with me?"

you reach out to take another large sip, you need some more alcohol in your system to answer him, "maybe"

he watches you intently as you reach for the bottle again, his eyes flickering to your throat as you tilt your head back to drink.

"maybe," he says again, smiling to himself, "that's so vague of you, maybe."

handing the bottle back to you, repeating, "maybe," his voice teasing.

you repeat the same word once more as you both laugh. you can feel the alcohol begin to warm you from the inside, the feeling of slight dizziness setting in.

meanwhile he's looking at you, his eyes wandering over your face, resting on your mouth, the way your lips are tinted red from drinking the wine.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you mutter though your tone grazed on something reminding a joke. stupid fucking question.

jungkook's smile remains if not widening while he moves closer, "how am i looking at you?"

"like you want to fuck me," you mumble, chuckling at your words like it was a ridiciulous thought on it's own.

"does that bother you," he whispers, his voice low, his words just a little bit slurred from the alcohol, "knowing i want you like that."

you raise your eyebrows, taking another sip, "so you're admitting it?"

jungkook raises his eyebrows, copying your movement, a lazy, almost cocky smile on his face. he grabs the bottle from your hand, raising it to his lips, drinking a mouthful of wine, holding eye contact with you as he does. and you're convinced he wants to see you dead.

he hands the bottle back to you, his smile still present on is face, "yes," he says, his voice low, the sounds almost like a soft moan, "I'm admitting it."

"you're actually so sexy when you're like this," you respond, clearly just as intoxicated as he was. 'like this' when you are not scolding me for not bringing the right documents, is the part you leave out.

he laughs, louder if that wasn't the alcohol talking. "sexy when I'm drunk," he teases, his words slurred, "is that it?"

"maybe," you babble which just makes the both of you giggle again.

he takes the bottle out of your hand, setting it down on the ground, the empty glass making a small clinking sound as it hits the concrete.

"you're drunk," he says, his words still a little slurred, the sound teasing, "i think you need to shut up."

you grin at this man's sheer audacity, replying, "i think you need to learn how to take a compliment properly"

jungkook just moves closer, not responding for a few seconds until you were so close that your noses touched, "you like compliments?"

he practically makes you lie down on that damn uncomfortable bench, "you want me to tell you how sexy you are? cause i will"

"i won't fuck you on a bench, kook"

"i never get to be just kook," he mumbles, something reminding a pout on his face, an adorable sight. "i'm always boss, or sir."

you don't know how to respond, you want him to be kook to you but that is something that is practically out of your control. so you moan.

you can hear jungkook say something — something about the city, something aboout the driver's taste of music? the words slip through your head as soon as they are said and all you manage to do is laugh.

the car feels to fast, milan is way to blurry and for a second you seriously ask yourself if you had taken any drugs. jungkooks hand slides over your thigh as you tilt your head, letting out a breathy chuckle.

the chuckle turns into a suppressed moan as his fingers brush over your underwear. you can barerly think straight, dare tell him to stop though you wouldn't even want to, even if you could.

you nod or at least try to; you didn't know why in the first place, it’s hard to tell if your head is moving or if you’re just imagining it. your eyes are half-closed, barely able to focus on his face, but you can feel his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties, brushing against your slick, aching core. "you're so wet f' me"

you make a mental note to rate the uber driver five stars later, because of the sheer noises that man had to hear. you were incrediably grateful for the music covered it up at least a bit.

just as you were about to cum, the car came to a sharp stop. the poor driver's voice pulls you back to reality, announcing you've arrived to the hotel.

jungkook brings his juiced fingers to his lips, licking them with a small 'pop' noise. for a second you actually consider pushing him onto the dirty ground in front of the hotel and fucking him right then but you regain compusure through a groan.

you both stumble through the lobby if you saw it properly one of the large clocks showed it was 2:51am but there was a big chance that your eyes were fooling you.

he practically pushes you towards the elevator as the door closes, jungkook looks adorably confused at all the various floor buttons, his finger unsurerly moving from one to the other.

