#in a good way. the way that it would change my life and i would feel like i belonged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shanastoryteller · 2 days ago

Note

Congrats on finishing See Something Say Something!! I checked the notification of the first AO3 email sent out and you initially planned on five chapters.

Would you say that the ending changed considerably since you started in October? Or has that stayed the same?

thank you!

it stayed the same lol. while my fics getting wildly out of control and becoming way longer than i anticipated is pretty common, i'm pretty much never changing overarching plot when this happens. the story that i become interested in telling is typically the story then i end up telling

almost every story can be made shorter or longer. it's less about what happens and more about how that information is conveyed. things that really tend to affect writing length are perspective and breathing room

the shortest fic i have on ao3 that's not part of a series is You Were (Not) Meant For Me (posted 11 years ago, jesus T_T). the premise is that claudia was a witch who intended trained stiles to be a witch and she arranged his marriage to laura hale, the future hale alpha. this is a traditional pairing as talia's husband was also a witch married to talia in service of the pact. except claudia died before she could train stiles or tell him about the engagement. stiles starts learning magic after scott is turned. derek falls for stiles and feels like he's betraying his sister by loving him, betraying stiles by not being the alpha he deserves and not telling him about the arrangement claudia made, and hates himself the entire time, but not enough to stop himself

that's a 100k fic easy

it's 1,696 words

it's extremely limited perspective (derek's) and it's made up only of limited snapshots of moments with very little context. there's no seeing what's happening, only told, which i think would quickly grow boring if it was longer and if the real point of the story wasn't derek's self hatred and how he fails to deal with it. that's the part of the story that isn't told, really - derek does think explicitly that he hates himself, but we're also seeing it in the way he talks and thinks about himself and the people around him

by contrast we have survival is a talent, which is obviously my longest fic. we're over 500k and we've got quite a bit to go

perspective doesn't just refer to character pov, but audience pov - are you being told a story, or are you experiencing the story? this is also tied into breathing room. there's no wrong way, i've done both and will do both, but one certainly requires more words than the other in my experience

siat is told only through draco and harry's perspective, but it's all happening in real time. the audience is being taken along for this story. the thing is that that things in real life don't all come tumbling one after another, not all questions have immediate answers. when depicting character growth and a plot unfurling, i think it's really important to include breathing room to give the audience time to feel that growth and change. i'm stricter about this with siat than anything else i've written, probably sometimes to its detriment. i want you and the characters to have time to feel the effects of emotional revelations and plot hints. i want you to have the time to question and wonder about things the same way the characters do

one time a friend criticized the good place for including the portion where they were alive again on earth because it wasn't as interesting as being in hell, but i disagree. we needed that breathing room both to live with the effects of character growth of going through hell and to have time for the effects of their actions on the plot to settle before they moved forward again. i stopped watching agents of shield because we weren't given enough breathing room - there was never a chance to see the characters not in crisis, the world was always ending, ect. the alchemyst book series has the first like 3 books taking place over a day and a half. i got tired of it after that. there's no breathing room

a story where i gave up on the concept of breathing room was build your wings on the way down. i liked that fic, but i wanted it finished, and to do it with i think optimal pacing would have made it twice as long as it was. so i said screw it, avalanche time, everything is happening all at once right now. there's very little breathing room there, which i think doesn't work too terribly in part because everything is so urgent and everyone is stressed so not being able to catch you breath sort of fits

See Something Say Something did not need to be 215k, although i'm not at all complaining. i feel very happy with how i told this story. but the basic premise - sam getting his powers early, getting involved in the large hunter world secretly from his family, and dean feeling misplaced and worried about how much sam needs/wants him - could have been told a hundred different ways and all would have pulled it off, so to speak

i considered doing the the entire fic from dean's pov (as a sam girl i love his pov because all he thinks about is sam and he's so insane about it) which would have effectively cut out basically the first five chapters. i thought exploring the slow realization of what's going on purely from dean's pov, with the audience having not insight would have been really interesting, just like what I did in dumb luck or good ghost with dean slowly figuring out that sam didn't die in the crash. another thing is the inclusion of all the side characters which i did to make the world feel rich and real, but we didn't need all these outsider povs to get the basic point across. very rarely is something vital being conveyed by an outsider pov, but it reinforced and adds to the main characters. i also initially didn't have wincest, which obviously added a ton of words. i loved exploring dean's self hatred and fear and sam's obliviousness, but bringing them to a place of ignorance to acceptance to happiness is a lot longer of a journey than just dealing with dean's propriety love as an unhinged co-dependent older brother. again, i'm sticking by all these choices, i made them because i thought it was the best way to the tell the story i was most interesting in telling, but my point is that you didn't need them to tell this particular story

