#but I hate how they approached it like women who don't want to marry are shortsighted or stupid?

[llycaons]

I'm so tired of the 'well *condescending explaination* Susan, meme phrase. like I think it was a really useful format for certain topics related to like, wealthy white women's sense of privilege or being out of touch with other ppls experiences esp poc or poor ppl and thats a great usage of it, but more and more I see it applied to completely unrelated topics and it's just starting to sound unironically misogynistic

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

[cynthiav06]

I can Almost imagine how Impressive you have to be To Pull THE percy Jackson. Like pulling any Demi-God is great but PERCY?!? The son of posiden?!? THE SAVIOR of Olympus?!?

I headcanon that Percy is really just out of Anyone's League And You gotta be Pretty damn Special to be able to Pull him

Like imagine Fumbling him or breaking his heart

THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Like come on Rick you are telling me Percy the greatest demigod of all time Jackson has to be paired up with someone who has nothing in common with him, frequently condescends him, literally forces her own views on him, hates his father, has a mother who tried to kill Percy, is controlling and toxically possessive of him and most importantly someone who has completely different life goals than him?? It doesn't even make sense when you look at it rationally.

I think Rick himself was trying to put Percy down in post Son of Neptune books by making his personality all about Annabeth.

We are talking about the Savior of Olympus, the bearer of Achilles Curse, the strongest demigod, the man who denied immortality from the King of Gods, Poseidon's favorite son, the only demigod to have been approached by other Pantheons first and well respected among their demigod equivalents, the only male demigod to have respect of Artemis, only one to be favored by so many Gods on the Olympian Council and that's only pre-Heroes of Olympus.

The Survivor of Tartarus, the demigod whose blood even Gaia wanted to wake to due to his power, the first and only Greek to be made a Praetor and now two times savior of Olympus. This is all without mentioning his singular and unique feats, and he has many.

AND THIS IS WHAT RICK DOES WITH HIS CHARACTER ARC????

Had Rick not been so obsessed with shoving Percabeth down our throats, he could have totally made Seafam Arc, and all our fics would have not been fics. We wouldn't even have needed headcanons for seafam cause Amphitrite and Triton and all of Atlantis would have absolutely loved him cause come on, it's Percy. It's impossible not to love him. So let's assume that's exactly what happened.

So the whole of Atlantis, Seafam, and most of the Olympian Gods love Percy and not to mention Sally and Paul, who are also very protective of Percy.

The new Lord of the Wild is his best friend, The Lieutenant of Artemis is his other best friend and cousin, both the children of Hades/Pluto are his best friends/cousins, the only other demigod to be blessed by Poseidon with a rare gift is also his very close friend not to mention other members of the Seven also respect him greatly and owe him quite a bit.

Hestia, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, Artemis,Hades, Hepheastus, and even Dionysus and River gods either openly favor him or have much respect for him. (Poseidon and the Seafam are implied, Bob and Damasen as well).

This isn't even taking into account all the pegasi and nymphs and sea creatures who love him and that he has a literal hell hound.

Percy not only has friends in high places and the favor of literal gods on top of being Poseidon's favorite son as told by Poseidon himself, all the people with special abilities are all close friends with him.

In Riordanverse, Percy is like the only person you don't want to cross like ever.

So you know logically if anyone needs an explanation as to why Annabeth isn't a good match for him and someone like Rachel would have fit much better. A mortal blessed with sight much like his Mother later turned Oracle of Delphi, the girl who saved his life in literally the very first two encounters they have, a girl under protection of Olympians and blessed by Apollo?

Apollo could have definitely waived the celibacy rule as there have been mentions of married women later becoming oracles in Greek mythology( May Castellan too if you count the books) and that the rule is only to prove devotion to the God nothing more. And if Apollo can't, then Delphi, who is a spirit older than Gods themselves, could just change allegiances. She once belonged to Poseidons' domain, so there's that.

But since I am biased in favor of Rachel, literally any other ship but Percabeth would have been logical and fitting and better off compatibility wise.

[partycatty]

so johnny puts on a little bit of weight right (eating or drinking who knows) and he fuckin hates it. maybe not insecure but he’s not happy with how he looks, his abs aren’t defined and hard as rock anymore, he can GRAB his stomach.

so fem!reader isn’t having it and FUCKS HIM BLOWS HIM RIDES HIM all while grabbing at the flesh of his ass thighs stomach anywhere she can nab and praising him because thick men and women are HOT

love you 💙💙

IM SORRY IM NOT MAKING THIS SMUTTY BECAUSE I NEED FLUFF FOR ONCE IN MY GODDAMN LIFE BLUE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU NEED TO BE SPAYED /LH

johnny cage > pudge

warnings: insecure johnny *chewing on his pudge rn*

notes: guys im tweaking over johnny hardcore this time around thanks to my favorite enabler @spacepl4ant <3

[ masterlist ]

• johnny has been insecure as of late, pulling and squishing at his body with frustrated groans every time he dressed himself in the mirror. his jawline softened, chest puffed and stomach spilling out over his belt. he didn't want to admit just how far he let himself go, drinking on his off-days and spending more time on the couch instead of his at-home gym. it took a toll on his perfect physique.

• he didn't want to burden you with the realization, opting to ignore the change by wearing looser clothing or pulling away when your touches get too intimate. it put you off, leaving you confused and worried on why he's being so distant. was it something you did? something you didn't do?

• it wasn't that he was neglecting you or declining your touch, he just visibly tensed or conveniently turned away to your physical advances. he felt gross, he felt unlike himself, as if he was wearing the wrong skin and it made it crawl. johnny wondered if you would be disgusted or upset with his lack of attention to his body. baggy clothes were his go-to.

• johnny knew you didn't properly notice, instead assuming he was going through a wardrobe change and trying something new. but, upon checking his walk-in closet, you didn't notice any new clothes.

• the two of you were getting ready for a dinner date out, johnny opting for one of his larger button-ups and flowy pants. as he faced the mirror to don the shirt, your padding footsteps were down the hall and quickly approaching.

• he couldn't just slam the door on you, what an asshole he'd be, but he didn't want you seeing his bare stomach and the way the pudge poured over his belt buckle. johnny tried pulling the pants up further, but instead ended up looking like a fumbling idiot as you finally walked into the bedroom.

• you were already ready, always earlier than your husband - he was the diva, not you - and you leaned against the doorway, whistling at the side-view he provided.

• "hey there superstar," you coo, looking him up and down. johnny feels hot. "looking good, my love."

• "thanks, sugar," his voice is strained, upset as he fumbles with the belt. "i think my belt shrunk in the wash."

• you give him a funny look. "you're not throwing your belts in the washer, are you?"

• he whines, flopping his arms to the side and looking at the ceiling with a huff. "no, it's not fitting right. i think i've gained weight."

• "i know," you nod, walking over to him and hugging him from behind. "i don't care."

• "you don't?" his voice is gentler, softer. "i do."

• "why?"

• "because i don't look like johnny cage," he moans, tugging at his shirt. "i feel awful. i wasn't training, i drank, i've been just... lazy."

• you're quiet for a while before you open your mouth to reply. "i think you look like johnny cage," your voice has a concealed playfulness to it. "i mean, you're who i married, and you still have my favorite parts."

• "what's that then?" he frowns. "if not my muscles."

• you trail your hands around his body as you face him, tearing his gaze away from the mirror behind you. your eyes can't help but trail across his features with a warm smile, struggling to pick the first thing you could.

• "your nose," you begin, getting on tippy toes to kiss it. "i like the shape. strong, charming.

• "your eyes," you place fluttering kisses, just barely on his lashes. "warm, they're expressive and you have a cute puppy dog look."

• "your hair," you run your fingers through the silky locks, scratching with your nails ever so slightly against his scalp. "you take good care of it, it's soft and cute when you wake up in the morning."

• "alright, alright," he giggles, pushing you away by your hips. "i get it."

• you pout at him, crossing your arms. he chuckles and pulls away, stepping back. you point behind him, to the bed. he raises his hands in a surrendering motion and plops his butt onto the sheets.

• you're quick to climb onto him, kicking your shoes off and straddling his lap. johnny's hands instinctively fall to your outer thighs, supporting you as you sat on his own.

• "you're sweet to me," you continue, hands on his face, ever so slightly kneading at his cheeks. "you're handsome, you're charming, you know what you want and you strive to get it, you're creative, you're brave, i mean, nobody else could've done what you did back in sun do. you saved the timeline. i'm glad you did, or i wouldn't be here with you."

• "it wasn't just me that saved everything," he protests, but not entirely denying your reassurance. "we had ninjas, fire gods, monks-"

• "ah-" you put a finger to his lips, his eyes widen in surprise. "but you were there. you gave kenshi purpose, you had that stupid, stupid drone, you cheered everyone up, you looked out for others. only johnny cage did that."

• he grins lopsidedly, scanning your face in admiration. "you're such a sweetheart."

• "because you deserve it," you kiss the tip of his nose. "and for the record, you're cute with a little tummy."

[rowretro]

𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), suggestive

♡synopsis: Sunghoon, a rich, handsome, perfect man in all ways.... Though he's an extremely dangerous demon. Women fall head over heels for the prince charming. All except one. A godess. Lee Y/n, the woman whom he only has eyes for. Rumour has it she's still a virgin, single, and has never been a relationship. It's quite shocking, the Lee Heeseung's stunning younger sister? never had a boyfriend?!, purely because any man who dares approach her ends up dead. Of course she has never hurt a single soul.... Yet why was she cursed without love?

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Sunghoon isn't one for love nor lust, sure he'd have thought about falling in love with a loyal woman many times before... but all the girls that cross his path fall purely for his looks. How could they not? His features, his build, everything about him is so perfect. Those bushy brows, perfectly sculptured face, his eyes shining with stars, pretty moles scattered across his smooth skin, and his lips oh so kissable, anyone who gets to marry such a prince charming must be the luckiest human alive.

For the first time in his life he decided to go to a pretty popular bar, he was accompanied by Jake, one of his closest friends who was known to be quite the party goer. The bar was known for the women, one woman specifically, they would say she's a stripper, but she wasn't exactly like the other strippers. More a belly dancer. But Sunghoon realized it was no lie, the way they described her beauty.

Her smooth, coloured skin, visible through the lacy, rose gold material of the stunning dress, her legs, and navel exposed through the slits, her fairly sharp jawline, followed by the doll-like appearance which was accentuated by her make up, the way she bats her lashes, and the many moles that painted her face. She was a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Sunghoon was mesmerized by the way her body moved. Nothing too provocative, if anything, more of an elegant dance, but something distracted him, the burning gazes of other men, something he hated entirely. She belonged to him now. The Demon of all demons, the soon to be king of the underworld, a man everyone must fear. Park Sunghoon has set his eyes on something he wants, and if anyone dares to even want it, they will die a brutal death.

That night Y/n walked home, hugging her jacket due to the cold. She shivered at the icy air biting at her exposed skin, specifically her face which has now gone numb. There were specs of blood splattered across her white trousers from a previous encounter... A rather shocking and scarring encouter one shld say.

It isnt a first time a man had come up to her with lustful intentions, but she always managed to escape, not a scratch evident on her body. However.... the man didnt even get the chance to touch her, his eyes ended up bleeding everso randomly, he floated mid air as his limbs shatterred, and his body burnt to the ground. Seeing something so violent, the woman ran, not letting a single noise leave her mouth.

Perhaps it's an evil spirit she may have escaped, or a ghost, like ones in some ghost movies where a motherly ghost would be there to protect her children, or any woman that looks in the face of danger. She wasn't one to take chances though. "Sis I think you're on something... either that or a demon was stalking you." Heeseung simply said as he heard her little horror story.

"Heeseung you don't understand- nothing touched him he just floated in the air and- it was like in stranger things season 4 when Vecna gets into peoples head- except only this time, they burn to ashes!" she simply said as Heeseung placed down his book, sliding up his glasses as a look of horror was evident on his face. "Heeseung?" "Park Sunghoon. He has eyes for you.... he probably cursed you...." he simply cut her off, and walked out coldly.

It was exactly what he said. Sunghoon walked around her in a circle, admiring every inch of her, as she stood there "Lift the curse?... why would I darling?... you were clearly made for me." He said, tilting his head as his fingers softly grazed the skin on her face, his lips leaning in to peck hers. There's no going back. The way his hands trailed up her curves, wrapping around her waist, as her body pressed against his.

He kissed her again, more passionately "You've no way out my darling.... once I want something..... I get it. no matter the cost... you fucking understand me?!" he asked through gritted teeth as he yanked her hair. she'd be stupid to disagree... after all she had no way out "I-I understand..." she managed to say as his grip loosened, his dark glare replaced with a soft, sweet smile.

She couldn't deny it, he's a stunner. Absolutely gorgeous, from head to toe, despite being so scary and psychotic, if she could just look past that she'd realize she hit jackpot. Y/n remained silent as Sunghoon ran his fingers through her silky, dark hair, twirling it at the end, she silently snuggled into his chest as he smirked. "That's right.... you should give in" he said with a smirk, snuggling her...

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A/N: Idk if y'all liked this, but feel free to suggest any yandere, fluff, or just crazy plots idm (no smut, but I may do slightly suggestive stories<3)

[vintagedebutante]

Power & Control

A JFK x Petite!Reader Fanfiction- 18+

Further Info: Smut, period-accurate views on virginity I guess, uh... rough sex

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: This is my first time writing smut in like, forever! I’d like to thank the ever-iconic @lancerlovesick for inspiring me to write again, I hope you all enjoy it! (Please be kind, I'm kinda rusty lmao)

All alone, you wrung your hands restlessly. You had received a call from one of the President's men instructing you to wait in the west sitting hall, part of the White House's residential area, for a face-to-face meeting with the President himself. Why on earth would the President want to see you alone? How bad of a job could you be doing as a lowly secretary where you required the attention of the country’s most powerful man? Puzzled, your eyes darted around the room.

The west sitting hall was both palatial and comfortable-- an austere half-moon-shaped window provided an elegant backdrop to the green and white floral couch and matching chairs, one of which you were anxiously curled up in.

Your train of thought was quickly derailed by the authoritative sound of a man’s footsteps approaching the room. Abruptly, you stood up and straightened your dress. Your heart clanged in your chest so ferociously you could have sworn you were about to faint.

John F. Kennedy, the President of the United States, stood before you in his expensive, well-tailored navy blue suit. He towered over you, making you feel even weaker in his presence. Though you had interacted with the President briefly many times during your few weeks as a secretary, you had never been alone together like this. Rather than giving you the reprimanding look you expected, he gazed at you rather... ravenously.

You hated to admit it, but you loved the way he looked at you. Though Kennedy was a married man, not to mention the President of the United States, you couldn't help but relish in his lustful gaze. The way his stormy blue-green eyes wandered as he looked down at your minuscule, delicate frame like you were his most prized possession sent you into a frenzy. Though you understood you were no more than one of John F. Kennedy's many sexual conquests, being in his presence like this made you feel like you were the only two people left on Earth. And then, oh God, he smirked and shot you a wink.

"You're a pretty little thing, you know that?" The President quipped in his charming Boston accent. "Now I've got you right where I want you."

"Oh! Uh, Mr. President, I... Mmh..."

Instinctively, a soft moan escaped your lips. You couldn't believe yourself, reduced to a giddy schoolgirl by such a powerful man. Your cheeks flushed. How embarrassing. Yet, the fluttering in your chest was undeniable-- you couldn't resist him. This must have been the famous "Kennedy charisma" you kept hearing about from the other secretaries. The President let out a low chuckle and swayed closer before placing a large, rough hand on your waist. The aroma of expensive cologne mixed with cigar smoke was intoxicating. God, you wanted him.

"Now how can I uh, get you out of that dress?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The other women you worked with used their familiarity with the President as a kind of status symbol. You were lucky if he knew your name. To be lusted after by John F. Kennedy was unlike anything you'd imagined. Like a marionette controlled by an unseen force, you turned around, reached for your zipper, and slinked free from your cotton shirtdress. It was at this moment that you noticed how wet you were, your white undergarments marked with a visible damp spot where your thighs met.

"Not so innocent, are we now? Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with uh, being a little excited."

You guessed you weren't the only one who noticed. A bright red blush crept across your cheeks. As if in a trance, you stripped yourself of your matching set of undergarments and stood coyly before the country's most powerful man. What had come over you? You weren't normally that kind of girl, yet, in this moment, you found yourself uncharacteristically eager to please.

You could tell the President was enjoying himself. You heard gossip around the office that Kennedy got a thrill out of using his power to get those close to him to do his bidding. Whether he was challenging diplomats to swimming contests or making a newly hired secretary drop to her knees, the President was well aware of his influence on others. You never imagined he would turn his attention to you, after all, the two of you really hadn't interacted outside of work. Perhaps he was attracted to your subservience— you were always quick to follow orders from higher-ups in a professional sense.

"God, you're perfect," Kennedy remarked as he ran his large, textured hands over your tiny naked body, pausing to play with your perky breasts. "Spin for me."

Slightly confused, you stepped back and gave the President a coquettish twirl.

"Atta girl," he smirked as he took your dainty, manicured hand and led you to the large, floral-patterned couch behind the coffee table. The President let out a pained groan as he sat, his lustful expression briefly changing to one of genuine discomfort before slowly settling into a seated position. You watched excitedly as Kennedy fiddled with his belt, exposing his large, erect member as his slacks and undergarments pooled at his ankles. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

The President gave his cock a few slow, indulgent strokes before impatiently gesturing for you to join him. He was a busy man, after all. Knowing Kennedy, he likely had something important to attend to following your tryst. You couldn't help but feel special as you clumsily climbed into the man's lap, facing him. God, he was handsome. You had never been this close to the President before-- you could finally get a proper look at his chiseled, masculine features, made all the more apparent by his ever-present suntan. You understood why nearly every woman you worked with swooned over him. To be completely at Kennedy's mercy like this was sublime.