"don't think," you pull him closer by his shirt while jungkook's hands instantly craddle your face, no thoughts in his head. you press as many random buttons as you could while he presses his lips onto yours.

his hands get tangled in your hair, he pulls you even closer as if he wants to breathe your soul in, moaning into your mouth.

the elevator opens with a little 'ding' and you have to look around to see if it's the right floor, you had surprisingly gotten lucky. the hallway lights automatically turn on at your movement, they feel way to bright.

you both reach the door of his room as he fumbles with they keycard, trying to slide it into the lock, cursing under his breath whilst you laugh. the door refuses to open which just makes him release a giggle, cute very untypical, "how do these even work"

logicaly he should be a man who has opened multiple hotel doors like this before but it was most certaintly the alcohol in his system that made everything a bit to fuzzy to handle. jungkook finally manages to slide the card into the door, the light turning green with a small click.

he pulls you with him, tugging you towards the bed, his movements messy as he almost falls once on his way. flopping down onto the covers, pulling you on top so you're straddling him.

it's a pretty view, him under you. he really did look hypnotized in a way whilst you ran your fingers over his facial features, they are not as rough as you thought, on closer inspection.

"you got to many clothes on," you mumble, removing your own shirt and shorts in a clumsy haste.

"then take them off"

you grin, your fingers moving to his shirt to pull it over his head, the action surprisingly slow and tender though it was probably the wine making your mind all foggy.

jungkook looks up to you like you are the moon and the sun, his eyes droopy, his words a stark contrast to his loving gaze, "you're taking to long, c'me here"

"you are in no position to give me orders," you reply, working on his pants.

his head falls back against the sheets, the smile on his face evident, "i think i am, i'm the big, mean boss man"

big, mean boss man - that's how you need to save him in your contacts, you chuckle at the thought, pulling away his boxers. his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing with need.

"shut up or no head," you don't wait for his response, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss onto the tip before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste and texture.

jungkooks hands tighten in your hair, guiding you with a mix of need and tenderness while he bucks his hips. you move your head up and down with precision, taking him deeper with each passing minute.

he curses, curses in a manner you've never seen a man like him do. and you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you have this man practically wrapped around your finger or better said — mouth.

his release is sweet, warm. you swallow each drop especially when he asks you to clean him up, you lick it all off. here and there you look up to him with your lashes and he moans each time.

you can firmly feel something shift in the air when you release him with that little 'pop' noise, reminding of how he left you without an orgasm in that damn uber. at least you had made him cum.

following, he gently pushes you onto the bed. you look over to your right, evidently amused noticing a closed wine bottle on his night desk. perhaps it automatically came with the hotel, it seemed expensive.

a hazy thought lingers in your mind, a blend of the lack of sleep and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. you reach out for the bottle, fingers grasping the cool, smooth glass.

with a tipsy giggle you uncork the wine, bringing it to your lips to get a quick taste before ultimately pouring about a good one third of it over your tits.

you can barerly make out jungkook's face, why did you mind seem so hazy? but you can hear his words, "you're a mess" his tone isn't insulting rather he says it like it was a just a mere fact.

but he calmly licks the liquid of you with the same ease as you had done with his cum.

“such a fucking mess,” he repeats, his words softer now, almost affectionate, as he sucks his way down the curve of your tit, "my mess"

his hands wrap around your thighs, putting them on his shoulders. he raises his eyebrows at your state, "all for me?" it sounded like a question though it was clear he didn't expect an answer — he certaintly didn't wait for one either.

the feeling of his hot, wet tongue against your core is a stark contrast to the coldness of the wine-soaked skin in combination with the ac, creating a delicious tension that had you whining for more.

jungkook’s hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he works his mouth over you, each flick of his tongue and suck of his lips calculated to drive you to the edge of sanity. he alternates between gentle, teasing licks and more aggressive, demanding sucks, making sure you’re fully engulfed in pleasure, one way or another.

jungkook eats you out like it's a part of his job, with much care and ease. an grunt or a groan vibrating against you more often then not.

his name slips over your tongue multiple times, and you would've been embarrassed for your porn-like moans if it wasn't for the release washing over you.

it falls over you in one motion and it would've felt like to much if it weren't for jungkook: jungkook, who's fingers wander over your thighs and tummy gently as if trying to bring you back on earth. jungkook, who gives you all the time in the world and whispers reassuring little sweet nothings against the sensitive skin.

when he sees you're somewhat ready to function again, his arms softly lie you onto him, one of his hands working through your hair attentively while his other reached out and lit up a cigarette.

the room has a special scent — wine, sex cigs.

jungkook takes slow, deliberate drags as you trace patterns over his chest, circles, hearts. his fingers absentmindely moving to lightly drum over your back while he takes another hit.