it was also how i told the story. we spend a lot of time wallowing in character's emotions, especially dean's and sam's, but the others as well. part of this fic is convincing you that these two brothers should fuck, actually, and doing that effectively is going to take some time, especially at this point in their lives when things are pretty normal. comparatively, fucking your brother after starting the apocalypse is pretty small potatoes. i wanted you to understand these people, to feel what they were feeling, to not feel that it was inconceivable that jess would be willing to share her boyfriend with his brother, to buy all their relationships with each other in a way that isn't purely based on convenience

part of the reason i wrote dumb luck or good ghost before see something say something was that i felt i needed a firmer grasp on who the characters are before getting into who they were and who they could be - especially john, who i feel is exceptionally difficult to write without over excusing his actions or over villainizing them. the reason john doesn't get a single pov in see something say something is that while he's a motivating and underlying factor in much of the story, the story isn't about him. it's about the effect he has on those around him, and i didn't want to sully the pureness of that effect by introducing his internal dialogue, regardless of how persecutionary or absolving it would be. it's just not about him. it's how he responds to others and how they respond to him in turn

anyway! this is another example of something ending up longer than expected, but yeah. the plot of see something say something didn't change much from posting of the first chapter and my stories rarely do - i have plot points in siat that have been there since i posted the first chapter that are still relevant and happening. "harry and draco just. cut dumbledore's fucking hand off" my beloved

#posting publicly because it got away from me and maybe other people are interested idk T_T #asks #crazygingerwitch

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crescenthistory · 3 days ago

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2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

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wonallofme · 1 day ago

Text

pinching!

tw and tags: bully!heeseung x plus size!fem!reader, descriptions of bullying, a lot of physical contact, noncon then heavy dubcon, oral sex (f receiving). word count: 2.3k note: originally written with a different idol in mind, this fic was already posted in my old blog. while talking to one of my best friends in the app we decided to re-post old fics for fun and idk why but while checking some of them I felt this one fitted Hee. I changed it a lot tho. anyway, hope someone here likes the concept. i’m a big fan of plus size/chubby reader but haven’t had the opportunity to talk about it here in the blog yet so, if you like it too, please don’t hesitate to hit my (empty) inbox! special thanks to fairy for being my first-ever beta reader ❤️

You have a couple of memories from that place, like how good it felt to hug your grandmother before bed, how there was a little stall in front of your school that always had tasty sweets, and how there was a little boy you used to walk home with after classes finished.

There wasn’t much objection once your mother said you would go back and live together in your grandmother's place not to leave the house empty. You had a couple of friends, but it was nothing special, so you said goodbye to them and moved with your mother without problem.

You had to admit you were kind of happy to move. Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to hug your grandmother, but at least you would feel her presence with the old floors and flower decorations that surrounded every room. Perhaps you could eat those sweets again, and there was the chance of making new friends too. Good things could come, you thought.

If you’re honest, you just hoped you could see him again.

You should've known at that point in your life that having expectations only leaves the sour aftertaste of disappointments.

The stall wasn’t there anymore, the entire house had changed because of your mother's decision, leaving no trace of your grandmother behind, and the sweet boy that used to follow you with a smile now followed you to make fun of you.

It was easy to recognize him. He had the same eyes and shiny smile, and you were elated to see a good, old friend all grow up into a real man. Sadly, he wasn’t as happy as you to see you again, showing you a disgusted face once you told him who you were.

‘’Don’t fucking talk to me,’’ he said, and you didn’t understand what you had done wrong. Perhaps you were too confident, your perfume wasn’t to his liking, or your hand was sweating too much when you touched him. You honestly had no idea why he reacted like that, but you understood that, just like his appearance, he had changed too.

After all, that sweet boy you used to know would’ve never talked to you that way.

That interaction alone was enough to make you never want to approach him again. You didn’t want to hear that tone or see that expression again, so you did your best. You avoided him in the hallway, you stayed in your seat not to cross his way during breaks, and you didn’t look his way when you recognized his voice.