"Have you uh, done this before?" Kennedy's breath was warm on your neck.

"M-hm," you responded sheepishly. You knew it was unbecoming of an unmarried girl your age, but you knew better than to lie about the time you spent at the local drive-in with a handsy boy or two back in high school.

"You dirty girl." The President began to draw slow circles on your aching clit with his thumb. Immediately, you felt a hot, fluttering sensation in your chest. You tried to hide the immense pleasure you were receiving from such a light touch- you didn't want to come across as too needy. Though, based on how quick you were to disrobe, perhaps that ship had already sailed. Before you had time to gather your thoughts, Kennedy plunged his index finger into your wet little pussy. A sharp, panicked moan escaped your lips. "Hush, you don't want the whole White House to hear you now, do you," he quipped, only half-joking. Though the thought of getting caught was titillating, you decided it would be in your best interest to obey. You ran your hands through his thick, perfect-looking chestnut hair as he roughly thrust his finger deeper inside, desperately grabbing fistfuls to keep yourself from making the mistake of being too loud once more.

Wasting no time, the President slipped his index finger out of you and began stroking his larger-than-average shaft indulgently in preparation. Though you were not a virgin, you still wondered how you would manage to fit the whole thing inside yourself. You were quite petite, and it had been a while, after all. Nervously, you adjusted your position so the tip of Kennedy's throbbing, fully erect cock was resting at your entrance. You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself. You locked eyes as he gently placed his hands on your waist.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep quiet for me?"

"Yes, Mr. President," you whispered coyly.

The President grabbed you by the hips as he nearly slammed himself inside you, setting a feverish pace. Instinctively, you buried your face in his neck and let out a muffled gasp. It hurt at first, but the initial pain gave way to immense pleasure as your muscles relaxed. You bucked your hips up and down, desperately trying to match his rhythm.

"God, you're so tight, just how I like my girls," Kennedy whispered between grunts and curses. All you could muster in response was a soft, tortured whimper as you held onto him for dear life. The throbbing between your legs was excruciating.

Kennedy lowered his lips to your ear. You could nearly feel his teeth against your skin. "I could just hide you away and have you all to myself whenever I want. How does that sound?" You could only moan against his neck-- though the prospect of being one of the President's favorite playthings only made the pleasant sensation in the pit of your stomach grow.

"Oh, Mr. President..." Your breathing hastened as you gave in to the all-consuming wave of pleasure that overtook you. You had never experienced a climax so intense-- it was as if an earthquake raged within you, you couldn't help yourself from trembling as Kennedy continued thrusting roughly. "Atta girl," he whispered. His grip tightened on your hips as his pace increased, his low moans sounding more frustrated by the second.

"Oh, fuck," the President gasped, his head rolling back as he violently came inside you. You could feel his cock furiously throbbing within your walls as you both paused to catch your breath. You sat up straight as you watched him wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Same time next week, doll?" Kennedy asked breathlessly.

You stumblingly dismounted, your knees wobbling like jelly. You wondered how on Earth you would make it home after such an experience.

"Of course, Mr. President."

[stxrvel]

welcome home (1)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: when an accident makes you forget the last seven years of your life, you're lucky to have someone like Bucky to support you in your recovery. except he's not the Bucky you remember.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: angst. that's all.

note: this wasn't planned. at all. i had the day off and wanted to write something but nothing was coming to me enough to write another part of the outbreak or how to break a routine in one year, so i was just browsing tumblr until i saw something related to memory loss and this popped into my head. i thought i wasn't going to finish writing it but it came out more than i expected. and clearly this gives for a part two and even more, but at the moment i don't know when that will happen. also, i suck with titles, i think i'll change it later. meanwhile, i hope you enjoy it! feedback is always appreciated, thank u for the support! 💜

masterlist | next | series masterlist

Bucky was right to be scared. He was right to feel his soul leaving his body and his heart bursting with pain. He was completely right to be frightened, unsure of the future and the opportunities it had taken with it. Bucky was right to feel that his world was crumbling, that he was left with half a heart to survive for the rest of his life.

But he was also right in deciding not to show how scared he was. He could have his nerves frozen inside his body and feel his blood boiling inside his veins, his whole insides churning and messing up without any compassion, but he couldn't let that rule his life. He knew that the only solution was to cope rationally and objectively, even if he wanted to burst into tears every ten minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good for now,” Bucky heard the doctor, along with the others who were in the room.

He had been standing in the corner of the room the whole time, not moving a millimeter barely to breathe. The mood was so bleak and melancholy that he feared the sadness would rub off on him if he blinked any faster.

“So, can you discharge her now?” Tony Stark asked, his body closer to the door than any other.

“Yes, she can leave after you sign some paperwork. I'm going to need her to come back for some monthly checkups and let me know if she comes to remember anything.”

“Of course,” Steve Rogers stated.

Bucky wandered his gaze over the other two men in the room and the two women behind them, Natasha Romanoff and Carol Danvers. They all looked wary, not taking their gazes off your figure lying on the gurney after the doctor finished checking something in your eyes. He didn't like the way their bodies moved, anxious to talk, anxious to ask questions. He didn't like how Steve constantly opened and closed his hands; how Tony crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest; how Natasha suspiciously watched the doctor every time he approached you and asked what he was doing; how Carol glared at the man every time he told them there was no news or progress. They had overwhelmed you before with so many gestures and words that the orderlies had to take them all out almost by force.

In a way, Bucky understood them. He too had been terrified at the beginning, still was to some degree, but it had been a while before they began to regulate their behavior. Bucky understood that the situation was difficult for them, as it was for him, but they also had to think about what it was like for you.

You were on the brink of death and awoke to find that about seven years of memories had been erased from your head.

Bucky had not taken it well at first. He was in a constant panic and searched the internet for all possible solutions that could make up for the mistake that was made. He was anxiously talking to Wanda trying to convince her to find something to do. He had gone to Strange almost begging him for some spell that could fix everything. He had asked the doctor a hundred times on the verge of insanity if it was possible to fix it with another surgery. It had simply been the worst news he had ever been given in his life.

Until, by some divine miracle, the rational part of his brain took control of his thoughts and emotions. That's when his “there's nothing we can do” thought came. The rest of the team was surprised when they saw him calmly walking around the Complex and going on missions, when Bucky had finally understood that he couldn't stop his life for something he couldn't fix. He had to learn to live with that and he hoped the others would too.

But no, it seemed that moment of enlightenment hadn't come to anyone but him.

They returned to the Complex after signing papers and picking up medications with the orders the doctor had given them, some pills for the eventual migraines and muscle relaxants if needed.

The trip was tense. Everyone sent you wary glances and purposely averted their gazes when they saw you watching them. Bucky could tell you were starting to get nervous. Even more, anxious.

Lacking knowledge of your family's whereabouts and that your current address was the Complex, that was where you would spend the rest of the days of your recovery -although Bucky had other options in mind-. The doctor had put his buts in, believing that being in such a tense, busy and overwhelming environment as the main Avengers facility was could hinder your process of getting better, but Tony was very specific and quick to tell him that there was a part of the Complex, a wing, that they had almost completely isolated to keep you in a safe place and away from the stress of the job. The mechanic spoke confidently about how you would be totally at ease as if the decision was entirely up to the doctor, while giving Bucky a helpless look. Finally, to please Tony, the doctor agreed to let you go spend your recovery at the Complex.

Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky was your husband.

The doctor who treated you for almost a year, from the time you arrived injured and near death, to your subsequent surgeries and recovery, always knew that the final decision was out of his hands. It was funny to watch Tony argue his points to influence his decisions, but in the end that was not something he had any power in. His gazes always turned to Bucky, waiting for a nod or a shake.

Tony knew that too. You had invited him to the wedding because you were closer to him than Bucky, plus they had to see each other constantly for work. They weren't best buddies, but they maintained a relationship that was professional and affectionate and friendly enough to keep you satisfied. That is, until the accident. Since that day, Tony had taken a completely different stance towards Bucky and he really didn't find it strange. He hadn't even been able to speak to him since the day he had almost apologized with his knees to the floor when they had to tell Bucky that you almost died because of a mistake.

Over time, Bucky had let go of the anger along with his realization that he couldn't do anything to change the past, but it seemed to him that Tony still felt guilty about what had happened.

Bucky looked away from the road when he saw you stir in your seat as they were about to arrive at the Complex. The team tried to make small talk after several minutes of traveling in awkward silence, but it resulted in a much more tense atmosphere with everyone turning their heads to look at anything but you like fish out of water.

Bucky watched you from his position in the back of the van as you moved forward to view the Complex facilities in delight. He couldn't help but smile after spending months in constant stress, realizing that you had done the same thing the first time you had gone over ten years ago.

Carol and Natasha took it upon themselves to guide you through the isolated wing of the Complex to the room you would be staying in. Bucky stayed a few floors down along with Steve and Tony in the living room.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky heard Steve ask next to him, as Tony quietly approached the bay window.

“Fine.”

“Buck, you don't have to-”

“Really, I'm fine,” Bucky nodded, noticing Steve's incredulous look. He had to fight not to roll his eyes in disgust.

One thing the team had taken to doing constantly was treating him like a child, like someone who didn't know what he was feeling and didn't know how to control his emotions. That had been happening since the moment he accepted that he couldn't fix something that was out of his control. That you'd had an accident, you'd lost your memory, you'd forgotten him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried everything, and there was nothing.

But the team thought his attitude was that he was trying to hide his feelings and, well, in part he was. He didn't deny that it still made him scared and angry to think of all the opportunities and moments that were gone along with your memory, but he was aware that showing himself that way in front of you wouldn't bring you any good. Unlike him and completely unaware of the truth, the team believed he was in denial. They believed that Bucky had been trying for months to avoid dealing with his feelings and that at any moment he would break down and suffer fighting the horrible reality.

Bucky had only responded to their unconscious attacks and questions with the truth, but it seemed the team was in more denial than he was.

“The doctor said the chances of her regaining her memory were high. Don't worry.” Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder to accompany his words, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Steve, I'm not wor-”

“And she'll adjust well to the routine in this place. You know we'll be constantly keeping an eye on her and making sure she's okay, right?”

“I'd rather you stay away,” Bucky mumbled, his teeth grazing at the discomfort.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky kept his distance at first. He wanted to first meet and see how you were adjusting to your new home and how you related to others. Besides, he was also a little nervous about talking to you. You had done it before, yes, at the hospital. You had introduced yourselves and asked him a few questions when he was around. But when Bucky finally confessed to you that he was your husband, it was as if something had disturbed the gravity around the both of you. Clearly Bucky was quick to notice that change in your behavior and began to pull away trying to give you your space and not overwhelm you, unlike others.

You had some memories with him, Bucky was sure. You had lost the memory of about seven years, and you had come to the team ten years ago. That would have been good for him and your relationship, except that in the beginning neither of you could stand the other.

That's right. You two hated each other's guts. And Bucky eternally regretted waiting until the fifth year of meeting you to make his feelings known to you. Because, at that point, all you remembered about him were his stinging comments and his cold, calculating stares. When he remembered the things he had said to you to hurt you on purpose, he would cringe and his body would tremble in rejection.

Before confessing, he had thought about the possibility of keeping everything hidden, maybe try to win your trust again and suddenly have what you had before. And maybe the Bucky of six years ago would have done that, wouldn't have hesitated to keep the truth hidden just to guide you down the path he wanted to walk. But the Bucky who was there, in year ten, couldn't look you in the eye and try to keep something in the dark. He knew it wasn't right and that lies usually backfired on the person telling them. Besides, ever since you had decided to try to have a relationship, you had made him promise never to keep anything from you, no matter how stupid or horrible it was. You had been in such a toxic relationship with him before that you only wanted to look out for each other's welfare. A relationship based on trust and communication was a good relationship.

And Bucky wanted to keep his promise, even if you couldn't remember it.

So he was keeping his space, but he was always aware of what you were doing. And that's why he noticed every time you would give him a questioning look and then pull back and focus your attention on something else when you noticed he was looking at you.

Bucky wasn't sure if it was a good or bad idea what he was doing. He could just walk up and talk to you, maybe you were willing to do that. Or you might think he was crazy for watching you from afar like he was an eagle and didn't want you near him under any circumstances. Bucky didn't know what to do, and asking the team wasn't in his options, so he just decided to do what he thought best.

One day, a couple of weeks after you returned to the Complex, Bucky met you casually. Really, casually.

He had spent a whole week in constant stress so he hadn't even been able to get near the side of the Complex where you were staying. He had been assigned an undercover mission and it had turned out to be a little more complicated than it seemed at first. There were too many fights involved in the end, but he had achieved his goal.

The day he arrived at the Complex he took a long shower and a long nap. It was the least he deserved. After waking up, he went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee because it was just getting light, when he saw you leaning on the kitchen counter.

You froze at the same time he did. Bucky wasn't expecting the first person he would meet to be you, he didn't even know you were already freely leaving your safe place, but life is full of surprises, apparently. Bucky noticed your wary gaze on him, how the cup you held in your hands had been halfway to its destination and how your body moved only to breathe.

He moved, continuing with what he had gone to do, despite feeling that captivating electricity coursing through his body and asking him to move closer to you. Moving his eyes away from yours felt like a sin and his body was almost reluctant to follow the directions in his head.

Bucky finally approached the coffee pot to notice the steaming liquid coming out of it. So, it was coffee that was in your cup.

He was a little hesitant to drink from the coffee you had made because he didn't know how you would react to his intrusion, so he decided to move to the other side of the kitchen where the drawers were and grab the first cereal to be found.

“You can have some of that coffee,” you spoke to him suddenly, resuming your movements and he could barely turn to look at you over his shoulder. “Clint did it.”

Bucky followed your eyes moving all over the instance, anywhere but on his, and even though he felt he'd had a year to prepare for this, it seemed completely insufficient: nothing would have prepared him to ever again hear your nonchalant voice directed at him the way you spoke to him before you decided to become a couple. Bucky thought that those years had been buried in the back of his head, that the situation you were going through wouldn't bring back memories he preferred to keep hidden, but thinking about doing it was easier than actually doing it.

He moved his body almost groaningly until he was back in front of the coffee pot next to you. Hearing you talking to him like that had knocked his mood to the floor. He wasn't too high either, that mission was both physically and mentally exhausting, but he was more relieved to be back at the Complex.

“I didn't see you this week,” you spoke again as Bucky thought you were about to leave the kitchen. He moved his head to look at you, his expression indescribable, you could barely describe him as dumbfounded and bewildered.

Bucky mumbled a few words before responding. “I was on a mission. Far away.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, and Bucky nearly melted at the sound. Even though he recognized your demeanor, because that was how you acted before when you wanted to get information out of him or when talking to someone you suspected was hiding something from you, he couldn't help but rejoice at finding little gestures that made him reminisce about the good times he had with you.

With more encouragement, Bucky poured his black coffee under the umbrella of your expectant indifference.

“How have the others been?”

He moved to stand in front of you with the cup in his hands, and could notice how subtly your shoulders slumped a little. He couldn't define whether in calm or ennui.

“It's been… complicated.”

“Are they very insistent?”

You turned your head to look at him, and Bucky nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd taken. He thought you'd keep visually ignoring him and not turn to look at him like he was a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.

“They're horrible,” you barely whispered, your head bobbing closer in complicity. Far gone was your mask of coldness the moment you found someone to complain to about how terrifying those weeks at the Complex had been. “I feel like I can't move my hair without having someone behind me asking me if I want my hair combed for me or if I was moving it because I had a headache. Anything I do is over-analyzed and that's so…ugh, so frustrating.”

Bucky definitely didn't expect you to spew all those words in front of him, but he did understand how overwhelmed you must be and mentally berated himself for agreeing to you having visitors from the moment you arrived. His idea was that you would have time to clear your thoughts and to adjust to that new place on your own, but somehow the team managed to convince him to let them in from time to time to greet you because being alone too much all of a sudden wasn't good for your sanity.

He should have known better knowing how clingy and pushy his teammates were.

When he was around you, they behaved, but they seemed to pretty much take advantage of the times when he wasn't around to behave as they pleased.

“I hate being treated like I'm a piece of glass. I understand well what happened and its aftermath and that it affected them too much, but I can still live peacefully without needing them to do things for me. I'm not incapacitated or anything like that.”

“I understand.”

Wow, Bucky, couldn't you have said something much more interesting?

“I'm fine,” you continued speaking as Bucky noticed how your eyes were lost in the distance in the kitchen. “I really feel fine. But they're always on me like trying to convince me otherwise and talking about my memories every other time.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and suddenly felt the sting in his chest from anger. There was only so much Bucky had in life to control his temper and that was you. With anything else, Bucky was nothing but walking indifference. He didn't care about the fights the others on the team had, he didn't care about the decisions that had to be made, he didn't care about what the majority chose, he didn't care about the discussions about the rooms when they had to stay in hotels. But when it came to you, there was no stormo chaser that could withstand his tempestuous attitude.

The limit was that the others could get angry, fight and argue about whatever they felt like, but the moment that started to affect you, Bucky didn't hesitate to step up and shut them all up. That was one of the reasons he was the leader of the mission most of the time. It was easy to recognize his leadership ability, even if he tried to hide it through that window of indifference. He was very objective when it came to making tough decisions and was very capable of organizing whatever chaos had been created around him.