“want a puff?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, and without thinking, you nod, your brain swimming in a delightful stupor. he brings the cigarette to your lips, and you take a tentative drag, the smoke filling your lungs.

“breathe it in, babe” he murmurs, the nickname slipping from his lips like a forbidden secret. “like you did before.”

you do as he says, managing it properly this time as he gives you an approving hum instantly going in for a kiss.

you wake up with sunlight on your face, your first instinct is to smile, the curtains were open, did you forget to close them yesterday?

but as your senses sharpen, you realize something. something: or rather, someone is pressed against you. panic bubbles inside you as you register that jungkook lies beneath you, deep asleep, a peaceful smile grazing his face.

what had you done?

thankfully you remembered everything, though it was much more a curse then a blessing. you hadn’t wanted to cross this line.

there was no future here — he only desired you when you were both drunk.

and what was even worse was that you actually felt your heart clench when you looked at his clueless, oblivious face.

you wanted, no- you needed to disappear before the reality of this situation hits the both of you. it was a dick-move but that was what he had done that night, wasn't it?

but just as you begin to shift, a low, sleepy murmur escapes his lips, and he stirs beneath you. his eyes flutter open, a lazy smile making it's way onto his lips as he registers you on top of him, blissfully unaware of your inner conflict.

"good morning, babe," he reaches forward to brush one strand of yours behind your ear, you were convinced there was nothing currently working behind those eyes, "did you sleep well?"

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Cyber sex

Requested by @kittentaegu. Tysm, this was very interesting to write. I hope you like it 💜

This is from my prompt list (complete now). Click here to check it out 😊

Word count: 774

Warnings: masturbation

Alexa, play Cyber Sex by Doja Cat

A late night Facetime call while you're miles apart

You hadn’t even meant to start anything. It was just supposed to be a late night Facetime call— a few sleepy conversations over the screen, maybe some teasing as usual. But the second you saw him, shirtless, hair messy and jaw clenching as he adjusted his phone on the pillow, something in you flipped. Hyunjin and you had been apart for weeks now as he was off on world tour, performing in countless cities and living his dream, but it was starting to feel like an eternity without him

“Miss me?”, he asked with that lazy grin, voice deep and a little scratchy from sleep. You curled a hand under your cheek, tugging your blanket up just a little, “Always. You look so good like this”. “Yeah?”, his gaze dropped, “Thanks, baby. What’re you wearing?”.

You pulled the camera back just enough to show that you were in one of his t-shirts, bare thighs peeking out beneath it. “This. Nothing underneath”. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, “You’re seriously testing my self control”.

You let your legs shift a little wider on the bed, knowing exactly what you were doing, “You could help yourself out, you know. I wouldn’t mind watching”. His brows lifted, surprised, but he didn’t hesitate for too long, “You wanna see me jerk off for you?”. You bit your lip and nodded shyly, “I want to see everything”.

Hyunjin’s breath caught,  “Fuck”. He shifted again, propping the phone at an angle that gave you a full view of his body— toned, lean, veins bulging on his forearms flexing as he pushed the covers down. He was already hard beneath his boxers, and the sight of it alone had your clenching between your thighs.

“God”, you breathed, eyes trailing over every inch of him. “You look like temptation”. He chuckled lowly, palming himself through the fabric, “Then go ahead… watch me give in to it”.

Slowly, calculatedly, he pushed his boxers down, letting his cock pop free— thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip. Your breath hitched at the sight, mouth watering. Fuck, you missed him so much.

Hyunjin’s hand wrapped around himself, slow at first, dragging from base to tip while his eyes stayed locked on yours, “You’re not touching yourself?” “I just wanna watch”, you murmured but your core pulsed already. “I want to see how you fuck your hand thinking about me”. His groan was deep, guttural. He spread his legs wider, stroking himself more firmly now, hips barely lifting from the bed.