It was all useless though.

You had become his new favourite thing.

At first, he was all words and no bite. He’d throw comments every now and then about your physical appearance, like comparing you to a pig when you ate your lunch in the cafeteria or mocking your uniform for being bigger than normal because of your size.

His friends only laughed at these comments, and those who weren’t his friends stayed silent. They were different groups but shared one same trait– None dared to approach you, afraid of receiving the same treatment from him.

Then, he started to touch you.

He pinched your arm, telling you to give him your homework to copy it. Later, it was your cheeks, telling you to stop eating if you didn’t want to gain weight. Finally, one day, when everyone had left for the PE class while you were searching for your towel in your seat, approaching you silently from behind, he pinched your waist.

Scared, you turned to him. It had hurt a lot more than when he did it to your cheeks. You knew that, more than to bother you or call your attention, like on the other occasions, he had done it with all the intention of hurting you.

When you looked at his face, you noticed that his typical grin wasn’t there, replaced by a surprised expression and curious eyes instead. Somehow, you felt that something bad was about to happen, so you pushed him out of the way and walked out of there as soon as you could without caring that you were leaving with empty hands.

‘’Where’s your towel?’’ your teacher asked you.

‘’I forgot it,’’ you answered, not wanting to return to the classroom.

Later, Heeseung arrived with your towel in his hand, and you got punished for not bringing all the obligatory material.

He got worse.

if he crossed you in the hallways, he would shamelessly pinch your waist until you hissed, and when he found you in the library, between shelves, he would pinch your ass, grinning from ear to ear at the picture of you biting your lips not to make a sound so you wouldn’t get in trouble again.

As if everything he did was an innocent game, he smiled at you after nipping different parts of your body, like the side of your ribcage when you decided to walk away from his teasing, the back of your hand when you tried to push him away, or your thighs when he sat beside you in the cafeteria or the study room.

‘’Why are you doing this?’’ you whispered, pushing his hand away from prying under your skirt and pinching your upper leg.

‘’Look at all that skin,’’ he answered, grabbing your round hand with force to stop you from getting away. ‘’Your body is begging for it.’’

When you tried to do it again, to get away from his hands, he pinched the space of your chest that your bra didn’t cover.

Making you whimper in pain, he laughed at your hurt expression.

‘’It really hurts!’’ you tried to reason with him, but he was a lost cause. It didn’t matter that you were full of little purple and green spots, flinching at the mere sight of him lurking around, he wanted more.

This is going to end at one point, you tried to tell yourself.

He’d get tired and leave you alone when he found a new toy. It was impossible he only focused on you the entire time, and even if it was like that, it was your last year. After that, you prayed, you’d never see him again.

Everything comes to an end.

Your house was the only safe space you had. Even if it wasn’t anything like the warm memory you had about it, it was a place that had never been tainted by Heeseung, unlike your school, or the streets you walked to arrive there.

Sometimes, he would follow you while murmuring insults, pretending to be a good friend walking you home. Nonetheless, once you opened your entrance door and saw that he stayed feet away, you would exhale, relieved that he didn’t try to follow you inside, too.

‘’Your friend is waiting for you in your room,’’ your mother smiled. ‘’I’ll go and buy something for you to eat later’’

She, unlike you, was excited to have him there, and you, trying to breathe properly not to show how the panic was consuming you, nodded.

‘’He’s become such a handsome man,’’ she murmured before leaving.

There was nothing you could do to run away, it was your house, and opening your room door, you saw him calmly looking at your stuff.

Your pillow wasn’t where you left it, so it was impossible to deny he had been roaming around for a while, invading your space and doing whatever he wanted, like he always did.

Standing in front of your bookshelf, one of your diaries open in his hands, he sensed your presence.

‘’Didn’t know you took so many walks, thought you would never come,’’ he said, passing the page and inspecting its content as if there was something in particular he was looking for. ‘’It doesn’t explain why you still look like that though.’’

‘’Heeseung, I’ve done nothing to you,’’ you sounded as if you were begging at that point. ‘’Why– I just don’t get why.’’

‘’I have my reasons,’’ he answered, closing the book and leaving it where it previously was.

You flinched when he showed the intention of getting close to you. Your hands became fists behind you, fully alert, one of them gripping the knob, ready to run into another room in case he tried to hurt you again.