And, at that moment, Bucky felt he had reached his limit. He had let himself be convinced by the team to bring you here to carry out your recovery contrary to what he had thought of leaving you in the city with one of your closest friends that you remembered very well; and then he had let himself be convinced to let them invade your space when it was clear that they were not going to know how to behave around you and would overwhelm you just like they did in the hospital.

Bucky couldn't understand how he could have made such bad decisions about you. He felt he had completely failed you as your husband by not giving you a truly safe place in which to heal.

“I'll tell them not to come back,” Bucky told you after a few seconds in silence and your blank stare focused on his suddenly elated face.

“What?”

Bucky met your gaze. “This wasn't the way I wanted you to spend your recovery, and it's certainly not the way you should spend it. You should be calm, but I don't see that happening. I'm sorry.”

You watched his face, transfixed. Bucky looked quizzical for a few seconds at your dumbfounded stare and no response. His eyes moved around your face trying to figure out if he had said something wrong… until it all clicked in his head.

You didn't remember.

Yes, it seemed stupid because he'd been living with that thought all last year, but apparently he had to remind himself. For a moment, he had gotten so lost, not only in the familiarity of your ramblings and gestures, but also in the annoyance and self-reproach, that he had forgotten for a few measly minutes that you didn't remember. You didn't remember that protective side of him. You didn't remember how much he loved to sit and listen to you talk about others, good things or bad things. You didn't remember how much it made him angry when other people made you the least bit uncomfortable or angry. You didn't remember the way he showed that appreciation, that love for you.

That attitude Bucky was giving you was completely new to you. Surely it was like seeing a different person. Bucky mentally cringed at the thought that you must be thinking of him as a jerk who acted like a teenager and said hurtful things just for the fun of it.

At that moment, he would have liked to take more time when you were in the hospital to talk to you, so he could get to know you and you could see that he was different and not the same person he was six years ago. But at that time he felt so scared. Just the memory of your face contorting when he had told you he was your husband still sent shivers down his spine.

One thing he couldn't deny was that he had lived constantly, even up to that moment, in fear of rejection. When you had reacted that way that time at the hospital, Bucky had at first turned away in fear. But then he had tried to be nice to you, as if nothing had happened. However, he could tell that it was much more strange for you to see the flowers on the table in the room or to have him bring you lunch because the hospital food was so simple. It seemed that no matter what he did, that reluctant expression on your face would not go away.

Then, he stopped trying. He would only show up in your room when you were sleeping, in the daytime or at night, and when everyone gathered for the doctor's checkup. Bucky didn't know how to get back into your life and the very idea was driving him to the brink of panic again. So he tried to have that moment of enlightenment again, but all he got in response was that maybe he should continue to keep his distance.

At that point, Bucky didn't know what to do. It wasn't your fault to react that way because it wasn't what you remembered about him, that wasn't wrong. He felt again that incessant need to pull away and go back to watching over you from a distance, because the look you had given him was so similar to the others that it was scary. Too scary. The possibility that he could never get back even half of what you two had before danced around him like a taunt. The ring on his ring finger too heavy to bear.

“Thank you…? I think,” you replied at last, but without changing the quizzical look on your face.

“I'll talk to Steve,” Bucky announced, a little more impassively than he had planned, and took the cup tightly in his hands with the thought in his head to get out of the kitchen so he wouldn't keep invading your space.

He felt your gaze follow him until he was near the living room.

“Hey, wait.”

He heard your footsteps following him and planted his feet on the floor. He gave you a questioning look over his shoulder, waiting for you to say something. Bucky watched you move from side to side, shifting your weight on your legs, a clear sign of your nervousness. When you looked directly at the contents of your cup instead of his eyes as you spoke, he couldn't help a small smile.

“I'm sorry about that. It's just… This is too weird for me. I wish I could get close and talk to you because that's what my body wants, but my head keeps me alert and defensive when you're around. What I remember about you is not…”

You cocked your head and twisted your lips. Bucky thought that had been the kindest way to describe it.

“You don't have to apologize.”

“But I do have to!” you exclaimed, scowling at him. “It's been a year and you've been nothing but kind to me. You've given me space and time, unlike others-”

Bucky nodded strongly at your words.

“-but I've given you nothing in return.”

He relaxed his features, letting the tension dissipate away from his body. He momentarily pushed away his worries and negative possibilities because you stood there in front of him with such a contrite expression on your face that it caused him physical pain.

“You don't owe me anything, Y/N, okay? What I do I do because I want to, not because I'm expecting anything in return from you. If you feel like you need another week before you talk to me, that's fine, take it. If you feel it's a month, six months, a year, it doesn't matter. Take as much time as you need. Either way, anytime, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Bucky hadn't missed the journey of emotions that roared across your face and he was genuinely happy about it. It had been a while since he had seen you feel not only comfortable but joyful around him, that he had begun to think that those moments would only live on in his memory from now on. But, perhaps, that might not have been the case…

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmured after sighing, and if Bucky hadn't been so attentive to you he surely would have missed it. Along with the small smile you gave him that would be enough to keep his sanity afloat for the rest of the month.

You saw him give you a small nod and then begin to walk away, leaving as the sun's rays began to appear through the living room window. A strange feeling settled in your chest, and it seemed like a turf battle was taking place between your reluctance to accept that Bucky had changed and that you two had taken your relationship four levels higher than expected, and this new feeling that was akin to hope. You could barely recognize it.

You didn't know how you were going to begin to deal with the reality that you were married to Bucky, but you suddenly felt a little less afraid to know the history of the decisions that had brought you to this point.

You remembered the wedding ring that was tucked away in your nightstand drawer and how it shone just as brightly as the one you saw on Bucky's finger. Maybe you felt a little closer to being ready to start dealing with it.

[nico-esoterica]

How To Deal With 'Fans' If You Have a Celeb SP 👀

You're in control of your reality, first and foremost. Your person also only wants you. That's it.

But should shit get to you one day, here's some reminders approached from a business-like and detached perspective:

They are lining your sp's pockets. That BTS-fandom rich emotional currency that creates the memes, fanfiction, sold out shows, and economic demand in real time is just making your person richer. Think about how they're gonna spend all of that on you. Fan devotion is excellent soil to plant your dreams in.

Anyone who seems really obsessed, even if they're a spiritual girlie who thinks they have a connection w/ them will not have them in your reality. But you need to be firm on that. No one is going to successfully 'manifest away' your person unless you think it's possible. You need to start thinking of yourself as their only choice.

Said fans are in love with a projection of them. It's their industry image that's palatable and carefully tweaked to appeal to specific demographics. This also may sound harsh but most of those fans will not think they can successfully or functionally be with them. They believe in social limitations and work with limits you've decided you don't have. You will be in the 'unrealistic' 1%. They will not.

Super locked-in and obsessed fans will eventually get bored and stop wanting your sp or won't as intensely. The real world's going to get more demanding, lifestyles and obsessions change, and they will inevitably focus on something or someone else. Gen Z's attention span is notoriously short and non-committal. Someone that seems like a fandom vet can stop updating their socials at random because of work, school, etc.

Even stalkers, saesangs, etc, inevitably get bored or have real life obligations. Putting that much energy into being a criminal, weirdo, etc will take a toll on their mental health sooner or later. From a safety pov when manifesting, imo, I like to think of them from a human view so I can minimize/prevent any harm they can do in my reality. Even if you're unmedicated and running on fumes, your obsession w/ a celeb will negatively impact your health, funds, relationships, and is not sustainable long-term. Therefore, I don't consider any creeps in my sp's life to be effective enough to cause harm of any kind. It's good to think of your relationship as a fortress they can't penetrate. They don't have the energy or disposable income like the girls used to bc of the global economy lmao. Just keep some safety affirmations on deck and you're fine.

Like I've said, their negative assumptions work to your advantage. That's why I said before that most creep behavior won't be seen positively by your sp w/ them bc they're terrified they'd hate them. They're insecure, don't think they have a chance with them, that they're out of their league, and all of these limiting ideas that industries concoct for money. All of this is working for you. That's a home-grown defense.

But you need to pair that with reminding yourself of how in love with and infatuated your sp is with you and no one else. This is why, imo, so many wives married to famous men wind up with infidelity. Despite being chosen, they still thought there'd be someone waiting in the wild to snatch their men up..and it'd inevitably happen. They had incredibly limiting beliefs about their men and assumed that because, 1, they're men, and 2, limitless access to women as an option meant they'd automatically go for it. So you need to get your boss bitch game up and start reveling in how amazing your person is and how they'd choose you over a million ig models or groupies. You need to think of yourself as the magical exception at all fucking times. You are a unicorn. Act like it!

IF YOU DON'T THINK YOU ARE THE EXCEPTION, YOUR CELEB SP WON'T EITHER!

[bangthemsonyeondamn]

Too Damn Loyal

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k

Genre: Married Couple, Some light BDSM, Light dom/sub, Mature Audience Only.

Summary: both are absolutely in love with each other but he thinks she deserves better so OC just get's angry and umm yeah, punishes him (they both want it). dorks in love who are whipped for each other, Jungkook loves to yap & blushes a lot. here he is from a poor background married to a very rich women and he feels insecure. he loves to argue and rile up his wife, his wife has a thing for calling him her "husband". she calls him her perfect man and remembers every slight thing he mentions. Soft Dom wife who is ready to do anything her husband asks him to and he get's angry because she's "too damn loyal" to him. Warning: Mentions of alcohol, candle wax, blindfold, gag, flogging, riding crop, handcuffs.

Notes: IF UNCOMFORTABLE KINDLY SCROLL AWAY :)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Jungkook is your husband of 2 years. You married him because you fell for him first and proposed to directly marry, he was shocked and on the moon because he did have a crush on you back then. It took him multiple dates to agree to marry you. Both of your parents didn't agree because according to them you don't belong with each other, well you think otherwise cause he is the perfect one for you. 

Your parents think he's just with you for money and his parents think you're too controlling for their son. There were really limited people in your wedding unlike your sister's which you and Jungkook got an invite to, well your sister only invited you knowing damn well you're married and won't go anywhere without your husband.

Some people just stare at him and don't even approach him even though they know he is the husband of one of the most influential personalities. When people speak to you, they ignore him like he is not even there or straight up insult him saying "if you need a job, call me I have a position for you".

You get fed up with them and you both sit in the corner while the ceremony comes to an end almost. Jungkook sits next to you while holding back tears he holds your hand

"I can't stand hearing that," he said in a whisper.

You squeeze his hand for some support because you know how toxic your family is, they put a facade of being kind to the world. sometimes you think you're like that too, you only care about Jungkook and yourself that's it.

"Let's go" he takes your hand and starts walking with you. once you were away from everyone, he looked at you, holding back tears "d-do you still love me?"

"hun i only love you no one else" As soon as he heard that he hugs you tight not wanting to let you go.

"I love you so much" he whispered in your ear.

"my baby please calm down" you rub his back for support.

He holds you tighter not wanting to let you go, his heart is racing "I hate them so much"

"me too"

He looks at you, his eyes are a little red. "I hate the way they look at me, they treat me like I'm just a bug"

"Do you want to eat out in a hotel?" you said distracting him because you don't want to stay in the wedding and stress him out.

He nods "please" he said in a whisper still holding onto you, not wanting to let go

You hail a taxi, he is still holding onto you tightly, you can see that he is shaking a little and still holding back tears. "baby you can cry just make sure to take deep breaths okay so you don't choke"

He nods, and after taking a deep breath he starts crying quietly, his tears stream down his face, he buries his face against your shoulder, the sobs are shaking his shoulders. he keeps holding onto you, his fists clenching your shirt, his head buried in your shoulder, his body still shaking as he cries. You can hear him faintly muttering I'm sorry's and I love you's in between sobs.

"I love you always remember"

you answer him. He tightens his grip on you as you say that, crying even harder.

"I love y-you too" he managed to say in between sobs, his breathing  and shaky. "promise you'll never leave me...please" he said, his voice shaky, looking up at you, his eyes red and tear filled, his fingers still clenching your shirt.

"I'll die but won't leave, okay? you said rubbing his back so he calms down. He nods, he hugs you tighter and buries his face against your chest, still crying, you can hear him mumbling "I love you" over and over again like a chorus. he leans up and rests his forehead against yours, his face wet with tears, he takes  breaths, his voice is shaky, but he manages to speak. "please don't ever leave me, please...you're the only light in my life"

"You have to promise me as well" you said and intertwine your fingers.

Holding your face in his shaky hands "I promise I won't. I wont, ever, ever, leave you, I promise" he said, his voice still shaky from crying.

"I swear I'll find you okay?" you said and left soft kissing on the back of his palm. He nods, holding you close "promise me? You'll always find me no matter what"

"No matter what" you whispered in his ear.

"And I'll do the same for you" he said quietly, hugging you tighter, you feel his tears trickle down his face again. He buries his face against your chest again, breathing shakily "promise me" he repeated again, his grip on you tightens.

"I promise my gguk" hearing you call him 'my gguk' makes his heart beat faster, he clings onto you even tighter, and nods "I promise too, my love"

"Let's go?"

He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, still clinging onto you though "yeah, let's go. I want cuddles" forgetting about eating.

"After eating" you remind him that you're going to a hotel not home.

He finally lets go of you "yes, food, then cuddles" he said quietly, you can still see the evidence of tears on his cheeks, but he's slowly beginning to calm down.

"you should fill your tummy to the brim okay?" you said hugging his bicep.

He smiles faintly  "I'll do that, for you. I'm really hungry"

"yes let's eat"

he says taking your hand in his "let's go then"

"it's a expensive restaurant"

you said as he was busy looking at the exterior of the hotel.

He raises an eyebrow "how expensive are we talking? I didn't exactly bring a lot of money"

"what? I'm paying" you tell him.

 He shakes his head  "Nuh uh, I'm paying. I'm the husband, it's my job"

"nuh uh I'm your wife it's my duty to fill your stomach"

 He pouts at you  "and it's my duty as your husband to spoil you and buy you things. So I'm paying"

“it's my duty to always make you happy”

 He pouts even more, knowing that he won't be able to win this argument, but he's stubborn  "You make me happy by just existing. Paying for your food is the least I can do"

“no smiling is the least you should do”

He smiles faintly "I won't smile until you let me pay. Or at least let me pay half"

“okie don't smile I can handle angry kookie”

He tried to act angry, folding his arms defiantly, still refusing to smile "I'm serious, I'm paying. Or letting me pay half. I won’t smile until you agree"

“fine by me, don't smile, c'mon”

He frowns again, stubbornly refusing to smile, he mutters something like "I'll win this argument some day" but he grabs your hand and leaves the car and starts heading towards the restaurant.

He stops in his tracks at the sight of the prices. He slowly looks at you, his eyes wide, and he just mutters 

"Are you sure we shouldn't go somewhere cheaper?"

“no, only the best food for you”

He looks back at the prices, still shock and sighs, he knows he won't win this argument 

"A-are you sure? It's a lot of money"'

“hmm excuse me, we're ready to order" you said ignoring your sulky worried husband.

The waiter looks up and smiles at you "what would you like to order?"

“We'll have 2 wagyu steaks, oysters, and Hawaiian Pizza. Chocolate pudding, cajun sliders, 4 cans of beer and 2 bottles of soju”

The waiter writes down your order and smiles again  "Certainly, your order will be delivered in a few minutes. Can I ask for both or your names please?"

“mr & mrs jeon” you said proudly.

The waiter smiles wider upon hearing that  "Okay Mr and Mrs. Jeon. Please, take a seat and your food will be with you within few minutes"

After the waiter left, Jeongguk still looks slightly shocked as he spoke up 

"Love...that's gonna be so much money. How- how are you going to pay for this?"

“Babe, just eat and don't use your brain” he pouts, but he nods, not wanting to argue any more. He knows he won't win. 

"But I'm paying next time. Okay?"'

“hmmm”

"I see, you're going to be difficult when it comes to that aren't you?"

“Hehe” you giggle

"you're so stubborn."  he muttered before grabbing your hand and linking his fingers together. you brush his hair back. He closed his eyes and smiled slightly at your touch, the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away as you caressed his hair, he held onto your hand with a comfortable firmness but not too tight. He hummed quietly and relaxed against your touch. 

“ggukie”

His eyes still closed, he made a questioning noise to show that he's listening. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, his hair somewhat messy from you touching and caressing his hair, and he smiled faintly at you. The earlier tension and pain seemed to be nowhere in sight, only blissful and comfortable calm remained on his face 

“Should we go shopping tomorrow?”

His eyes narrow at the mention of shopping  "Yeah! I'll be able to spend time with you, and we'll be spending more money"  he teased jokingly at the end, being sarcastic. 

“not just for you” you already have enough clothes.

He smiled wider at that, tilting his head to one side  "You're spoiling me too much. You need to let me spoil you too."

“Another time” he pouts slightly at that, he wants to spoil you too  "When will that be then, love?"

“hmmm I will decide later”

He tilts his head slightly again at your vague answer, but he smiles at you too.  "You really are stubborn, you know that?"  he teased playfully 

“uh huh”

He sticks his tongue out at you and huffs slightly, still pouting  "but it's one of the things I love about you. It's adorable when you're stubborn, even if it's annoying sometimes"

“The dishes arrive, let's eat" he nods, his gaze lingering on you for a few more seconds as if committing your face to memory, and then he starts eating happily. He looks up at you as he chews his food and smiles  "these are so good"

“hmm”

“it's too god” you mispronounce with a mouthful of food.