“I’ve been thinking about your mouth”, he confessed, breath ragged, “The way you moan when I slide in… how warm you feel wrapped around me”. You whined softly, fingers digging into your sheets as your eyes stayed fixed on him. The way his chest was rising and falling, the veins in his arm became more prominent, pulsing beneath his skin as he pumped faster, precum dripping over his fist.

“Wish I was there to lick it up”, you said softly, “I’d let you come all over me” “Fuck”, he hissed, head falling back slightly before lifting it again to stare at you. “You’d let me paint your thighs with it, wouldn’t you?”. You nodded, dazed, “Every drop”. He let out another broken groan, then reached offscreen and when he returned, he was holding something.

Your panties.

You gasped, “You found them” “Oh, I found them”, he said with a grin, bringing the soft lace to his face and inhaling deeply, “They smell like you. Sweet and naughty”. Then, still stroking his cock, he wrapped the panties around his shaft and the image of it had your core pulsing harder. “Fuck, Hyunjin” “I’m so close”, he panted, “All because of you” 

His hand moved faster now, slick from arousal and the delicate fabric. You could hear the sound of it over the line— obscene and addictive. His thighs tensed, stomach muscles tight, jaw clenched as he chased the edge. “I want you to come for me”, you whispered, fingers finally slipping between your legs as you watched him unravel.

And with one more stroke, his hips jerked off the bed, eyes rolling back as his release spilled out, dripping hot and messy over his fist and your panties. He panted heavily, chest rising in sharp waves as he brought the lace to his lips again, kissing it with a smirk on his lips.

“Damn,” he muttered, “You drive me fucking insane. You smiled softly, cheeks flushed, “Glad I could help”. He gave you a look— hungry, still not completely satisfied. “Next time I see you, you’re gonna ride me while wearing nothing but that shirt”. Your stomach flipped, “Oh, really?” “Promise. And next time, baby…”.  He leaned closer to the camera, eyes dark, “You’re not just watching”.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Also, I made a playlist with all the songs I recommend on this blog. You can find it here if you're interested in listening 💜

[linoxpudding]

Breakup Pt. 2 - Lee Know

summary: three years after the break up, you meet him in a life threatening situation

pairing: lee know x reader

word count: 3018 words

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: mentions of accident, injury, unconsciousness, broken ribs, blood, emotional distress

a/n: wow my longest fic till date, based on the poll results, here is the second instalment of the breakup series

PART ONE

Masterlist

Felix Ver.

*images are taken from pinterest*

~°~

Three years ago, you had no choice.

The threats, the hate messages, the constant barrage of cruel words—it had become unbearable. You had tried to endure it, for him, for yourself. But every day, you saw the pain in Minho’s eyes as he watched you crumble under the weight of their words.

He begged you to stay.

"I’ll leave the band. Just stay with me. I don’t care about anything else."

His words still haunted you.

But you knew he cared. You knew he loved his members, his career, his dream. He would have resented you one day. So you made the choice for both of you. You couldn’t let him do that. You couldn't be the reason he gave up his dream.

So, you walked away. And Minho let you go, even though it shattered him.

*******

Now, three years later. Your life had finally settled into something normal. No cameras following your every step. No hate comments flooding your notifications. No sleepless nights wondering how much longer you could take it before you finally broke.

But normal didn’t mean happy. Not when you still felt the emptiness he left behind. Not when your heart still ached for something—someone—you told yourself you had to let go. You had spent the last three years convincing yourself that leaving Lee Minho had been the right decision. That the loneliness was better than the suffocating pressure of being his.

That you had done what was best for both of you.

Then, you saw the news. And everything shattered.

"Breaking: Stray Kids’ Lee Know involved in a car accident—"

Your heart stopped.

Your chest caved in.

Your lungs forgot how to breathe.

Your stomach is twisting with nausea. 

No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

You fumble to open Twitter, your breath coming in short gasps as you type in his name. And then you see it.

#GetWellSoonLeeKnow

#PrayForLeeKnow

#StayStrongMinho

Thousands—millions—of tweets flood your screen.

Videos of the accident scene. Reports of his injury. Photos of the ambulance.

Your vision blurs. Your hands go numb.

Hands trembling, you begin to open your contacts to type a message to a number you hadn’t texted in three years. As you opened the contact, your last conversation with Bang Chan appeared on the screen—

You: Tell Minho I’m sorry.