‘’We were friends,’’ you said, lower lip slightly trembling. ‘’Please, stop. It hurts, Heeseung. It hurts a lot.’’

He saw you like that, broken, vulnerable, and he beamed.

Walking towards you, you thought your body would listen to you and escape, but it didn’t.

As you remained frozen in your place, caging you with his body, he finished closing the door behind you. Too late, you only reacted after hearing the loud click the secure did.

You started trembling as you realised he had blocked the only way of running away you had.

‘’But if I don’t touch you, who else will?’’ he whispered, taking your shaking hand in his.

Not pinching it this time, he interlocked his fingers with yours and pulled you closer to him. Your torso compacting his made you more conscious of how you were completely alone in your room, and, therefore, of how unrestrained he was allowed to act.

‘’If you’re good, I’ll stop being so hard on you. What do you think about that?’’ he offered.

You didn’t understand him. Being good with what?

Looking up at him, you couldn’t move your chest from pressing his because his other hand, forcing you to stay in your place, went to rest over the small of your back, the generous curve from your ass to your waist that was the object of so many of his jokes.

You could see where his actions were going.

You felt yourself get nauseous with his body temperature and his aroma suffocating you due to the inexistent distance between your bodies.

‘’My mom will come back in any second…’’ you didn’t know what other excuse to use.

‘’I’ll be quick,’’ he smiled, wetting his lips, unconsciously sending a signal to your brain that screamed for you to just be good and get it over with.

‘’Will it hurt?’’ Your face betrayed you, plainly showing all the fears you had, giving him, once again, the upper hand.

‘’Not anymore,’’ he assured you. His hand that used to bring you so much pain suddenly became gentle and trailed up, caressing your arm with multiple marks created by him before finding your chest, and groping it with obvious satisfaction a few times, he felt them until he decided he wanted to touch more of you.

His hands continued their way until he found his new goal.

He cupped your face with a tenderness you had never met from him before, and not wanting to provoke him in any way, you muted yourself.

To his unpleasant care, thumbs caressing your cheeks, you didn’t make a single noise, not the hiss you always let out when he pinched you, nor the cry when he painfully rubbed your soft skin.

‘’Well done,’’ he praised you, proud of what he recognised as your acceptance.

He expected you to continue being so obedient when he obliged your thighs to open with his knee.

Quickly, he found his place.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you never imagined the situation would end with him ditching your pants somewhere in your room and desperately dropping to his knees so he could accommodate between your trembling legs, slurping all the involuntary wetness your body made you drip not to suffer when the moment of taking him arrived.

Not being able to call his name properly, you whined when his palms gripped your meaty thighs a bit too hard and his tongue found your entrance, penetrating it with sloppy stabs.

The sensation of the tip of his nose bumping against your clit and his fingers separating your plump folds made you bite your lips to stop what felt like a moan.

He was eating you out like a starved man.

Your hands went to his hair, and you have no idea what flooded you, but you felt free to hurt him too.

You wanted him to suffer too.

Full of unknown courage, you pulled his hair and moved your hips to crush his face, using him instead of the other way around.

Then, it felt good– To hurt him felt way too good.

You thought, maybe this is why he does it, because you had never felt so powerful and in control before, especially, with him.

Looking down, you two made eye contact even with your chubby stomach prodding out.

His eyes had nothing of the mockery they always showed. Instead, they were completely lost, drunk and unfocused. You couldn’t contain your moans anymore when his eyes batted and he seemed pleased to have your attention on him.

Not much after he started fucking you harder with his tongue, the knot in your stomach started to feel so tight you knew it would snap in any second.

Without intention, or maybe with all the intention, you closed your large legs around his head, not caring that you were crushing his face as you strongly came over his mouth and nose.

He mewled, hugging your legs as you asphyxiated him for many seconds before your orgasm finished and you inevitably relaxed.

Just after giving him everything you had, you finally allowed him to breathe.

You freed him from your hold, but he didn’t move away immediately.

Gulping your remaining juices, he hardly inhaled once through his nose before he started licking the drops of your orgasm inside your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses along the way until he found his new favourite thing.

With both hands on the back of your thighs, he blinked multiple times before his tongue found its way between your folds, searching for your clit to leave a last loving lick.