His mouth is full with food as he tries to find words to tease you. "It's really god"  he said in between chews and smirks at you, copying you. he swallowed before speaking again 

"I love it. You really chose all my favorites"  he beamed at you, his eyes shining in both fondness and happiness. He seemed a little too happy just because he was being fed with his favorite food.

“Eat well”

He takes another bite and hums happily, nodding. 

"I'm eating well. I'm happy you fed me my favorites. I'm happy I get to be with you. I'm a really lucky man"

"I'm the lucky one"

He smiles widely, shaking his head as he swallows 

"No, I'm the lucky one." he says, staring at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes 

“No I'm it's obvious ask anyone” you reply back quickly.

His gaze still holds lots of love "No no, I'm the lucky one. Look at you, beautiful, kind, sweet, loving, adorable. I'm definitely the lucky one"

“Look at you handsome, cute, adorable, sexy, goodlooking, hardworking, gentle, kind, passionate, respectful, sweet, caring who can compete with that” you said it made him flustered. 

“I can also do anything for you”

He smiles softly and reaches out to gently stroke your cheek "I know you can. You do everything for me, love. Which is why I'm the lucky one to have you. You're too good for me"

“No you're way too good for me”

He shakes his head firmly, cupping your face in his hands gently. "No, I'm serious. You're so perfect. I don't deserve you, and yet you love me anyway, and it's honestly a wonder how I managed to capture your attention."

“You're perfect, I just act like I am”

He gently pinched your cheek playfully at that, shaking his head again "Stop that. You're not just 'acting' like anything. You are perfect. You make me happy just by existing, and I will defend that till the day I die. You're perfect no matter what you say"

“hehe says the perfect guy himself,” you said, drinking beer and opening a can for him too.But he doesn't stop holding your face in his hands, he gently caresses your cheeks with his thumbs gently and playfully.

"You're perfect-ier okay? Way more perfect than me."

“so you're perfect-iest more perfect most perfect”

He laughs quietly at your words and the way you worded them. 

"There is no such word as 'perfect-iest' love"  he teased, pinching your cheek again 

“Also no such thing as perfect-ier”

He rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out at you, 

"You know what I mean"  he pouted, looking at you with his puppy eyes for a split second before looking away again 

“you also know what I meant”

Shaking his head again, still pouting slightly, but his expression was a mix of playfulness and slight pouty annoyance.

"Hmph. You're so stubborn"

“you too” you teased. Trying to distract him from all the harsh words he heard today. 

"Yeahhh, so what? I'm stubborn"

He said it as if it was a challenge. He crossed his arms, as if a challenge for you to respond to that. 

“you're still my man”

He relaxed a little at that, arms falling loosely by his sides, slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his whole demeanor softened slightly at those words. 

"I'm still your man"  he repeats your words, his voice soft and loving 

“will always be"

He smiles widely at those words, the smile reaching his eyes as he says  "And you will always be mine. Forever."

“hmm ofcourse I can't let anyone snatch you my handsome husband”

He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he said, 

"Oh really now? Why's that, love? Are you worried that someone will steal me away from you?"

“hmm sometimes”

He hums thoughtfully, a slightly teasing tone in his voice, 

"Oh? Is that so? What's the reason for the 'sometimes', hm? Don't you have confidence that I won't leave you?"

“I don't know”

He chuckles quietly and shakes his head "Really? You don't know? I thought you would. Do you doubt my love for you, darling?"

There's a slight teasing in his tone, but he's also curious. he wants to hear your answer 

“I don't doubt you I don't trust others” you answered what you felt in your heart.

He hums at that, his expression visibly softening as you answer. the slight teasing in his tone is completely gone, replaced by a hint of tenderness and understanding 

"You don't trust others, so you get worried that they can take me away from you. Is that it?"

“Yeah”

He takes hold of both of your hands in his. He looks deeply into your eyes as he spoke in a soft, tender voice 

"Love, you really don't have to worry about that. No one can take me away from you, or you away from me, okay? We're in this together, forever. You're stuck with me forever, darling"  he added teasingly. 

“You too,” you said truthfully.

 He agrees, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

"Only you. Just you. And I don't want anyone else either. You don't have to worry about losing me. I'm yours, darling"

“I'm my Jungkook's as well”

He smiles wider at that, there's a slightly possessive edge to his smile 

" Exactly. You're mine, all mine."

“Let's go?” you said standing up with support at the table, you both are tipsy and dazed because of the soju

“Go get the taxi, I'm just getting the bill”

He nods and stands, stretching his arms over his head and groaning quietly at the slight strain in his muscles in a way that he knows you find stupidly attractive. His shirt lifting up just the tiniest bit, revealing a narrow strip of tanned skin. He then turns to head outside and hails a cab.

 After getting the cab, he looks back and sees you exiting the restaurant, he turns fully to look at you directly, his gaze lingering on you for a few extra seconds, as if he had a hard time taking his eyes off you. After a few seconds, his gaze flicked up to the impatient cabby before he looked back at you with a small grin on his face.

"Love, you should hurry up, the cabby's impatient"

“yeah this is for you” you hand him his corn ice cream.

He takes corn ice cream, his eyes widening in surprise and he looks at you with an affectionate expression, as if he's saying 'you remembered' without actually saying anything.

"Thank you, darling"

“Love you”

Slightly looking away from you for a moment and taking a bite of the ice cream as he muttered out 

"Love you too..." his words were slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, and he tried to act nonchalant as he refused to look at you directly. 

 He continues to eat the ice cream, his gaze turning back to you every few seconds, as if he can't look away for more than a few seconds at a time. He hums quietly, his expression visibly softened as he eats. His pouting, though very slight, is still present as he looks at you. It was clear that he's trying to act nonchalant, even if he's not doing a very good job, his gaze still lingering on you every few seconds. There are some thoughts in his head and the soju he drank is just encouraging him more.

He looks at you, his tongue sneaking out to lick the ice cream dripping down the side of the cone, his gaze still lingering on you as he did that. 

"You are staring at me or something, love?"  he said in a slightly playful tone, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?” you question him because he’s the one ogling you.

 he looks amused at your response, still eating the ice cream, his gaze still on you, he then chuckles quietly, shaking his head slightly 

"You are staring at me, love. Did I have food on my face?"  he teased, smiling slightly as he raised the cone of ice cream to his lips and took another bite.

“you're the one staring at me and then the window? I thought you want to say something”

"I'm not staring. I'm just taking glances every few seconds. Totally different."  he muttered, stubbornly looking out the window 

“hmm ofcourse” you said.

His pout deepens as he still refuses to look at you  

"Love, can I ask you something?"

 He asked, still looking out the window, but he sneaked a slight glance sideways at you, observing your face subtly.

“Yes bub”

He hesitates for a moment before continuing slowly and quietly  "You don't doubt me, right..."  he glanced at you again before looking out the window again, his expression slightly vulnerable for a split second. 

“About?”

He bites his lower lip slightly, nervous. He's obviously not sure of how to continue, he looks out the window again, before speaking up again 

"You don't.. Doubt that I will cheat, right... Or leave you... For someone else...?"

“Of course I don't doubt bub, but sometimes circumstances are not in our favour okay?”

He nods, but the vulnerability on his face is still there, he can't hide it even if he tries. He glances at you again 

"I know... But... You trust me, right? You trust that I won't ever cheat on you...?"

“I trust you with my blind eyes”

He smiles faintly at that, still looking slightly vulnerable. He's still not quite confident that you fully trust him, but at least these words give him some sense of security.

"Even with your blind eyes..."  he repeats in a soft, quiet voice, as if he's reassuring himself more than trying to reassure you.

“Yes even if you push me off the cliff i would believe it was because you wanted something good for me okay?”

He looks at you, his eyes widening slightly in shock at those words. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just staring at you with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and a hint of tenderness 

"Love... You can't say things like that. Stop being so loyal, it's dangerous"

“huh? What's wrong with being loyal and in love with my husband? Why is it dangerous?”

Shaking his head in disbelief. He looks exasperated and there's a slight hint of affection in his eyes at your words, 

"Love! You shouldn't say that. You shouldn't ever be loyal to someone, to anyone, to the point that you would still trust them if they pushed you off a cliff! That's way too much love!"

“It's not anyone gguk, it's you bub”

Rolling his eyes slightly. He can't help it, even your sweet words makes him want to playfully bicker a little,

"It doesn't matter if it's me or not. My point still stands, you're too loyal to me and it's dangerous"

“So what?”

He sighs, shaking his head in slight disbelief. There's a hint of fondness in his expression at your stubbornness,

"So what? So it's dangerous! What if I did something terrible huh? And you would still trust me even if I pushed you off a cliff or something. That's dangerous"

“hehe would you push me off a cliff?” you giggle at him.

He looks at you, his expression suddenly serious. He's silent for a moment, staring at you with a firm, intense look in his eyes 

"Of course not. Never. I would never do that. I would die before I'd push you off a cliff"

“ Exactly why I trust you”

In slight annoyance, his expression became slightly stubborn and annoyed. Despite how he's feeling, he can feel himself softening at your answer, 

"You shouldn't trust me that much though love, it's dangerous. You need to consider yourself more"

“hmm how about no?” you replied back knowing this will make him annoyed.

"No? No? You're supposed to listen to me love. And I'm saying it's dangerous and you shouldn't trust me that much. Your loyalty is going to get you hurt"

“What's wrong, is something bothering you?”

He sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly, 

"I... No, nothing is bothering me. It's just that, you're way too good for your own good, love. And I don't know what to do. You're so loyal to me that it's dangerous. It makes me worry..."

“Don't worry nor I'm being too much nor you”

Quietly looking at you with a slightly stubborn expression. Even though he claims he's not worried, the worry and concern is clear on his face

"I can't help but worry though. You're too loyal and loving, someone could take advantage of that"

“Do you trust me?”

He nods instantly, the stubbornness and slight annoyance fading away instantly.

"Of course, I trust you fully, darling. You know that. I'm worried about others using your loyalty to take advantage of you"

“I'm only like this with you. Do you believe me?”

His expression visibly softened, the stubbornness completely gone. He looks at you with a slightly tender expression and nods.

"Yes, I know you only act this loving and loyal with me. But that doesn't mean someone can't take advantage of you and your loyalty"

“I'm not close to anyone other than you bub, only trust you and no one else, don't worry”

He hums quietly, looking at you with a slight frown on his face, still worried 

"I know love. I know you're not close to anyone but me. That's what's worrying me. You only trust me, what if I do something to betray your trust one day?"

“Would you?”

He scoffs as if he can't believe you even asked him that. He looks at you with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief at your words 

"What? Of course not! I'm not going to betray your trust, you should know that!"

“Exactly I know that, that's why I trust you”

Looking away for a moment before looking back at you again. His annoyance is gone, and only a gentle stubbornness is present in his expression now.

"You shouldn't be so trusting. Just because you know I wouldn't betray your trust doesn't mean you shouldn't keep some boundaries. You shouldn't be this loyal to me, love"

“okay”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, he's a bit surprised that you actually seem to listen to him for once. 

"Okay? You're really going to listen to me for once? No arguing?"

You’re silent and watching out of the window.

He looks at you, slightly surprised at your quietness. Usually, you'd be arguing with him right now, refusing to listen to what he said. But you're just quiet now, a mixture of annoyance and fondness visible on his face 

"You're being surprisingly obedient right now love"

 He looks at you with a hint of curiosity, trying to figure out what's going on inside your head right now. He's never seen you be this obedient and quiet before 

"You're usually more stubborn than this. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, love?"

You smirk but don't say anything staying silent the whole time.

Slightly irritated with your sudden silent stubbornness. He's used to your usual feisty personality, and this sudden quietness is throwing him off.

"Love, stop being like this, it's strange. You should be arguing with me right now, it feels weird to not have you fighting back with me"

He reaches out without thinking, grabbing your chin gently and pulling your face closer to him so he can examine your expression closely 

"Love, talk. Why aren't you arguing with me? You're usually so stubborn, and now you're quiet. It's driving me crazy"

 When you remain silent, his grip on your chin slightly tightening as he pulls your face even closer to him, his gaze narrowing in frustration 

"Stop being quiet. I don't like it. Talk. Now."

He looks at you, his fingers still holding onto your chin, his expression becoming slightly angry as you continue to stay silently stubborn. Again, trying to keep his annoyance in check but failing miserably. His deer eyes stare into your making it difficult to ignore him.

"Love, either talk or I'll kiss you. Which one is it going to be?"

He's becoming increasingly frustrated with your continued silence. Without giving you any time to respond and grabs your chin tighter, pulling your face even closer so you're mere inches away from him, his gaze darkened with annoyance and a hint of desire 

"Fine. You want to be stubborn? Then I'll just force you to open your mouth. And I won't mind if I have to kiss you to do it"

“Your ice cream” you said pointing at his ice cream.

Rolling his eyes at your response, he loosens his grip on your chin slightly 

"Forget my ice cream. I have something sweeter in sight right now"

“My mouth's bitter rn”

 he scoffs, his grip still on your chin, looking at you with a slight smirk, his gaze darkened 

"Oh yeah? I highly doubt that. I bet your mouth is sweet as honey, love"

“No it's bitter rn”

He tuts, shaking his head slightly, his smirk still in place. He leans in, his face even closer to yours, his lip almost touching yours 

"Is that so? Well, I'll have to see for myself. I think I should taste your mouth and see for myself"

“It's bitter because my husband thinks I shouldn't trust him”

His grip on your chin tightening slightly  "That's not the point, love. I don't mind you trusting me, I just don't want you to be too loyal. There's a difference"

“There is no such thing as too much loyalty” you said with sass.

"Yes, there is love. You're too loyal, it's dangerous. You should have some boundaries, you shouldn't be so trusting and loyal to me that you'd go to the extremes if I asked you to"

“It’s my choice” 

"That's exactly my point, love. You're willing to do anything I say even if I don't ask. You shouldn't be this loyal. What if I ask you to do something bad? Or what if I push you too far? You're too trusting, love. You should have some boundaries"

“I don't care”

His expression darkened even more, his eyes filled with annoyance and frustration.

"Damnit love, you're pissing me off. Stop being so stubborn. You can't just trust me with anything and everything. You need to set some boundaries. Damnit, I'm trying to look out for you"

“And I'm looking out for you”

His expression visibly softened slightly. His grip on your chin loosens a little, and his glare fades a little.

"Love, you don't have to look out for me. I can look out for myself. You're the one who's a saint, you don't need to worry about me"

'Me, a saint?’

He rolls his eyes at your question, his expression becoming annoyed again. 

"Of course you're a saint. You're too loyal and loving. You're willing to overlook all my mistakes. You're too good for your own good and you're too loyal to me. You're a saint"

“If I'm a saint then what are you?”

"Me, I'm far from a saint. I'm flawed and human, I make mistakes and I shouldn't be trusted. I don't deserve your saint-like trust and loyalty, love"

“Then what do you deserve?”

He looks away for a moment, his expression almost sullen and vulnerable for a split second before he snaps back to his usual expression 

"I don't deserve anything good, love. I know that I don't deserve you. I know I'm far from being worthy of your loyalty and love"

“Then what do I get?” you annoy him with you questions.

He's trying to keep his annoyance in check, but he's struggling a bit 

"Nothing. You don't get anything, love. I don't deserve you but I'm too damn selfish to let you go."

“I don't get anything too?” he looks adorable being angry at you both you’re doing this so it can end how he wants.

"No, you don't get anything, love. I'm too damaged and broken to give you anything good. You shouldn't waste your time and love and loyalty on someone like me"

“so what should I do”

"You should... Stop caring about me. Stop loving me. And find someone better" oh he didn’t dare.

You close the gap between both of you.

He's briefly startled by your sudden movement but quickly regains his composure. His grip on your chin tightens again, and he looks almost taken aback by your sudden close proximity 

"Love, what-what are you doing?"

“Can you watch me? someone else kissing me, hugging me, touching me? Huh?” you ask in a challenging tone.

He looks at you, confusion and anger flaring up in his eyes at the thought of someone having their hands on you, their lips on yours.

"No. No, I can't watch that. No one can touch you like that. You're mine."

“Then how could I ever find someone better when the best is my own husband”

He blinks for a moment, slightly startled by your words. Your words take him by surprise, he wasn't expecting that. He looks at you, a mixture of confusion and frustration still visible in his eyes, but there's a hint of vulnerability now 

"Love, I'm far from the best. I'm broken and damaged, I'm not the best choice for you"

“Then who is? you're my husband mine I didn't marry you blindfolded I married you because I knew what's best for me”

His face becoming slightly softer, the anger and irritation slowly fading away and being replaced by a mixture of vulnerability and tenderness 

"I know you married me by choice, love. But I'm not good for you. You shouldn't be so loyal to me, I don't deserve it. You deserve someone better"

“Someone better? What if he cheats on me, lies to me, betrays me?” a brief flicker of anger appearing in his eyes. 

"Someone better, love. Someone who isn't as flawed and selfish as I am. Someone who isn't as possessive and broken as I am. Someone who isn't damaged and has the capacity to love you better than I can"

“Jungkook there is no one as good as a man you are, no one else” he looks away for a moment, struggling to maintain his firm stance and not let himself soften against your words.

"Love, you're too loyal. You see me through rose-colored glasses. I'm far from a good man, love. You need to see me for who I really am and stop being so loyal and loving towards me. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment" okay now he is saying too much. 

“If I'm setting myself for disappointments then let it be I choose that myself not you”

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love. You're too good for your own good. You shouldn't willingly set yourself up for disappointment, you should have standards and boundaries. You shouldn't be so naive or naive to trust and love me like this"

“Then why should I not love you when I actually love you, not care for you when I'm always worried about you, not love you , hug you, kiss you?”