The last reply you had received from Chan was him pleading for you to reconsider, to give Minho another chance.

Now, with your heart pounding, you tapped on his contact and typed a desperate message.

You: Chan, please tell me he’s okay.

Seconds felt like hours before your phone vibrated.

Chan: Y/N… it’s bad. Really bad.

The blood in your veins turns ice cold. Your fingers shake as you type.

You: Is he—?

You can’t even finish the sentence. Your mind refuses to go there.

Chan: He’s alive.

You nearly collapse from relief. But then—

Chan: But it’s serious. Chan: He hasn’t woken up yet. You: Where is he? Chan: Seoul General Hospital.

And then you’re moving—grabbing your coat, your keys, your phone—your body acting on instinct, fueled by nothing but pure, suffocating terror.

You don’t remember getting in the car. You don’t remember the drive. All you know is that you need to get to him. Now. Before it’s too late.

*******

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and dread.

Your legs carried you through the hallways on autopilot, your heart hammering so loudly you could barely hear anything else.

“Y/N.” Chan softly called out.

You turned to see him standing near the waiting area, his face pale, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Your eyes skimmed over the familiar faces of people who had once been like family.

Stray Kids, his brothers, they were all there. Silent. Huddled together in quiet devastation.

“How—” Your voice cracked. “How bad is it?”

Chan exhaled slowly.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” he took a shaky breath, “he has a head injury, a broken rib… a lot of bruises.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

Chan reached out instinctively, steadying you. You collapsed against him, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I c-can’t—” Your voice cracked. “Is he—”

“He’s a little stable,” Chan murmured, his hand soothing over your back. “But he hasn’t woken up.”

A fresh wave of grief crashed over you.

“Take me to him,” you whispered.

Chan pulled away, nodding, taking your hand gently.

“This way.”

And then you saw him.

Minho. The love of your life.

Lying in that hospital bed. Unmoving. Pale. His face was covered in cuts, a bandage wrapped around his head, wires and IVs connected to his body. Your breath hitched in your throat.

This wasn’t the Minho you remembered.

The Minho you knew was strong. Untouchable.

But this Minho?

This Minho was breaking you.

A sob escaped before you could stop it. And suddenly, you were at his bedside, reaching for his hand, clutching it tightly.

“Minho,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’m here.”

No response. His fingers were cold. Too cold.

“Please,” you choked out, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Please wake up.”

Nothing. And the weight of everything—three years of distance, of heartbreak, of trying to live without him—crashed down on you all at once. You bowed your head, pressing your forehead against his hand.

Tears blurred your vision as you gently laced your fingers with his.

Chan exhaled softly behind you.

“I’ll give you some time.”

You barely registered him leaving, too focused on the unconscious man before you. Your thumb brushed over his knuckles, voice breaking, “I never stopped loving you.”

The words fell from your lips before you could stop them. You swallowed, the lump in your throat growing.

“I thought leaving was the right thing,” you whispered. “I thought I was protecting myself. But I was just running.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, “I should’ve fought for you.”

Silence. Only the soft hum of machines and the distant chatter of nurses. You closed your eyes, pressing a trembling kiss to the back of his hand. 

“Please wake up, Minho,” you pleaded, “I can’t—” your voice cracked. “I can’t lose you.”

“I was wrong,” you whispered. “I thought leaving was the only way to protect you.” A shuddering breath. “I thought I could live without you.”

You let out a broken sob. “But I can’t.” 

“So please,” your grip tightened. “come back to me.”

Silence.

*******

It has been almost three days.

You never left his side. Chan brought you food, Hyunjin made you go home to shower, but every time you returned, Minho was still unconscious.

You met Minho’s parents for the first time after the breakup. His mother gasped when she saw you, her eyes widening in shock before softening into something warm.

"Oh, Y/N…" she whispered. And then she hugged you.

You stiffened for a moment, unsure if you even deserved this, but the warmth of her embrace overwhelmed you.

"We never blamed you," she murmured. "We understood. We knew how hard it must have been for you." She pulled back slightly, brushing a tear from your cheek with a mother’s tenderness. "But we always loved you."

Your heart twisted. "I’m so sorry," you choked out.