As if he was proud you had abused him, only separating forcedly because of your hands pushing his head away from your sensitive clit, he took open-mouthed deep breaths with a still dazed expression.

Regaining some of his senses, he talked with the lower half of his face glistening.

‘’See? This didn’t hurt, right?’’ he smiled.

#─★dark enhypen #─★heeseung #─★fanfic #─★plus size reader #tw dubcon #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enha smut #heeseung x reader

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therayofsonshine · 2 days ago

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was in a&e, so no better time to do this than now! (edit: missed the entirety of this as i was logged out. FUCK. so… um here is day 17 to 24. the very late version.)

day 17: my camera roll in my dr is.. honestly a vibe. but i have the weirdest shit going on over there. it’s tame to begin with: photos of england n my family. n then it just goes to shit: pics of our empty house with boxes everywhere and carnage from moving in and getting accustomed to a new environment. and tbh i can’t be arsed to delete anything 😭 so i’ve just left it and pray i can find the photos i need in time.

i wish i had a way to organise all of my camera roll into eras of my life and categories regarding photos. but.. that’s definitely something to add to my script.

day 18: i’ve scripted in a spontaneous drinking night for the reality show. i’m somewhat subscribed to the whole “drunk words are sober thoughts” thing so it would be really interesting to see what people think of certain topics/people on the show after a few games haha. this hasn’t happened yet but i’m really looking forward to how that one pans out!

day 19: i have a few hobbies in my dr! some are a work in progress whilst others i am confident + comfortable getting on with. they include and are not limited to: thrifting (my original occupation in this dr was a fashion student, but i changed my mind as it just happens randomly and i fear i would lose all love for it if forced to create), music (ironic as my boyfriend is literally an idol), crochet/knitting, and drawing.

i enjoy making things and making myself and others feel good whilst doing them. i have knitted my family/friends quite a lot of clothing (i am LITERALLY keeping the bills paid and lights on and providing clothes on the back’s of my family like damn!). if i’m not working i’m doing one of these things. n enjoying every bit of it.

day 20: i’ve recently discovered - in fact - my main love language is NOT words of affirmation (tho it is still one of them), but quality time (which actually makes more sense to me). so any date that revolves around me spending time with another person is quite literally the most romantic thing ever. FUCK romance!!!!!

for example, recently in my CR two of my friends watched the entirety of the hobbit trilogy with me in one sitting, into the early hours of the morning. and i am STILL telling people about it because it meant the world to me. those films are long too! so! yea, something like that.

day 21: WORKING. i work too much in my cr n now i have to do it in my dr as well????? damn it’s almost like i signed up for this! but i guess that’s one of the downsides of having a family business: i actually have to help out and do the work. yikes. no i’m kidding (kinda), but working in a café is not for the weak.

also, not really a downside - as again, signed up for it - but watching people want and like yunho before i go out with him. (context: this is a dating reality show dr, so people are going to fancy him alongside me. but can i blame them?). it doesn’t make me uncomfortable or awkward tbh, just a little like… oh! oh 😔.. oh 😏😏😏. you get me.

day 22: i scripted i can cook. (….yea.) i just cannot. i can make beans on toast but that’s as chef-like i get in the kitchen, unfortunately. and obviously having to work in a baking environment + serving customers food that may potentially poison them if it doesn’t agree with them, i need to know how to cook.

that’s as good as it gets i’m afraid!

day 23: MY FAMILY ARE SUCH LOSERS LMFAO. we do those matching pyjamas on Christmas Eve. we also make gingerbread houses! which is very fun!!!!

day 24: the vibes of this dr!!! it’s technically a dr for me to be on a reality dating show so a lot of it revolves around being in love (am not complaining yo…)

day 25 (FINALLY): i spend xmas with my family. my family always book the week off and we close the café for christmas because let’s be frank who tf is coming into our shop on christmas day????? nobody yo. we’re not even in korea anyways so the shop just sits dead - and collects dust - during that time of the month. it’s a fun game to place bets on the state of the building after we return - tho we do try to leave it spotless when we leave.

xmas is always chaotic with my family it’s so funny. someone always ends up drunk and singing - eventually roping the rest of the family into it (or most LMFAO).