He becomes even more frustrated, conflicted between his own desire for your love and loyalty and his belief that you deserve better.

"Damnit love, you're too loyal and giving. You shouldn't love me, you shouldn't care for me, you shouldn't love me or kiss me or hug me. You should have some boundaries, some standards for yourself"

“I will decide my boundaries and isn't love limitless , boundless?”

“Of course, love is boundless and limitless, but that's not the point. You're too good to me, you're too loyal and naively trusting. You're putting your own well-being at risk by loving me too much"

“There is no such thing as loving too much”

"Yes there is, love. You're loving me too much. You're going to the extremes and putting yourself and your own well-being at risk by being so fiercely loyal and loving towards me"

He knows earlier you should be close to your family you left them for him. you used to go on dinner with friends, trips, shopping sprees with them and now no one even calls you because you know they are gonna badmouth and insult your husband for no reason.

Now you just go from home to office and back home again because you broke relationships with anyone who said even the slightest insult to him.

This wedding is when you met your family after 6 months of contact and he made you leave again without eating with them. He knows you can't tolerate anyone speaking rudely to him so he tried to keep his emotions in check. but earlier he just burst and now those feelings are rising again.

“Well this is my love and you're stuck with me. you don't get any options to get out of it”

Your words make his heart flutter, but he tries to keep his demeanor firm and controlled.  "You don't know how annoying it is to know that you love me so fiercely and loyally. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you, not the other way around"

“No, we love each other right?”

Your words soften him for a moment, his expression becoming more vulnerable and tender. 

"Yes, love, we love each other. But you're being too loving, too loyal, too fierce in your devotion. I'm not worthy of it, love. I'm not good enough for you"

“If we love each other and we care for each other then we also protect each other, understand?”

He wants to argue, but your words make it difficult to argue. 

"Yes, love, I understand. We protect each other. But you're being too vulnerable, too exposed, too loyal. You're putting yourself at risk by loving me so fiercely"

“Guess what, I don't care,”  you said without any emotion in your voice. 

How can he argue against you when you're so fiercely loyal? 

"Love, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You're too willing to give yourself up, you don't care about yourself. You're too damn loyal"

“Deal with it, your ice cream is melting”

Your words snaps him out of his momentary vulnerability 

"Love, I swear you're such a handful. Forget my ice cream, I have a more stubborn and difficult sweet thing in front of me now"

“I bought it so you can eat it while you watch out of the taxi and relax, take your thoughts of stress for a while but you...

You pause for a while deciding to tease him even more.

“Jungkook?”

He looks at you with a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and affection in his eyes 

"What? What do you want now, love?"

“Do you have anyone else?” you know he is gonna be pissed. 

He blinks in surprise at your question, his expression becoming slightly taken aback. He looks at you, slight disbelief in his eyes 

"What? What kind of question is that? Of course, I don't have anyone else. Why would you even think that?"

“Why would you say that I'm too loyal you should be happy that I'm loyal not scared that I'm loyal, it's giving me some dangerous thoughts”

His hand resting on your hip "Love, you're overanalyzing my words. I just meant that you're taking it too far. You're being overly loyal, it's worrisome"

“Yeah I'm taking it too far” You decide to shut up for the whole ride.

Slightly amused by your sudden decision to be silent. He glances at you, a hint of a mischievous smirk forming on his lips. 

"Oh, decided to be quiet, love? It's a miracle."

The silence in the car made him feel both comfortable and restless simultaneously. The only sound in the car is the hum of the engine and the soft sounds of the city outside. He steals glances at you, his expression becoming conflicted again as he fights against the urge to start another argument 

Again, the silence in the car became almost unbearable. He can't take it anymore, the need to talk to you and hear your voice is too strong 

"Love, why are you being so silent now? You were being so stubborn earlier, and now you're suddenly quiet?"

Growing more and more frustrated with your silence. He can't stand not knowing what you're thinking, it's driving him crazy. He looks at you, his expression pleading 

"Say something, love. Anything. Just talk to me. Don't keep silent like this"

You both reached home and you paid the taxi before Jungkook could open his wallet and you walked straight towards the elevator, ignoring him. He quickly follows you, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. He enters the elevator with you, standing close. He watches you intently, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern 

"Love, what's gotten into you? Why are you being so quiet like this?"

Watching you closely as the elevator ascends. The silence in the enclosed space feels deafening. He can't stand it, he needs you to talk to him 

"Come on, love. Say something. Don't keep giving me the silent treatment"

“Say I'm right”

He's caught off guard by your sudden demand 

"What? Of course you're right, love. You're always right"

“About this argument”

He doesn't want to admit it, but you're right and he knows it. 

"Fine, you're right about this argument. You're always goddamn right"

“say it like you mean it”

He looks at you, knowing that he has to concede defeat 

"You're right, love. You're always right. You have the high ground in this argument, and I know it. I was wrong"

“from your heart” you know you’re pushing it.

He sighs, knowing that he has to acknowledge your victory 

"Love, from the bottom of my heart, you're right. You've won this argument, fair and square. I was wrong, and I apologize"

“Apology not accepted” You decided to tease him, he ate your brain the whole ride.

He looks at you annoyed, not expecting you to reject his apology 

"What? Why not? What do you want from me, love? I just admitted that you were right!"

“You said I should not forgive you and keep boundaries right I'm doing just that”

His expression became conflicted again. He's caught in a stalemate, his own words coming back to haunt him 

"Damnit, love, you're really going to use my own words against me now? I was just trying to protect you, to set boundaries"

“ Exactly”

He feels trapped, knowing that he can't win this argument 

"Damnit, love, you're making this difficult. I can't win with you, can I? Even when I'm trying to protect you, you turn it against me"

“No not against you against your words”

Sighing in resignation as he realizes the irony of the situation 

"Love, you're really twisting everything I say, aren't you? I was only trying to protect you, to set boundaries. But now, you're using my own words to resist me"

"I'm not resisting you , you said to not care about me, don't love me blah blah blah" you unlock your penthouse.

He follows you into the penthouse, more frustrated and concerned, 

"Love, that's not what I meant, and you know it. I just don't want you to be so blindly loyal and devoted to me. You should have some standards and boundaries"

“ Exactly i've having boundaries right now”

"Love, you're being difficult. I never thought you'd use my own words against me like this. I'm just trying to protect you, to be the best husband possible"

“I'm always the one being difficult” he is just pissing you off now.

"Yes, love, you're always difficult, especially when it comes to protecting yourself. You're stubborn and loyal to a fault, and it drives me crazy"

“Yeah I'm at fault”

His tone is firm and serious,

"No, love, that's not what I mean. You're not at fault for being loyal and loving. It's one of the things I admire about you. But you need to have some boundaries, some limits, or you'll leave yourself completely open and vulnerable, and that worries me"

“I'm having right now but you're still behind me” you enter your bedroom after rooming your heels and jacket.

"Love, I'm not behind you because I'm trying to control you or smother you. I'm behind you because I worry about you. I want to protect you, to make sure you're safe and cared for"

“If you don't want me to be loyal then don't care about me at all” you said removing your shoes and jackets, walking in the bedroom. 

"Love, you know that's not possible. I can't just stop caring about you, no matter how hard I try. You're a part of me, and I can't just turn off my feelings like a switch"

“ Exactly gguk i can't stop being too loyal out of the sudden of just have boundaries out of the sudden”

"Love, you're right. I guess we're both stuck with each other's flaws, huh? You can't stop being too loyal, and I can't stop caring about you. I guess we're both doomed to drive each other crazy"

“Strip” you don’t want to run your mouth for baseless arguments anymore and get straight down to business.

He was surprised but amused at your command. He looks at you, a slight smirk forming on his lips, mission complete

"You want me to strip, love?"

“I won't repeat”

"Alright, love, you don't have to repeat yourself. Just know you're really testing my patience"

He starts to unbutton his shirt, watching you the entire time

“On the bed”

He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and drops it on the floor, revealing his toned chest. 

"Bed, huh? As you wish, love"

 He moves towards the bed, still watching you intently 

“Hand”

"Hand? You want my hand on the bed?" he says knowing well what you meant but he had to just make you more mad.

He places his hand on the bed, looking at you with a smirk 

“Give your hand to me,” you said calmly.

"Here you go, love. My hand is all yours"

“Both”

He extends both his hands towards you

"Both my hands, love. They're all yours"

You put the handcuffs on him.

He looks at you, a hint of a sly smile on his lips

"Handcuffs, love? You're really going all out tonight, aren't you?"

You locked that handcuff to another cuff and locked it to the headboard.

“As you wish, love. I'm all tied up and at your mercy now"

You get up and go into the closet, watching you as you disappear into the closet again. He's handcuffed to the headboard, his hands secured above his head, and he's curious about what you're up to in the closet.

"Love, what are you doing in there? Leaving me here all tied up and defenseless?"

His ears perked up at the sound of the shower turning on. He strains against the handcuffs, trying to get a glimpse of what you're up to.

"Love, are you taking a shower? Leaving me here all tied up while you're there rinsing off your perfect body without me?"

He kept blabbering, his words becoming a little more desperate and needy as the sound of the shower continued.

"Love, come on, this isn't fair. You can't leave me here all tied up while you're in there taking a nice, hot shower. I want to be in there with you, feeling the water on our skin together"

You come back with a full robe on and it touches your ankles.

His eyes widen as he sees you re-enter the bedroom. He watches you carefully, his expression a mix of anticipation and frustration as you approach him in a full robe 

"Love, you tease. You come back looking all innocent in that robe, knowing damn well what effect it has on me. It's torture"

You start to blow dry your damp hair ignoring him.

He becomes frustrated as he watches you blow dry your hair, completely ignoring him. His handcuffs rattle against the headboard as he tries to shift his position to get your attention.

"Love, you can't just ignore me like this. You're torturing me, you know that, don't you?"

Straining against the handcuffs, he says

"Love, stop ignoring me. You're driving me insane, and you know it. I'm handcuffed to the bed, completely defenseless, and you're just blow drying your hair like I'm not even here"

Watching you go back into the closet again. He's starting to feel more and more restless, his heart racing at the thought of what you might be getting

"What are you doing in there now, love? Coming up with more ways to torture me while I'm all tied up here?"

You bring back the dark black velvet box and he knows what's in it. his heart rate picking up at the sight of the velvet box. He knows exactly what's in it, and he can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation

"Love, you're bringing out the box. You're really going to use it now, aren't you?"

You took out some things like candles, blindfold, flogger, riding crop, and gag ball. Something which you’ve tried on him yet but you think it’s time.

He sees the assortment of items you've taken out of the box. His breath hitches in his throat as he tries to contain his anticipation

"Love, you're not holding back tonight, are you? You're bringing out all the toys, huh?"

His gaze shifts between the items you've retrieved and your smug expression. The handcuffs rattle against the headboard as he squirms in anticipation. 

"Love, you know exactly what you're doing to me right now. Teasing me with all those toys, keeping me tied up and at your mercy. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

His voice became more strained and pleading.

"Love, please, don't keep me in suspense. Use those toys on me. I'm at your mercy, completely at your mercy. Just do what you want with me, please. I can't take this anticipation anymore

“You talk too much” you said but internally you’re cooing at his desperation for you. 

"I'm sorry, love. I just can't help it. I'm so eager, so needy. I want you so badly, and I can't keep my words in anymore. Please, just touch me, use the toys on me, do whatever you want. I'm all yours. Just please, don't keep me waiting any longer"

His body jerked slightly at the touch of the crop on his abdomen. His muscles tense, and his breath hitches in his throat. you caress the crop on his abdomen.

"Ah, love. You know how sensitive I am there. You're driving me crazy. Please, don't tease me like this"

You tie the blindfold on his eyes, not too tight. his breathing becomes heavier as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, restricting his sight. He's completely at your mercy now, completely trusting and submitting to you

"Love, I can't see a thing now. Do what you want with me. I'm all yours to use and control"

His body trembles faintly as he adjusts to the loss of vision. He's completely dependent on your touch and direction now

"Love, this is torture. Not being able to see you, to see what you're doing, what you're going to do to me. It's driving me insane. Please, do something. Touch me, speak to me, just something, please"

His body shivers once more as he feels the crop tracing a path from his abdomen to his thighs. His breaths come in shallow, ragged bursts as he tries to contain his excitement 

"Ah, love. Your touch, it's so light, so delicate. Yet, it's driving me insane. I want more, I need more. Please, don't stop"

His body shakes violently at the unexpected strike of the flogger. A muffled gasp escaped his lips as the pain registers, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You’ve left a mark on him on the outer side of his left thigh.

"Ah, love. That was unexpected. You really know how to catch me off guard. Do it again, love. I want to feel more, I need more"

“Turn back” you command. 

 His body is still trembling from the last strike. His senses heightened and his body aching for more. 

"Love, you want me to turn my back to you? I don't mind. I'll do whatever you want"

“Butt up”  you’re not really in the mood to speak.

His cheeks flushed as he obeys your command. He turns around and gets on his hands and knees, presenting his butt to you.

His heart racing as he positions himself in the way you've ordered. The anticipation and excitement is building inside him. He feels completely exposed and submissive, just the way he likes it.  

Instead of the flogger he expected you're dripping candles on his cute butt. his skin burns slightly at the sensation of the hot wax drizzling on his sensitive skin. He gasps and hisses at the mixture of pain & pleasure.

He suddenly feels the flogger connecting with his skin, eliciting a louder gasp and a shudder from him. The combination of pleasure and pain is overwhelming, the sensations blending together in a heady mix that has him struggling to catch his breath.

The candle drips moving towards his back abandoning his butt, his body jerking slightly as the candle drizzles move and trails up his back. He arches his back involuntarily, his shoulders tensing with anticipation as he waits for the next sensation to come. The contrast between the burn of the wax and the pleasure of the flogger has him dizzy with need.

He doesn't notice but you're writing something with drips. His focus entirely on the sensations he's experiencing, completely immersed in the pleasure and pain. He doesn't notice the words you're writing on his back, lost in the moment and completely surrendering himself to your control.

You continue with the flogger, his body arching and twisting in response to the flogger. His breaths come in shallow, rapid gasps as he tries to process the sensations flooding his system. He doesn't know what's coming next, which makes it even more intense and enjoyable for him.

The crop is in front of his lips and he knows what to do, already knowing what you want him to do with the crop. Eager to please you, he opens his mouth submissively, his lips parting eagerly to accept the crop.

“You enjoy riling me up don't you pup?”

His voice coming out in a needy, submissive tone

"Yes, love. I do. I love riling you up, pushing your boundaries, testing your limits. It's a thrill for me, knowing that I can make you lose control. I want to please you, love. I want to be the one who makes you lose your mind with desire"

“hmmm you love being put in place right?”

"Yes, love. I love it when you put me in my place. I love it when you take control, when you make me submit to you. It's a turn on for me, knowing that I'm completely at your mercy"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Please, love. I want you to do whatever you want with me. I want to feel your touch, your control, your dominance. I want you to take me to the edge and beyond. I want to give myself to you completely, to surrender to your desires and wishes"

“okay count for me”

"Yes, love. I'll count for you. How many strokes do you want me to count?"

“How much you want to argue with me after I fill your stomach and buy you that cheap ice cream that you didn't even enjoy because you love running your mouth so much” you said in a dominant tone which caused him to gulp at your words. He knows he was out of line, and he's ready to accept his punishment

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have argued with you after you filled my stomach and bought me that ice cream. I shouldn't have run my mouth so much. I think I deserve 20 strikes, love. Is that adequate enough for my disobedience?"

You don’t reply using words and directly strike.

He lets out a gasp of air, the breath leaving his lungs in a sharp exhale. He counts aloud, his voice shaky and breathless.

"One"

He braces himself for the next strike, his body tensing in anticipation. The sensation of the lash against his skin is intense, sending a wave of pain and pleasure through his body. He counts aloud again, his voice filled with both need and love. his voice coming out in ragged pants as he struggles to catch his breath. There are tears in his eyes, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him. His face is vulnerable and contrite.

The blindfold was soaked with sweat and tears. He can feel the cloth sticking to his skin, and it's hard to see through the moisture. But his body is aching for more.

“Turn back again”

He is still lost in the sensations and the pain. But he does as he's told, turning around and presenting his body to you once more. The stinging pain on his back serves as a reminder of his obedience and submission to you. He closes his eyes, his breaths coming in shallow,  gasps.

You lean down and licks his tears, his body shuddering at the sudden, intimate touch of your tongue on his tears. He lets out a soft gasp, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. you move south on his neck to continue your licks, his breath catching in his throat at your intimate gesture. The sensation of your tongue on his skin is both soothing and arousing, and he finds himself unable to move from you. He craves your touch, your attention, your presence, and he can't help but let out a soft, needy moan.

You roam your hand around his chest to calm him down, his body relaxing under the gentle touch of your hand roaming across his chest. The sensations are soothing and calming, and he leans into your touch, seeking more of the comfort and reassurance it provides. letting out a soft sigh of relief as his breathing gradually steadies.

But that calmness is gone the moment you put the gag in his mouth, His breathing quickens, his body tense with anticipation. Now silenced, he can only rely on you to guide him and give him what he needs.

You picked up the remote and turned the aircon to the coolest temperature. feeling the chill of the air conditioner hitting his skin. His muscles tense slightly, and he shivers involuntarily, his body craving some kind of warmth and comfort. He tries to relax as his body adjusts to the colder temperature.

You roam your hand around his abs, His body responds to your touch, his muscles tensing involuntarily as your fingers trail across his abdomen. He's completely vulnerable in his tied-up state, unable to do anything but receive your touch and react to it.