She gave you a small, sad smile. "Don’t be."

Then, Minho’s father stepped forward, giving you a firm, fatherly side hug, a strong hand resting on your shoulder. "It’s good to see you again," he said simply.

You swallowed thickly.

You had expected resentment. Anger. But instead, all you found was understanding.

And for the first time in years, you wished—God, you wished—you had met them again under different circumstances.

Chan found you beside Minho on the second night, curled up in one of the chairs, staring at the floor and holding Minho’s hand. He sat beside you with a sigh, handing you a bottle of water.

“You look awful,” he muttered.

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks.”

Chan leaned back, studying you. “You still love him.”

Your fingers tightened around the bottle.

“…I never stopped,” you admitted.

Chan exhaled through his nose, nodding slowly. “Then why did you leave?”

Your throat burned. “Because I thought it was the only way to keep him safe.”

Chan scoffed. “Safe from what? Loving you?”

You blinked up at him.

“You leaving didn’t protect him, Y/N. It destroyed him.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’ve never seen Minho so broken. He never moved on. He never even tried.”

Chan continued, “Minho... he was wrecked when you left. He was angry, hurt, devastated—every possible thing. And the worst part? He never let himself hate you for it.”

You shut your eyes, a sharp pain twisting in your chest.

“He told me once,” Chan continued, his voice quieter now, “that he realized he was being selfish. That even though he wanted to chase after you, he knew he had to let you go. Because you needed peace. And he loved you too much to take that away.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe it’s time you stop running.”

You swallowed hard, your heart beating faster.

Maybe it was.

*******

The next day, you were dozing off when it happened.

A soft shift. The rustle of sheets. A weak inhale.

Then—

“…Y/N?”

Your eyes flew open.

Minho’s gaze was hazy, unfocused, but he was awake. He was awake.

A sob escaped your lips as relief flooded through you. With trembling hands, you quickly pressed the call button, your voice shaky as you called out, “H-He’s awake!”

Within seconds, the door burst open, and a nurse rushed in, followed closely by a doctor.

“You’re awake, Mr. Lee,” the doctor said, his voice calm but urgent. He quickly moved to Minho’s side, shining a small light into his eyes, “Can you hear me?”

Minho blinked sluggishly. “…Yeah,” his voice was hoarse.

The doctor nodded in approval before checking his vitals. “Do you remember what happened?”

Minho was silent for a moment, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall. “Car accident…?”

“That’s right. You suffered a concussion and a fractured arm. Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?”

“A little,” Minho admitted, shifting slightly, only to wince when pain flared up in his side.

“Careful,” the doctor warned. “Your ribs are bruised, so try not to move too much.”

Minho exhaled slowly, nodding. “How long…?”

“You’ve been unconscious for three days,” the doctor answered, adjusting the IV drip. “Your condition has been stable, and waking up is a great sign. We’ll continue to monitor you, but for now, try to rest.”

The nurse made him drink some water.

Minho gave a weak nod, his gaze still sluggish. The doctor turned to you then, offering a small, knowing smile. “He’s lucky to have someone watching over him.” 

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to nod. “Thank you, doctor.”

With a final check of the monitors, the doctor stepped out, leaving you and Minho alone again. 

Silence hung between you.

“…Why are you here?” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. But it wasn’t just exhaustion that made it sound weak. It was hurt.

Your heart clenched.

“I—” You swallowed hard. “I saw the news. I had to come.”

His eyes scanned your face, searching. But this time, they weren’t hazy at all. They were filled with heartbreak.

“Three years,” he murmured. “It took three years and an accident for you to come back.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

Minho exhaled shakily, looking away. “And did it work?”

Your breath hitched.

“No,” you admitted. “It was hell.”

Silence stretched between you. Then you softly said, "I still love you."

His head snapped towards you. Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I never stopped, Minho.”

His chest rose and fell unevenly. His eyes glistened, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something—but then, with a broken breath, he reached for you.

You barely had time to react before he pulled you into him. His grip was desperate—arms shaking as they wrapped around you, holding you so tight you could feel his heartbeat against yours. 

“Be careful,” you worriedly said, he still has body aches after all.

He buried his face into your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

“…I thought I lost you forever,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

You clung to him, sobbing into his hospital gown. “I’m so sorry, Minho. I should have never left.”

His fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater, his body trembling against yours.

“You broke me,” he murmured, voice raw. “But I still love you.”

A choked sound escaped you. “Minho—”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumb brushing away your tears. His own eyes were wet now, his expression open, vulnerable.

Then, before you could say another word, he kissed you.

It was desperate, shaky—filled with three years of pain, longing, and love that never faded.

You melted into him, your hands fisting the front of his gown, as if letting go would break them all over again.

When you two finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard.

“You’re staying this time,” he murmured, more a plea than a demand.

You nodded, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m staying.”

*******

The hospital room felt smaller now with everyone surrounding Minho. After three days of restless waiting, Minho was finally awake.

His parents had been sobbing hard when they saw their son’s eyes open finally, his mother gently brushing his hair back while his father squeezed his hand in quiet relief.

The boys all shared a group hug after a mixture of teasing and scolding, masking their overwhelming concern. They had spent sleepless nights here, waiting, hoping.

And then, one by one, they left.

Now, it was just you.

Just you and him.

The door clicked shut behind Seungmin, leaving a comfortable silence between you. 

The hospital room is quiet now, save for the faint beeping of monitors and the distant hum of voices outside. You’re curled up in the small space of Minho’s hospital bed, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His arms are wrapped around you, holding you as if you might disappear if he lets go. His fingers draw absentminded circles on your back, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

“I really thought I lost you,” you whisper against his hospital gown, voice thick with lingering emotion. “I thought I’d never get to do this again.”

Minho exhales softly, his chin resting on top of your head. “You almost did.” His voice is quieter than usual, raspy from exhaustion, but the underlying pain is there. “You left, Y/N. You just... disappeared.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I know. And I regret it every single day.”

Minho lets out a shaky breath. “Three years.” His grip tightens slightly. “Do you have any idea how many times I reached for my phone to text you? How many times I saw something and thought, ‘Y/N would love this’?”

Tears prick your eyes again. “I thought about you every day,” you confess. “But I was scared.”

Minho shifts slightly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him. His gaze is softer now, but there’s still something raw in his eyes. “Scared of what?”

You swallow. “That I’d hurt you more by staying than by leaving. That I’d ruin your career, your life.”

Minho stares at you for a long moment, then exhales deeply. “I was so angry when you left,” he admits, voice thick with unspoken emotions. “Angry, hurt, upset—every possible emotions. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. And after a while, I realized I was just being selfish.”

Your breath catches. “Selfish?”

Minho nods. “I wanted to keep you, even when you were struggling. I wanted you by my side, no matter what. But if being with me meant losing your peace, then... I had to let you go.” He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. “But even then, I never stopped loving you.”

Tears slip down your cheeks. “Minho...”

“I’ve been single all this time,” he confesses, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Not because I couldn’t move on—but because I didn’t want to. I kept telling myself that maybe, if the band contract ever ended, I could find you again, and we’d have a chance.” He gives you a weak, self-deprecating smile. “Realistically, I knew you might’ve moved on by then. But I let myself live in this fantasy world where you were still mine.”

A soft sob escapes you, and you shake your head, gripping his shirt tightly. “I never moved on, Minho. I never dated anyone either.”

His eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “You didn’t?”

You shake your head again. “No. I couldn’t. No one could ever be you.”

Minho lets out a shaky breath, his expression crumbling before he pulls you into a crushing embrace. “God, I love you,” he whispers into your hair.

You cling to him just as tightly. “I love you too.”

For a while, you just lay there, wrapped up in each other. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, his fingers stroking through your hair, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in so long.

Then, after a few moments of silence, you murmur, “You know, your arms will go numb if you keep holding me that tightly.”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Let them. I’m not letting you go.”

Minho’s arms wrapped around you, holding you even more tightly, grounding you. His fingers tangled into your hair, his breaths uneven against your shoulder.

"Don’t leave me again," he whispered, his voice raw.

You clung to him. "I won’t."

A shuddered exhale. A soft, lingering press of his lips against your hair.

"You’re mine, right?"

You buried your face against his chest, whispering, "I’ve always been yours."

Minho exhaled, his body genuinely relaxing for the first time in three years.

And this time, you weren’t letting go.