𝟐𝟓 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒. ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅ .

a series of questions for the days leading up to christmas for shifters!! Some of these questions are Christmas specific and others aren’t, feel free to answer what you want and how you want, ex. moodboards, short answers, longs answers. And if you’d like, you can reblog so it reaches more shifters. Merry Christmas and Happy Shifting :) post tags are #shiftmas #shiftmas2024 tagged: @arishifter

⌗ 𝟏. christmas caroling ; What are a few songs that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐. gingerbread houses ; What does your house look like in your dr? Who do you live with? What is your favorite aspect of your house?

⌗ 𝟑. eggnog ; What is some drama going on in your dr?

⌗ 𝟒. sledding ; What does a hang out with you friend group look like? Where do you go? Who is your friend group?

⌗ 𝟓. snowman ; What is your OOTD? (outfit of the day)

⌗ 𝟔. stockings ; What is your family like? What are your relationships with different members? Any extended family? Who is visiting for Christmas?

⌗ 𝟕. candy canes ; What gives you dr euphoria? (like gender euphoria but for your dr…)

⌗ 𝟖. mistletoe ; Who is your s/o? What is your dynamic and how do you spend time together? Are you two doing something special for the holiday?

⌗ 𝟗. snowflakes ; What are some headcannons you have about people in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟎. icicles ; What is your occupation in your dr? Your coworkers? (Or if student, your classmates?) What is your favorite and least favorite aspect of your occupation?

⌗ 𝟏𝟏. tree skirt ; How did you find out about shifting? What was your first dr and what is your main dr now?

⌗ 𝟏𝟐. ornaments ; What are some objects you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? Why do you have them in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟑. sleigh bells ; Are there any priveleges you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? What are they?

⌗ 𝟏𝟒. cookie cutters ; What are some smells that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟏𝟓. elf on the shelf ; who is your main wingman/women/person? What is your dynamic? What do you guys do when you hang out?

⌗ 𝟏𝟔. wrapping paper ; What is your favorite way to script? Why is it your favorite way?

⌗ 𝟏𝟕. gift tags ; What is your camera roll like in your dr? (photos or just describe it)

⌗ 𝟏𝟖. snowballs ; What is a silly scenario you are looking forward to in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟗. mittens ; What are your hobbies in your dr? How do you usually spend your down time?

⌗ 𝟐𝟎. ice skates ; What is your ideal date in your dr? (friends or s/o)

⌗ 𝟐𝟏. coal ; What is something unpleasant you have/have to experience in your dr? Why are you not looking forward to it?

⌗ 𝟐𝟐. tinsel ; What is something fun or random you have scripted? (ex. Thundersnow is more common, you have a ring that allows you to read minds, you have good luck with thrifting, you’re good at gambling.)

⌗ 𝟐𝟑. fir tree ; What are some traditions you have in your dr but not your cr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐𝟒. hot cocoa ; put together a moodboard of your dr or you in your dr

⌗ 𝟐𝟓. christmas ; How are you spending your christmas? Who with? What might be some gifts you are giving and to who?

divider credits.

#sonshineshares #bro this is like a whole month late #i’ve just been busy w work (yup..) and i flip back n forth between this acc n my regular one so #forgot it existed for a while im sorry #love you.. haha…#shiftblr #kpop shifting #reality shifting #shifters #shifting #shifting motivation #shift

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aangelinakii · 3 days ago

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SAFEHOUSE.

— at least you've got each other.

summary : daughter of the mayor, who'd had an attempt on her life, bruce has tasked his son with protecting her in one of his various safehouses around the city. he's never had to do this before, and it doesn't help that you're sort of cute...

note : fem reader if you cannt tell very sorry znd also they're both teenagers like 16 ish

note 2 : also possibly a little out of charscter ? i haven't consumed a lot of damian media 😪 but i also do think he would behave a little differently when he's older compared to when hés like 9

work for robin was changing.

damian wayne expected to be running across rooftops, kicking bad guys in the face and eavesdropping in vents. not sitting around in a safehouse, protecting the mayor's only child.

for the amount of lying around they did, damian wouldn't really call it protecting. it seemed more like just hanging out.

his knee bounced a mile a minute from where he sat at the empty table in your quite non-descript box of a safehouse, eyes flickering over constantly to your frame in front of the cuboid vhs-playing television — what an old thing it was.

it had been quite difficult trying to harbour a relationship with you; of course it would be, having to go into hiding with a random teenage boy your age after having your life threatened by the usual gotham terrorists.