“My husband is the most perfect man to exist. Do you agree?”

Despite the restriction of the gag, he nods his head enthusiastically, making you soft.

“My husband doesn't have any flaws, agree?”

He's fully focused on communicating his unwavering acceptance and agreement to your words.

“Who is my husband?” You ask and removes his gag, the first thing that comes out of his mouth when you remove the gag is

“I'm your husband, love”

His voice is breathless and filled with a mixture of reassurance and obedience,

“Do you agree?”

His voice is firm and determined as he replies "Yes, love. I do. I wholeheartedly agree. I am yours, completely and utterly. Your husband, your partner, your submissive, your possession. I belong to you, love"

"Do you agree with all of the above?"

His voice now becomes more submissive and obedient as he repeats his agreement "Yes, love, I agree with all of the above. I am your most admirable man, your most perfect man, your husband without a single flaw. I agree to it all, with all my heart and soul, love"

You put the gag back in his mouth, silencing him once more, you smack the crop on his chest, exactly on his defined peck. you move the crop under his chin and lift his chin up with it "you're the best choice for me, do you agree?"

Forcing him to look up at you. Despite the gag, he manages to nod his head, his actions conveying his complete agreement to your question. He's fully submitted to you, willing to agree to anything you ask.

"I am always right, agree?"

a muffled “yes” coming from behind the gag. Despite the restriction of his words, there’s no denial or disagreement in his eyes. He fully submits to your assertion, silently agreeing with your words.

"Do you love me the most?"

Though unable to speak, his body language communicates his unreserved agreement. He nods vigorously, the love and devotion in his gaze evident and clear for you.

"You're in any situation in the world, you'd tell me and not hesitate?" He nods his agreement. Even in the most extreme or dangerous scenarios, he'd never hesitate to come to you and seek your comfort and guidance, no matter what.

You remove his blindfold for the last question but keep his gag in, he blinks, his eyes adjusting to the sudden influx of light. The blindfold is gone now, but the gag is still firmly in place, preventing him from speaking. His gaze is fixated on you, his eyes wide and full of expectancy as he waits for the last question

"you would let me be too in love, too loyal to you to the point I'll do anything for you, right?"

His body quivering under the weight of his submission and devotion. The gag makes it impossible for him to verbally express the depths of his feelings, but his eyes speak volumes. They convey his love, loyalty, and unconditional surrender to you, promising that he'd embrace and relish you of being "too in love" and "too loyal" with no reservations or limits. He accepts defeats and nods repeatedly.

You remove his gag and whisper "mine" before locking lips, kissing your husband in a nasty manner, there is drool, sweat, tears all over his face but you don't mind.

He melts into the kiss, completely submitting to your dominance. The taste of sweat, tears, and drool mingle with the sweetness of your lips, sending waves of passion and pleasure through his body. He gives himself completely to you, his love and devotion fully on display, as he pours every ounce of his being into the kiss. He's utterly and hopelessly yours

You kiss his forehead and get rid of the cuffs, his wrists aching slightly from the prolonged confinement. But the pain is nothing compared to the waves of pleasure and sensation coursing through his body as you kiss his forehead. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with gratitude and love, as he whispers.

"Thank you, love."

He gently rubs at his wrists, and still feels the lingering sensation of the leather against his skin. Despite the soreness, he feels a strange sense of comfort and satisfaction, knowing that he's given himself completely to you. a soft gasp escaping his lips as you take his wrist and gently kiss it. The ointment, coupled with your touch, sends a soothing feeling through his skin. He watches you lovingly as you apply the ointment, his heart swelling with affection and gratitude for your care and attention.

“Lay down on your stomach”

His body tensing slightly as you apply the ointment on his back and butt. The cool sensation of the ointment provides a soothing relief for his battered skin, and he lets out a soft sigh of contentment at your gentle touch.

Jungkook notices you wrote something on his back, He craned his neck slightly to try and see over his shoulder, but it was impossible for him to view the words himself.

"Love, what did you write on my back?"

You smirk at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices your smirk. He knows that look all too well, and it usually means you're up to something. He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation in his gaze

"You wrote something, didn't you? Come on, tell me. I'm curious now"

'Too Damn Loyal'

A mixture of surprise and amusement passes through his expression, and he lets out a soft chuckle as he repeats,

"Too damn loyal, huh?"

He can't help but laugh a little at the words. 

“Since you have a problem with me being too damn loyal , here is a reminder that I'm too damn loyal always”

A smile spreads across his face as he processes your words. He turns around, looking at you over his shoulder as he responds 

"I don't have a problem with you being too damn loyal, love. In fact, it's one of the things I love most about you."

 He lets out a soft laugh 

"But I can't deny that the reminder on my back is a nice touch."

You don't reply to anything busy with applying ointment. his expression softens as he gazes at you. His tone is adamant and earnest as he shakes his head

"No, love, I don't have a problem with it. I love your loyalty, your faithfulness, your commitment. It's endearing and admirable, and I wouldn't change it for anything."

“Kooks”

A fond grin spreads across his face as you call him by his nickname. It's a term of endearment that he loves hearing from you, and it never fails to make him feel special and loved 

"Yes, love?"

“I would jump off a cliff anytime just so you know, hehehe”

you giggle as you look at him being worried.

His smile fading immediately as your words sink in. A look of concern crosses his face, his eyes widening at your statement 

"Don't. Say. That."

His voice is firm and authoritative, laced with a hint of worry. The thought of you harming yourself, even for his sake, is absolutely unbearable for him. Even though he knows you're joking right now, that is still not acceptable for him.

You continue laughing behind his back.He can tell that you're being playful and slightly joking, but the thought of you endangering yourself for his sake is no laughing matter

"I'm serious, love. Don't even joke about it. I would never, ever want you to harm yourself, no matter the reason, do you understand?"

He was again getting serious so you decided to shut him up by pressing your lips on his, his initial stern expression faltering as you planted a kiss on his lips. He melts into the kiss, his body responding to your touch. But when you part, he pulls back slightly, staring at you with a serious look.

"Promise me, love. Promise me you won't say or do anything like that, even in jest. I need your word."

"The bath would be ready for you by now, get your ass in the tub" A mixture of surprise and amusement flitting across his face at your command. But he's also relieved that you're changing the subject, realizing you're not taking this seriously.

"Alright, alright. I'll get my ass in the tub."

“Yes your cute ass” His cheeks heated up slightly at your compliment. Despite himself, he can't help but be slightly flustered by your comment, and he can't suppress a small, bashful smile

"Are you implying that you're only sending me to the tub so you can admire my 'cute ass'?"

“And what if I am?”

A smirk forming on his face as he realizes that you're playing this game. He decides to play along, a hint of teasing entering his voice

"Are you that addicted to my 'cute ass' then, love? Can't keep your eyes off it, even in the bathroom?"

“Love it so much I would”

His smirk grows wider at your confession. He steps closer to you, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper

"Is that right? You love it so much, you'd even watch me in the tub, huh?"

“I always keep staring at it in public” you admit what you fantazise about him.

A look of mock surprise passed through his face. He leans in even closer, his body almost touching yours as he replies in a low voice

"Is that why you never complain about me wearing tight jeans, love? You like the view, don't you?"

"Love it", you sent him a flying kiss.

His grin widening at your admission. He reaches out and gently grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him, so that your bodies are pressed together.

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my assets, love. I'll make sure to wear them more often for you, then" laughing softly as you drag him to the tub. He follows willingly, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his.

"Looks like we're having a bubble bath tonight, huh, love?"

“We no?, you need to get the wax off”

nodding in agreement. He steps into the bathtub, lowering himself into the water. The warm water envelops his skin, providing a soothing sensation. He leans back against the tub, eyes closed in relaxation.

"You're right, I need to get the wax off. Mind helping me with that, love?"

"sure bun" a soft smile spreading across his face as you agree to help. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded in relaxed anticipation as he responds,

"Thank you, love. I appreciate your help. This wax stuff feels weird, but I trust you to take care of it."

"Sorry I didn't ask you before using it, it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry bun"

Shaking his head slightly, he replies

"It's okay, love. I know you didn't have bad intentions. And honestly, I don't mind trying new things with you. Just maybe give me a heads up next time, so I'm prepared, yeah?” he says, despising your worries.

"Sorry about this mess" you said scrubbing the wax off, he gives a slight shrug

"It's alright, love. Accidents happen, especially when we're trying new stuff. Don't worry too much about it. I'm more concerned about getting this wax off me, it's starting to feel uncomfortable"

"No I mean sorry about always being right, getting into fights because of it"

A small smile appears on his face. Though your stubbornness and insistence on being right can be frustrating at times, he also finds it endearing. He reaches out and takes your hand, gently squeezing it affectionately

"Ah, that. I admit, it can be a pain in the ass when we fight because of that. But you know I wouldn't change it, right? I love that fierce determination in you, even when you're insisting on being right. It's one of the things that makes you, well, you."

"No other man would tolerate me, only you gguk"

A soft chuckle escaping his lips. He gazes up at you, his expression filled with affection and love

“Exactly, no one else would be able to handle your stubborn, bossy, and feisty attitude. But I don't mind it, love. In fact, I sort of enjoy it, even though it drives me crazy sometimes."

“Sorry" you apologize knowing you are at fault as well.

"Don't apologize, love. Like I said, I don't mind it. Besides, it keeps things interesting, right? If you were always obedient and easy to handle, it would be so damn boring."

“I guess you're right”

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right" he teases you.

Once he is out of the tub you apply his favorite lotion, a content sigh leaves his lips as he feels the cool lotion against his skin. The relief of the wax being removed, coupled with the soothing touch of the lotion, is incredibly pleasant.

"Mmm, love, that feels so good right now. The lotion smells amazing too."

You again came back with the ointment which got washed up by the water, a slight wince escaping him as the ointment touches his raw skin. The area is still a little tender from before, but the cool ointment provides some relief.

"Ah, that stings a little bit. But I know it's necessary. I'll try to stay still as you apply it, love."

"Wear your clothes, I'm making the bed," you said, handing him the towel. Nodding his head in understanding he takes the towel from you

"Alright, love, I'll get dressed. You go ahead and take care of the bed. I'll be there in a moment." He quickly dried himself off and got dressed. Once he's done, he walks over to the bedroom, where he finds you making the bed.

Approaching you at the bed he watches silently for a moment, a small smile on his face as he observes you tidying up the blankets and pillows. Stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind, his chest pressed against your back.

"Everything looks nice and neat, love. You always manage to make our bed look so inviting."

Gently nuzzling his face against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin. The closeness and intimacy of the moment, coupled with the comfort of the made bed, brings a sense of peace and contentment to him

"I can't wait to crawl into bed with you, love. It's been a long day, and I could really use some cuddles with my favorite person."

"hmm only cuddles?"  a sly smile forming on his lips at your question. He knows what you're implying, but he feigns innocence, playing along with your game.

"Only cuddles? Yeah, just cuddles. Why did you have something else in mind, love?"

"No nothing bun, let's cuddle"

He laughs at your response. He knows you're being cheeky, but he decides to go along with it for now, knowing that cuddles are always a welcome comfort.

"Alright, love, just cuddles it is. I'd never say no to snuggling up with you in bed."

He pulls you closer, a content sigh escaping his lips as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. his tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth and comfort of your body against his feels like a soothing balm after a long day. He plants gentle kisses on your neck, trailing up to your ear as he whispers, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmm... I could stay like this forever, love. Just holding you in my arms, feeling your soft skin against mine."

The feeling of your body against him and the sound of your soft sighs in his ear stirring something deep within him. He can't resist the urge to kiss your neck again, his lips moving in slow, languid kisses along the nape of your neck

"You're so damn addictive, love. You know that? I can never get enough of your scent, your touch, your presence. It's like you're a drug, and I'm completely addicted to you."

You brush his fluffy silky locks helping him relax, the feeling of your touch combined with the relaxing effect after the bath has an almost instantaneous calming effect on him. He feels his eyelids grow heavy, a wave of drowsiness washing over him.

"Mmm, that feels so good, love. Your touch always makes me feel so relaxed."

His arms loosen slightly, his body becoming limp against you as he drifts off into dreamland. A content, peaceful expression settles on his face, his lips slightly parted as he sleeps soundly.

"love" softly mumbling in his sleep as you brush your hands through his luscious, fluffy hair. The gentle, rhythmic motions of your touch create a soothing lullaby for him, deepening his slumber. He nuzzles his face further into your shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth even in his sleep

"I love you to death bub" you confess, his sleeping figure unable to respond to your declaration of love. But perhaps, even in his dreams, he can sense your presence and the depth of your affection for him. The smile that plays at the corners of his lips may be a silent affirmation of his love for you in return.

His peaceful, sleeping form snuggled up against you looks even more adorable in the soft lighting of the room. The relaxed expression on his face, with his slightly parted lips and soft, even breaths, makes him look almost ethereal. His features, free from any tension or worry, showcase his true beauty and innocence, making him your perfect man.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN 14 Bonus SS (Shosen / Horindo)

Series: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Source: Light novel volume 14, Bonus paper Store: Shosen / Horindo Synopsis: Alan's POV of Prince Mary's rescue in Chapter 1 of LN14. Translation: maboroshi-no

Translation below ⮟

I, Alan Stuart, was greatly troubled at the moment.

Today was the Sorcier Foundation Anniversary party and many foreign visitors had come for the occasion.

Because of this, the greetings queue was enormous and I was considerably exhausted by the end of it.

Even so, it was still nice while I was greeting people. Even if I was approached to some extent, there would still be a next person, so they would leave me for the time being.

The truly difficult part was after the greetings.

When the greetings ended and my family all split up, they came to me.

Foreign Noble Lady: Prince Alan, let's talk.

Foreign Noble Lady: Prince Alan, I am…

The ones who said this and snuggled up to me all at once were foreign noble ladies.

The foreign noble ladies were beautifully dressed up in their countries' dresses, and their eyes were full of confidence.

"I will make the prince mine". Strong women like them who gave off that kind of aura were hard for me to deal with.

Though, it was not like I hated strong women themselves. I had a fondness for very strong ones who worked hard towards their goals.

But women who snuggled up and appealed their charms to the other person even if they didn't want it were a no-go for me.

Even when I clearly gave off signals that their advances weren't welcome, they completely ignored me and still pushed on. I couldn't understand their nerve.

But in times like this, I had no ability to gracefully handle the situation and chase away the ladies.

"In times like this, if it were like always…".  When I unconsciously wandered my gaze, reddish brown hair caught my eyes and I stopped on it.

There, I saw my fiancée Mary Hunt, a marquis's daughter, happily engaged in a conversation.

Mary was my fiancée in name only and a reliable friend. At a time like this, she would always promptly save me.

I was well aware that I would normally need to shake a leg and somehow handle them myself but I was exhausted from the greetings, so I ended up asking her for help with my eyes.  

Our eyes met with a snap and Mary frowned. She was probably thinking, "What a bother".

I knew that much about her. Even so, Mary was good at looking after people, so she gallantly headed my way.

Mary: How do you do, Prince Alan?

Mary came in front of me and said this to me. Then, she turned her gaze to the ladies swarming around me.

Mary: Pleased to meet you, ladies. I am Prince Alan's fiancée, Mary Hunt.

After saying this and smiling, she made a very beautiful curtsy.

Mary was praised as the Belle of High Society and the Model Noble Lady. Her beauty and beautiful gestures made some noble ladies flinch, and they awkwardly greeted her and left. 

But there was a strong one in the lot.

Foreign Noble Lady: Oh, my. So you are his politically arranged fiancée. In my country, it is now considered good to fall in love and marry your true love. Don't you think so, Prince Alan?

After saying this, she gave Mary a provocative smile, then made eyes at me.

While thinking that she really was a no-go type and pondering how to reject her, 

Mary: Fufufu. Marrying your true love is indeed wonderful. 

Mary smiled and replied this.

Foreign Noble Lady: Oh, so Miss fiancée thinks so too. In that case…

As the noble lady happily smiled after receiving Mary's approval, Mary promptly moved next to me, entwined her arm around mine, and moved her body close.

Mary: Yes, and that's why we are not betrothed for political reasons but because we truly love each other. If you consider it wonderful, then I would ask you not to get in our way.

After Mary had said this with a wide smile and a pressure that wouldn't allow any objection, even the strong noble lady was agape and lost for words.

Mary seemed intent on acting like we were fiancés in love to chase away the noble ladies.

In times like this, I could only leave things to Mary. I emptied my mind so I could just follow her lead.

Foreign Noble Lady: What, but, according to the rumor…

With her face red, the obstinate noble lady tried to voice out some more words, but then, Mary moved her body even closer to mine. It completely was lovers' proximity at this point.

Then, while completely leaning against me, Mary made a bewitching smile.

I did my very best to keep my mind blank so I wouldn't think of the soft things pressing against my body.

Mary: Can I ask you not to get in our way?

When Mary asked this one more time, even the stubbornly remaining ones left red-faced.

Once we couldn't see the noble ladies anymore, Mary quickly pulled away from me.

Mary: You will owe me one more favor.

She puffed out her cheek a little and said this.

Alan: Sure. I'm sorry, it's always like this.

When I dejectedly apologized for my weak spirit, Mary let out a little sigh.

Mary: It would be troublesome if such a bunch came again, so I will stay with you for a while.

She said this. At the end of the day, Mary really was good at looking after people.

Alan: I'm in your debt.

I really was no match for her.

Little did I know that afterward, my older brother's fiancée Katarina would show up, reveal my embarrassing facts to Mary, and make an even more shocking proposal.

[sammylbir]

Rewriting Teruteru Hanamura

Hey guys, today it's time for another rewrite post. That being about a certain chef.

That being Teruteru:

Teruteru Hanamura is probably one of the most disliked Danganronpa characters. I personally do like him as a character and want to improve him, so this post is for that. Keep in mind that those are just my ideas, so you don't have to agree with me. Okay? Let's do this.

Personality:

I'll tone his perverted behavior heavily down. Unlike in canon, this guy is a true gentleman and while he is very perverted still, he only keeps it for fun flirting and teasing. He is in general very friendly and approachable and also has a caring side, towards those he likes.

He is open about his interests in kinks, but he doesn't talk about that, during eating and when he is in the kitchen. Because in his mind, eating is supposed to be enjoyable and fun, with dirty jokes "not fitting to the menu".

His accent change, when he gets mad, remains too.

Appearance:

Okay, here I won't change too much. I'll adjust his height a bit and make him a bit taller and more plumb. Another thing I wanna add is that his belt is full of cooking supplies, like spatulas and whatnot and his hat is a bit bigger, which also stores some cooked meals.

How do they all fit into his hat? No clue. I am legally obligated, to not say anything about it/j

Past:

Teruteru had a diner with his mom and came from a poor background. The diner itself struggled at times, because of its remote location and the fact that the meals themselves aren't as "Flashy", as the ones in the big restaurants. Due to this, most critics who visit the place bash it and leave negative reviews.

Teruteru helped out in the diner as a kid, either to clean or to serve food himself. But his home life wasn't that happy either, because his father left the family, after Teruteru witnessed him in his bedroom cheating on his mom with another woman. He was 13 at the time and this even taught him, to treat women the right way. Adding to the fact that his dad was kind of a dick to his mom, he tried to become a gentleman of sorts, to not become like his dad. Like in canon, he has a few brothers, but those left with his dad, because he married a rich old woman for money. Something Teruteru can't forgive them for.

His perverted behavior and consumption of pornographic content, was due to him trying to cope with the divorce, because he did love his dad deep down and hated how mom had to do more work, because he wasn't there. Thanks to that, he also began to realise that he is attracted to men and women, a fact that bothered him for a long time. Until his mom found out and taught him that he didn't need to feel ashamed of how he felt.

Because he helped a lot in his mom's diner, so they can stay afloat, he did miss out on school mostly and his grades ranged from mediocre to atrocious, because he was busy with said work. Making his mom more worried about the future. Which is why Teruteru began to practice cooking more, to make sure that the diner can stay afloat and to possibly get more customers.

Koichi Kizakura, the scout at the time, discovered Teruteru when he went to dine there, after a long hard day of work. He then offered him that if he were to join HPA, then they'd finance his mom's diner. Of course, Teruteru accepted and willingly joined them, to make sure to become a better cook and so mom doesn't have to worry about his future.

Other Facts:

-Teruteru can cook most meals really well, except for omelette. For some reason, he seems to be struggling with making those and he tries to avoid making them, whenever he can.

-While he is open for most kinks, he draws the line with non-consensual stuff.

-Apart from cooking, he does like fashion trends and keeps up with them at all times.

-He sometimes tries to slip from gym class and math class, so he can work on his cooking skills. Keyword being: "Tries".

-He can speak a bit of italian and french, which he picked up from some of the customers.

And that's it. I hope ya liked this post and please like and reblog, if you appreciated my ideas for our dear chef. Till next time!

[nicosraf]

Could you speak a little bit about your approach with the female humans in A&M?

Miriam seems happy or at least secretly pleased to wed Armoni who married her against his will through force and coercion. Idith and Samyaza had some dubcon and even a bit of non-con going on. The men in your story (and people in real life) blame Eve and label women as sinners/evil.

Satan and the demons often use 'she/her' pronouns. Even Samyaza, a character which many readers are frustrated with for the hypocrisy, has a femme and sapphic reading.

A lot of current retellings usually have a "feminist" spin or at least an attempt to give their female characters more agency. You seem to have a somewhat more authentic take but instead of choosing sides of good and evil your characters seem to exist is a deep morally gray area (at least that is how I read them).

Anyways, I was just wondering how you decided to interpret the female characters?

Hello! It's pretty straight forward actually! I was just more interested in trying to depict women, like those in my real life, authentically than anything else. My mother is a good person, but she's also a bad person at times, the same goes for my sister, my other female relatives, and all my women friends, though I'll admit I based most of the women in A&M off my female relatives.

I think A&M's feminist narrative is glaringly obvious and simple at times, but I didn't want to do "women good, man bad," even if some characters — like the Watchers — have this reading. Women in real life perpetuate sexism and do wrong things all the time, and that doesn't make them not victims of patriarchy. Eve isn't suddenly not-a-victim because she hurts one of her children. (And ABM is about this too: you can be a victim and do bad things. You can be a victim of abuse and an abuser.) (Point 2: I think your commitment to a cause shouldn't rest on your perceived moral purity of those you support; womens wrongs don't negate the need for womens rights)

I realize women characters will be judged harsher. (I do always notice how Eitan and Idith are treated differently by some people!) I know women just existing in movies or books puts them under intense scrutiny. Here's the thing though: if someone is the type of person to scrutinize women characters, looking for a reason to hate them, then I don't really care about their enjoyment of my book in the first place.

Not that I should be the one dictating what feminism is or isn't, but I think I can say that one part of it is that women deserve to have all the gray complexity that male characters have and that the genderqueer angels/demons have.

Oh and I've seen the backlash against feminist retellings of myths lately (the "girlbossification") that I don't think I can comment on it too much given I am, you know, a man — but, for A&M, I wanted to depict humans fairly realistically, knowing this might make them seem simple, unlikable, weak, or even boring compared to the fantastical, long-lived gay angels. It's important to me because A&M is an introduction to humanity. My approach in Angels #3 will be different, but... you'll see.

TLDR: I like writing women, and femmes generally, who are flawed despite how much they may have suffered.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.44 Get your girl

I pissed off rude girl, and that was fun. I saw an old man do a headstand, and that was amazing. To top off an already awesome day, not only did the old man join me for guided meditation but also so many sims wanted to join the class, I had to turn some away! I hated doing that, but it was such a good problem to have. Sims were finally recognizing the benefit of quieting their thoughts and practicing mindfulness, and I loved to see it. But as fate always had it, my good fortune ended. I had a room full of sims who paid me to teach them how to focus and quiet their minds, yet I could not focus. I tried everything, but I just could not get there. Something in my life must not have been in order. Meditation would have been the perfect time to figure it out, but I had a room full of sims waiting for my prompts to guide them. I never liked to half ass things, but I was unable to do my job so I reused the clouds prompt again to get me through class. When it was over, I went to the sauna to relax and figure out why I couldn't focus. At first, I thought maybe it was this business with Yasmine coming back to haunt me, but I had already squashed that. I combed over everything and still could not figure it out, so I stopped trying. Sometimes I stressed myself out trying to solve things when what I really needed to do was relax, so that was exactly what I did. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and emptied my mind. A while later, someone joined me in the sauna and then another, so I figured it was time to leave. As soon as I stood up, it hit me. I had unfinished business and left the spa immediately to make things right with Maira.

She answered the door with the blankest of expressions.

"Hey..." I said uncomfortably.

"What do you want, Luca?"

Ouch.

"Look...I'm sorry for popping up like this. I know it's late, but can we talk?"

She nodded, let me in, but stood at the door as if she were prepared to throw me out if I said the wrong thing.

"I feel like I upset you, and that was not my intention."

She gestured toward the couch, finally, and we sat. I was going to continue with my apology, but she interrupted me.

"When you said I was your friend... That night...the fire...I know you felt something. How could you not?"

So we were going there, huh? I tried to bury those feelings, but maybe I was ready to talk about it with her. I'd been confessing a lot of that deep, hidden stuff to myself lately. Maybe this won't be too hard.

"I did," I said. "But... Things have been really complicated for me...in that way."

"Complicated how?"

I took a deep breath.

"I like you, Maira. I do. But I..."

I felt things slowly going off the rails, and I hadn't even said anything yet, so I took a different approach, hoping things would flow better.

"You're beautiful..."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Me?"

It was my turn to be surprised.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What? I don't get too many compliments like that. Most guys I dealt with were fans of my ass."

I couldn't help it, but I let out a tiny chuckle. Maybe it was the way she said it.

"I, uhhh...I will admit to also being a fan, heh. But I'm not just talking about your face. You're beautiful inside, too. If someone were to hold a SimRay to my head and say I had to get married right away or I'd die, you would be one of the women at the top of my list."

"Aww! Really?"

"Yeah... I said it was complicated because I feel that way about you...and someone else, to be honest. But I'm still afraid to make a move. My parents have been divorced my whole life, basically. I didn't have many examples of healthy, thriving relationships growing up. I still don't. And even now, as an adult, I keep learning things about my parents that make me even less sure about if I'm cut out for this. I don't want to end up like them, so it's easier to keep everyone at a distance until I figure myself out. But that's gotten harder and harder to do the more I get to know you all. I don't want to mess up."

She sat there, still listening, so I went on.

"When I said you were my friend, I wasn't trying to say that's how I saw you and we had zero chance of anything else. I was simply stating you are my friend, and I would always be here for you."

She nodded slowly.

"I knew your parents were divorced, but I didn't know you were still being affected by it. I guess it all makes sense now."

"I'm sorry if it felt like I was leading you on, or whatever. That wasn't my intention. I've been thinking about things a lot lately and trying to remember my parents' problems had nothing to do with me and I don't have to do what they did. So I've decided to give dating a try. Heh, according to my Dad, you and I may have been doing that this whole time. I don't want to be scared anymore. But I also don't want anything serious right now. I do want to find someone I'd be willing to get serious with, so...yeah. I'm dating."

"That's very good to know," she said. "I kinda feel the same way. I wasn't upset because I thought we were going somewhere because I'm not looking for anything too serious right now, either. I was upset because I thought you friend zoned me, and it just made me think about all the other guys I'd dealt with. I thought you were different...someone I'd like to be with when I am ready. But in that moment, I thought you were just like everyone else, taking what they want and throwing me away when it was convenient for them. That upset me because I just want to meet a good guy for once. So...yeah...I'm sorry I thought you were a llama snot."

I hadn't heard llama snot since we were kids. It made me smile.

"I'm sorry you've met so many douche bags."

She shrugged.

"You win some, you lose some. Speaking of losing... If you like this other girl, I think you should go for it and forget about me."

My stomach rolled.

"What? No. I could never forget about you. You're one of my best friends!"

"I don't mean cut me out of your life. I just mean, if you're waffling between her and me, choose her."

A tiny part of me was relieved she had taken herself out of the proverbial race because, if it came down to Maira and Sophia, I honestly didn't know how I'd choose. But I still didn't want to lose her. True, we were just friends and could remain friends. But the part of me that wanted more than that was sad.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, Luca! I know you say you're scared, and you think you're not ready, but you are! And you want it! I can see it in your eyes and in the way you behave. Just be with her. You'll be fine. I'm nowhere near ready for what you want, and I'm sorry if I lead you to believe I am. My family... I love them, but they are driving me nuts right now. My parents just had another baby, and my sister is pregnant again. And top it all off, my brother just got married."

"Who married him?" I asked in disgust.

She laughed because she knew I couldn't stand that guy.

"Malia."

My eyes widened that time.

"Malia Gallardo?"

The girl I used to like who liked my sister instead of me?

"Yep! They're ummm...they're interesting together... But anyway, with all these babies and marriages going on, everyone's looking at me like 'well???' and tapping on their fictitious watches. I just don't want any of that. At least not now. Maybe never! I don't know right now. But what I do know is I'm going at this much slower than you are, and I don't want to hold you back. So...go get your girl. And before you ask, yes we're still friends, yes, I want to see you from time to time, and yes, when you're ready, I'd like to meet her."

I didn't know what to say or even what to feel. What did she see in me that told her I was ready for a serious relationship? I wanted to see it too. I should have felt liberated, but I was still a little scared. Of what? I didn't know. Fear of the unknown, probably. I suppose that was healthy. Still, I wasn't prompted to go home and call Sophia.

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Writing Share Tag

Thank you to @kaylinalexanderbooks for tagging me!

Rules: Post some writing.

Recently added more to the childhood flashback in Untitled Teen Romcom. I'll post what I've got here:

Miss Jackson found me by the coat pegs, which only added to my embarrassment…but it turned out alright in the end. Here’s how it went down. So, after what felt like an eternity of uncontrollable sobbing, I heard her approaching footsteps. I tried to compose myself, wiping the tears and snot from my face with my sleeve. But it was too late.

“Ezekiel? What's the matter?” she asked, her warm voice laced with concern as she crouched down beside me.

I just shook my head, too embarrassed to speak. Miss Jackson pulled me into a gentle hug, letting me cry into her shoulder for a few moments before pulling back.

“Did something happen during lunchtime?” she prodded gently.

I nodded, the humiliation washing over me again. “I...I asked Hope Kamani to marry me,” I choked out between sniffles. “I just wanted to tell her that I liked her. But she just laughed at me in front of everyone! They all laughed!”

Miss Jackson's eyes widened briefly before her expression softened. “Oh Ezekiel, I'm so sorry that happened to you. She shouldn't have reacted that way, but I promise it will get better.”

“No it won't!” I cried petulantly. “She hates me! She probably thinks I'm a stupid baby.”

“You are not stupid or a baby,” Miss Jackson said firmly. “You are one of the brightest, kindest boys I know. And if others like Hope can't see that, then that's their loss.”

Hearing this made me smile. I don’t know if her words fully convinced me, but they did touch my heart. I guess I just appreciated her trying to make me feel better. To this day, this comment from Miss Jackson stuck with me for this specific reason. I think people just like knowing that they are cared for and that they aren’t alone. 

After lunch was done, and everyone in our class started to head back inside, Sebastian caught up with me. 

"Zeke!” he called, rushing towards me. I noticed that his usual smile was replaced with a look of genuine concern.

I tried to smile back, although it probably wasn’t all that convincing (my eyes were still filling up with fresh tears, after all). “Hey, Seb.”

“There you are, mate. Are you okay?”

I shook my head dismally. Seb sighed, and put his arm around my shoulders as we headed away from my little hiding place at the coat pegs. Once settled on the reading rug, he grabbed a bucket of LEGOs, pouring a ton of the colourful plastic bricks on the floor in front of us. 

“Don't worry about Hope, Zeke,” he said definitively. “We're gonna spend the rest of the day building the sickest spaceships and you’re going to forget all about her!”

I snorted. “Who needs a wife when you have a LEGO spaceship?”

“Exactly! You get it.”

As we started constructing our LEGO creations, I slowly felt the sting of rejection and embarrassment start to dull. With Miss Jackson's reassurance and my best friend by my side, the afternoon didn't seem quite so bleak anymore. Maybe one day the whole fiasco would be something we could laugh about - but for now, I was content just trying to lose myself in the uncomplicated joys of childhood alongside Sebastian. Women would forever remain a mystery, but at least I had my LEGOs. And Seb.

I tried my best to push Hope and her hurtful laughter from my mind, and focus on my building. It worked for a while, but then we got interrupted by Eshe.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to us. “I've been looking everywhere for you two.”

Sebastian barely looked up from the impressive spaceship he was constructing. “We're right here, Eshe. As you can see.”

She rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. “Well duh, I can see that now. But I didn't know where you both ran off to after...you know.” Her eyes flickered over to me hesitantly.

My cheeks burned at the reminder of my humiliation. But then another awful thought slipped into my mind… I suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling that Eshe was one of Hope's closest friends. Of course, she was going to take her side and not mine. Of course! 

“What do you want, Eshe?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She seemed to sense my hostility and raised her hands defensively. “Easy, tiger. I come in peace.” She plopped down gracefully beside us, sweeping her pigtails over her shoulder. I had to admit, despite her annoying bossy attitude, Eshe always looked impeccably put together thanks to her tireless efforts at reinventing her appearance. Today's ensemble featured our school’s summer uniform (a green and white chequered dress for the girls, if I recall correctly), a grey cardigan, pigtails adorned with bright pink bows, and her favourite shiny black mary janes. Classic Eshe.

“Look,” she began, turning her big brown eyes on me earnestly. “I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about what happened at lunch. With Hope, I mean.”

I shrugged one shoulder sulkily, keeping my eyes trained on the LEGO tower I was half-heartedly assembling (since I’m pretty sure I had given up on building a spaceship at this point. I wasn’t as good with LEGO as Seb was back then).

“Hope totally overreacted,” Eshe continued. “I prepped her all morning like you asked, making sure her hair looked perfect and everything.” 

“I never asked you to do that, Eshe,” I said, still refusing to look in her general direction. “Your job was to distract her so she didn’t find out about it. That’s all.”

“Whatever, Zeke. You have to understand, though, she's just...not great with feelings and emotional stuff,” she explained. “She handles it badly sometimes.”

“That's no excuse to be so mean!” I burst out, finally meeting Eshe's gaze fiercely. “What's so funny about what I said to her? Why did she have to laugh at me like that?”

Eshe patted my arm consolingly. “You're absolutely right, it wasn't funny at all. Hope was way out of line. I already told her off about it, and she does feel bad now. Give her a chance to apologise later, yeah?”

I highly doubted the great Hope Kamani would lower herself to apologise to a loser like me. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Sebastian cut me off.

“Just leave it, Eshe. Thanks for the apology, but Zeke doesn't need any more Hope crap today.”

He shot her a rare scathing look. I couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude toward my best friend for sticking up for me against one of Hope's formidable girl squad.

Eshe looked mildly taken aback by Sebastian's uncharacteristic sharpness, but recovered quickly with a resigned shrug. "Suit yourselves, I guess. I'll let Hope know you both need space."

With that, she rose gracefully and flounced off to the other side of the room, where the costume cupboard was (where Hope and her other friends always liked playing together. Eshe’s favourite costume there was the yellow Beauty and the Beast dress… she was a huge Belle fan growing up). It’s, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Seb was the first to break it.

“Can you believe that one?” he muttered, shaking his head. “She acts like Hope's the queen and we should all be grateful for her laying down the law.”

I snorted derisively. “I know, right? That whole crew has gotten way too big for their boots if you ask me.”

Hope had an extensive entourage. Here was her inner circle during primary school:

Eshe Brown (duh)

Tanaka Okada - effortlessly cool Japanese girl who always looks like she'd just stepped out of a photo shoot (she doesn't go to our secondary school, but she and Hope are still friends and they hang out to this day. So I've seen her around, and she's also active on social media. And let me tell you - she hasn't changed a bit. Make of that what you will)

Layla Abbas - wealthy Lebanese chick whose family owned this online store where you could get these really nice, spacious backpacks (other stuff, too, but I mainly go there for the backpacks. Unlike Tanaka, Layla moved to the same secondary school as us, so I see her much more often. She too has a really trendy and really pricy taste in fashion, often rocking the latest designer clothes)

Indy Sandhu - probably the most uniquely stylish of the bunch with her edgy mix of vintage and modern looks (Jacob also had a huge crush on her in Year 4. Which I totally get! She's cool. I think I like her style most. She too is in our secondary school)

They all seemed to revolve around Hope, gobbling up her undivided attention and approval like it was oxygen. It was baffling to me how a group of girls who were all so cool and stylish in their own right seemed to defer to Hope as the shining example to emulate. Not that I could pretend to understand the mind of a female at this point. Most of the boys in our class steered well clear of that crew, content to steer clear of the dramas and complexities of the girl world. Let them do their thing, while we did ours. As long as Hope's clique kept their silliness contained, we were more than happy to leave them to it. Still, I couldn't resist a derisive snort as I pictured the five of them strutting around the playground, heads held high, strutting like they were on a catwalk. The unwavering confidence, the addiction to attention and obsession with their appearances, the mind-boggling ability to make even 5-year-old boys feel small and inadequate – it was all so bewildering and, frankly, exhausting. I couldn’t stand any of them.

“I don't get what the big deal is about that whole group,” I groused to Sebastian. “They just seem like a bunch of meanies to me.”

Seb considered this for a moment before responding. “I mean, you're not wrong, mate. But you also can't deny that Hope and her girl squad have, like...I dunno...an inexplicable cool factor going on.”

I pulled a face, not enjoying the reminder that even my best friend was somewhat in awe of Hope's powerful effect. He must have noticed my scepticism, because he was quick to continue.

“Don't get me wrong, Hope was way out of line at lunch. And you're probably right that the rest of them are just as bad. But you can't deny there's just something...magnetic about them? Like a group of really attractive baby swans that you can't tear your eyes away from, even though you know they'll probably bite your head off if you get too close to them.”

I rolled my eyes at the bizarre analogy, but I had to grudgingly admit there was a hint of truth to what he was saying. For whatever reason, Hope and her crew just seemed to command a certain gravity that drew others in helplessly, even when they were nasty pieces of work.

As I mulled this over, Miss Jackson reappeared carrying a stack of our favourite books. Sebastian and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement to shake off the matter of Hope and her lackeys for now. We could ponder the mystifying forces of femininity another time. For the rest of the afternoon, I allowed myself to become immersed in the simple worlds within those book pages, surrounded by the easy camaraderie of reading with my best friend and favourite teacher (at the time). If I couldn't quite rid my mind of Hope completely, at least I was able to stuff her into a tiny box and tuck her away in the recesses of my brain for now at least.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last too long. By the time my mum had come to take me home, I was all upset again. I don’t know what it was… Maybe it was because I knew I had to face her again the next day. Maybe it was because it had been a few hours since the rejection had happened, and the realisation of what had happened was starting to sink in. Maybe it was the fact that she got out of this situation all fine and dandy while here I was in complete and utter despair (my gosh, I was so dramatic back then). I mean, she’s still popular and beloved by everyone, while I went from being an awkward but well liked guy in our class to a total laughing stock. All because of her.

I was just silently stewing on all of this during the ride home. My poor mother must have been so worried… I mean, I’m never quiet in the car. Back then, I was rarely quiet period. Like I said before, 5-year-old Zeke did everything loudly. Unless I was mad, apparently.

“Hey, sweetie,” my mum said gently, breaking the silence as she started the car and started the journey home. “How was school today?”

I sighed heavily, unsure of how to respond. Should I tell her about what happened with Hope? Would she even understand, or would she just brush it off as childish drama as she so frequently did with my problems back then? 

“It was okay, Mummy,” I muttered finally, opting for a vague answer.

My mum glanced over at me, concern etched into her features. “You seem a bit down, Zeke. Is everything alright?”

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, darling.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mummy.”

“So something did happen, then.”

Oops.

“No!”

“What’s going on, Zeke?” Mum asked. “Was somebody mean to you?”

I felt like crying again. I didn’t, though - all I said was, “I said that I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Honey, why not? You know you can tell Mummy anything.”

Not even the slightest bit true, not then or even now, but OK, Mum (look, I love my mum a lot, OK? Don’t get me wrong. But there are a vast list of things I would never even think of saying to her that I would say to other people. Parental relationships are different from friendships, and there are things I would share with my friends that I wouldn’t really want to share with family. And vice versa. But maybe that’s just me). I stayed mute for a while, chewing my trembling lip hard enough to draw blood as the cruel memory replayed on a torturous loop in my mind. For a moment, I almost wanted to say something. But at the very last second, I decided against it.

“I just want some peace and quiet right now, Mummy,” I eventually mumbled. “Can we just not talk until we get home?”

“Okay, sweetie,” my mum replied, her tone gentle but concerned. She reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning her focus to the road. For the rest of the drive, there was no more sound but the humming of the car as it moved through familiar roads and streets.

All the while, all I did was replay the whole thing in my mind. The sheer mortification of having my heartfelt proposal so utterly rejected by Hope in front of the entire class. Her mocking laughter slicing through me like shards of broken glass. The pain. The shame. The humiliation. All of it was stirring inside me, curdling into rage.

At that moment, with angry tears beginning to sting my eyes again, I decided that if she was going to be mean to me, then I'd be mean right back. See how she likes it. So I did the only thing a hurt 5-year-old kid could think of - I started a nasty rumour about her as payback.

Childish, I know. But in my defence, I was a child.

The next morning, I knew exactly what to do. I woke up with a sense of purpose for the first time in my entire life, probably. I was eager - nay, determined - to show Hope her place… but once I got into class, I could barely look at Hope without feeling that searing humiliation all over again. I tried my best to avoid her at first, sticking close to Sebastian and the other boys during morning drop-off.

“You alright, mate?” Seb asked, no doubt picking up on my sullen mood.

I shook my head mutely, not trusting myself to speak without my voice cracking. The hurt was still so fresh and raw. Which kind of made me mad… why are my stupid feelings getting in the way of my mission?

Jacob, ever the instigator, piped up. “What's wrong, Zeke? Still thinking about yesterday’s adventures with the wicked witch?”

A few of the other boys sniggered at his not-so-subtle nickname for Hope. I managed a small smile, grateful for Jake’s attempt at lightening the mood.

“It’s not fair that she gets to laugh at me and humiliate me like she did yesterday and get away with it,” I grumbled.

“Oh, you know what we should do?” Jacob piped up again. “Prank her! Let’s put a bucket of slime over the door for when she walks in," Jacob continued with a mischievous grin. "That'll teach her!”

We laughed at that one, too. Realistically, though, it wasn’t the best idea. I mean, what if someone else got soaked in the slime instead of her? I didn’t want to risk harming some innocent individual or getting myself in serious trouble. All I want is for Hope to be embarrassed.

“I have a better idea. You know what we’re going to do?”

“What?” Seb asked.

A devilish grin spread across my face. “We're going to spread a rumour that Hope doesn't shower!”

Silence for a second. Then, Jacob burst out laughing at me (damn, Jake. I thought we were friends, man). “Lame!” he cried out (I mean… I guess he wasn’t wrong).

Seb seemed conflicted on the matter. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” he muttered. 

“Sure it is!” I exclaimed. “She'll be stinky and gross and no one will want to play with her! It’s the perfect plan.”

“I mean, what good will that do?” Seb asked. “Hope is just a kid like us. And Eshe said that she felt bad about it, right? Seems kind of mean to me…”

I was having none of that today. “So?! She humiliated me and broke my heart! This is what she deserves.”

Seb sighed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Right. I’m glad you agree. So here’s the plan…”

I had mulled over this plan all of last evening. I had every detail down and I was prepared to share it with the boys. Once I was done, Sebastian still looked unsure, but the thought of retaliating against Hope's cruelty quickly won the rest of the bros over. By midday, the “Hope doesn't shower” rumour was spreading like wildfire through our reception class, thanks to me and the boys. Everything worked out perfectly.

It was perfect… at least, I thought it was. Anytime she walked by, I could hear the hushed giggles and whispers.

“Ew, you smell that?”

“It's probably just Hope again.”

“Gross! She seriously needs to start using soap…”

At first, I felt a rush of vindictive satisfaction watching her beloved popularity get torn down. This was the retribution she deserved after publicly humiliating me the way she did. 

But then I started to feel...weird about it. Like, a part of me felt kind of bad. Which was ridiculous - she had this coming, right? She broke my heart into a million pieces and laughed in my face. So why was I feeling even an ounce of regret about giving her a taste of her own medicine?

I tried to shake it off as I spotted Hope across the room, wearing a confused frown as a group of girls not-so-subtly pinched their noses and turned away from her. Instead of laughing at her misfortune like I thought I would, my stomach twisted uncomfortably.

This is what you wanted, isn't it Zeke? I scolded myself sternly. Don't go feeling sorry for the mean girl now!

But the guilt persisted, gnawing away at me. Until finally, I overheard an interaction that instantly made me feel better about the whole thing:

“Ugh, did someone like… not shower this morning?” Layla Abbas' imperious voice rang out loud and clear.

Hope's eyes widened in distress. “What?! No, I definitely showered, I’m super hygienic!”

“Are you sure?” Tanaka chimed in with a look of poorly concealed disgust. “Because no offence, but you kind of stink.”

“I don't stink! I shower every night before bed,” Hope insisted, her bottom lip trembling as a flush crept up her cheeks. “I even put on Mummy’s perfume and everything!"

The other girls all shared looks and shrugged, clearly not believing her protestations of cleanliness. With that, they got up and flounced off, leaving Hope behind looking utterly bewildered and embarrassed.

I couldn't help it - I let out a huge bark of laughter at the sight. Okay, this was definitely what she deserved! Any lingering feelings of regret instantly dissipated. Say what you want about Hope’s girl squad, but they have the most fire insults.

Take that, Hope! I thought triumphantly. See how it feels to be the one getting laughed at for once?

Of course, my loud laughter drew her attention immediately. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as they landed on me.

“EZEKIEL COLEMAN!” She marched right over, her little hands planted firmly on her hips. “Did you have something to do with this?”

I blinked innocently up at her. “With what?”

"Don't play dumb!" She snapped. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You're the one behind this stupid rumour about me not showering!”

I smirked, not even bothering to deny it at this point. “So what if I am? You had it coming after yesterday.”

Her eyes widened, seemingly stunned that I was admitting to it so brazenly. “I...I can't believe you!” She sputtered. “That's so mean!”

“Oh, you mean like how you laughed at and humiliated me in front of everyone yesterday?” I countered, getting to my feet so I could look her square in the eye. “What you did to me was way meaner!”

“Th-That's different!” Hope protested, though the words lacked conviction. I think she could see the holes in her logic.

“Whatever, Kamani,” I said with an eyeroll, turning away from her dismissively. “Deal with it. It's just a stupid rumour anyway.”

“You’re seriously doing this because you’re mad that I laughed at your stupid proposal?!”

“It wasn’t stupid, Hope,” I replied, voice cracking a bit despite my best efforts to sound all put together (Kamani had that effect on me back then. I’ve mostly grown out of that too, thank God). “I put a lot of thought and time into it, just to be laughed at and humiliated by you and everyone else in the class.”

“I thought you were messing around!” Hope protested. “I seriously thought you were trying to be like one of those bachelor guys on TV, acting all mushy and all. I thought you were playing, I didn’t think you were being for real!”

At that point, I was like, no way! You know about the bachelor shows on the telly too?! Maybe she watches with her mum as well. That’s something we have in common!

Just to be clear, I was thinking that... I didn't say any of that out loud.

But thinking about it now, it’s all so interesting to me how much I didn’t see back then that I do now. She laughed at me because she thought I was kidding. Huh. Assuming that this is all true, maybe Eshe was right about Hope genuinely feeling bad and not being good at handling emotional stuff… Either way, I had found a connection. Something to bridge the gap. I almost began to feel bad again. Almost. 

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now,” I simply said.

“Really?! That’s it?”

I shrugged. What did she want me to do? Apologise? I’m not THAT sorry. Plus, she didn’t apologise to me, so…

I could practically feel the waves of anger radiating off her. Her next words were practically a snarl: “You're going to be sorry for this, Ezekiel. I’m telling on you.”

With that, she stomped off in the direction of our teacher's desk, looking every bit the disgruntled five-year-old she was at that moment. I just laughed again, feeling utterly free of the guilt and conflict that had plagued me earlier. As far as I was concerned, Hope Kamani absolutely deserved everything she was getting. I didn't care if it made me look like the bad guy… she started it.

END OF EXCERPT.

This is even longer than the last one... sorry if that's annoying lol. I just really like the flashbacks. I like writing these characters as young children. It's cool to see how much they've grown in the present tense (as well as how much they haven't really changed at all lol).

Tagging: @ibuprofen-exe, @jay-avian, @mysticstarlightduck, @jay-avian, @winterandwords,

@space-writes, @bookish-karina, @clairelsonao3, @theeccentricraven and @sam-glade

[oohaena]

happy opening! genevieve (s/h, 21+) here, writing for han haena. (way) more about her under the cut, but i do also have a little profile & background for her if you're not reading all that. i’m available on ims and discord, so just drop a little heart if you’re interested in plotting!

the importance of financial independence is hammered into haena from a young age- soy sauce over eggs and rice, while a really fucking good meal, gets pretty stale when it's all that's in the pantry a week before mama han gets paid. the meagre cheques her father sends quarterly bounce more often than not, and her mom likes to lament that her marriage to him was the biggest mistake she made in her life.

marriage and education are just about the only viable ways out of the working class. with the way her mom talks about her ex, haena decides to work towards the latter. it's at yonsei business school she meets kim hyunwoo, who loves her drive until he realises he'll always be below her career in her list of priorities when she misses their wedding cake tasting for a meeting. he spirals, realises he feels unloved by her, has a quarter life crisis, and moves out of their shared apartment on a thursday afternoon.

he's not the focus of the story, so back to haena, who sells all his crap on karrot the next week. unfortunately, that's still not enough to cover all the cancellation expenses AND her current rent. coincidentally, she finds a flyer advertising an apartment for rent nestled between her windshield wipers. she views it her next day off and moves in the next weekend.

tldr: the brunette career-focused hallmark movie villain, but also living like the do you think a depressed person could make this meme.

has been here 2 months and is already considering breaking her lease early and moving out, because what is up with these vivid ass dreams omg. she wakes up mad as hell at her ex and goes and posts a hate comment on his yoga facebook page. forget kendrick, SHE is the biggest hater. she's chalking it up to the stress of ending such a long relationship + her being considered for a promotion at her job, but the deja vu will start soon...

works odd hours, because her boss dgaf when/how long she works as long as her projects get done. sometimes she's in the office 8am-12am, and sometimes she's at home working 3pm-2am. she codes and shit... don't ask me what she actually does. idk either. she loves her job, but it's also really challenging to go on as normal when her personal life is in shambles. does come off a bit deranged when you interact with her, but she's just an intense person.

her mom still doesn't know her engagement's off, because haena can't quite bear to break the news that her precious daughter's not living the life she's always wanted haena to live.

and honestly, haena's kinda putting it off because telling her mom makes it feel real. it's not that she's in denial--- if her ex came back to her, she'd probably have to go to jail for aggravated assault--- but that she hates that she couldn't have her cake and eat it too. it's just that it's all she hears: how women have to give up their careers for marriage. by getting engaged, she thought she'd beat the odds; unfortunately she doesn't even make it down the aisle.

do not get married just because it seems like the natural conclusion to a long-term relationship. what a lesson to learn the hard way, but haena's always liked her challenges.

power T. does her best to relate, but she's also a triple aquarius, so you should also know not to approach her for anything feelings-related unless you'd like to be smacked in the face with a verbal hammer.

possible meetings: haena's moving furniture @ 3am. your muse knocks on her door, because have some decency? she claims the feng shui here's awful and they get to talking about these weird dreams they're having / your muse runs into haena accosting mr 'excuse me SIRR!!!!!' and badgering him about carbon monoxide alarms, because there is something real weird happening to her / she's passed out, face-down unmoving in the lobby after a work dinner and your muse thinks she's dead

sorry i yapped so much, but anyway. if you're up for your muses to be the other charas in her Big Hallmark Movie Sequel where she gets her redemption arc after being Transformed by People, please hit the like! i'm big on chem & brainstorming, so i'd like to see what we can come up with, instead of set dynamics :^)