with a sigh, he got to his feet, and you glanced up from your old black and white movie. he stepped up to the door, fingering the locks to make everything was in place, and then past the curtains, which swayed slightly with movement, but were thick enough to keep out the light from outside.

these days it was difficult to even tell what time it was.

he did this a lot, probably as a way to pass the time, probably cathartically; checking the locks, checking the curtains were still heavy in front of the windows, giving the small apartment you stayed in the impression of being empty.

when he was done he turned your way, stepping boredly toward the back of the couch, where you'd already redirected your attention back to the television.

this was an old hitchcock one from the forties — quite bland, actually, but it wasn't like you didn't have anything else better to do.

when you first got here, neither of you having seen a vhs player before, it took a good hour to figure it out, and, at the time, you'd thought you and damian would get along well, laughing along together when you finally managed to insert the tape. now, after almost two months, you'd found barely anything to share a laugh about.

the cushioning on the back of the couch beside you sunk, and you peered over to see damian leaning against it, eyes glued to the pixel-ridden screen. with a huff and a few more moments passing, he spoke, glancing down at you from the corner of his eye. "i'm sorry i'm... not much help. i'm not really used to this whole protecting thing."

he stepped away, and you craned your neck to follow him. he began to pace from behind the sofa, talking with his hands as he kept his eyes on his feet. "i'm used to protecting people outside, not confined in here. i'll be honest, i'm going a bit mad in here."

an involuntary chuckle brushed past your lips, and he glanced up. "i completely get it," you returned, resting your arm on the back of the couch. "i'm not used to this, either. usually i'd be with my friends, or something — but i'm not even allowed to reach out to them. they probably think i actually did get shot."

you don't miss the way the corner of his mouth turns up as he circles around and continues his pacing.

this might be the most conversation you've had in three weeks.

where you think he might speak again, you can only hear the tinny voices of laurence olivier and joan fontaine, but your eyes continue to follow his movements. he seemed antsy, nervous; all he seemed to be these days.

"hey," you said out of nowhere, grabbing his attention, but he doesn't stop walking or cracking his knuckles. "why don't we do something you'd usually do?"

he considered your words for a moment, but kept pacing. "like what?"

your eyes trailed off, glancing around the room. it consisted of a small kitchen area and a little two-seater table, but you mostly stayed on the couch, getting through the wicker basket of tapes beneath the television. in the corner was a door to the bathroom, and two other doors to each of your miniscule bedrooms.

but in all the limited space within the main room, between the table and the couch, it was empty enough for movement.

"you said you're used to protecting outside," you hummed, looking back at him. by now, he'd stopped his pacing and was eyeing you inquisitively. "what do you ususally do?"

damian gave a shrug. "hit... people?"

with a shrug of your own, you jumped up to your feet. "why don't we do that? hit each other?"

once again, the corner of his mouth perked up. "hit you? i'm supposed to be protecting you, don't you remember?"

a laugh passed your lips as they curved into a smile. "no, no." and you walked around the sofa to face him. "you can just pretend. like, show me your moves. or teach me something."

your teenage bodyguard sized you up for a moment, flesh sinking beneath his mouth as he chewed at his gum pensively. after a few beats, he began to nod slowly. "if you think that will help."

"sure it will," you smiled as you reached out for his hands, palms slightly rough in yours, and dragged him out into the little space between what was supposed to be the dinner table and couch.

once you were out of the way of anything too valuable — like the tv — you let go of his hands and took a few steps back. "so how do we start?"

it seemed when being prompted to do so in a safe environment, damian struggled to get in the headspace of a fight. he'd been raised by assassins, it usually came as second nature.

perhaps it was that he was being watched, where it was only him and you.

sheepishly, eyes focusing on a spot on the wall behind you as opposed to actually you, damian took on a wider stance and carefully bent his legs. he looked agile, lean, and when he brought his forearms up to the sides of his head, his hands didn't curl tightly.

like this, he seemed to morph; from that quiet, almost shy, awkward boy you'd spent the past month and a bit with in, to a viper ready to strike.

instinctively, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, like he were really about to attack.

with less ease than him, you attempted to match damian's stance, bending your knees slightly and bringing your forearms up to shield the sides of your head. but this only caused damian to let out a huff of a laugh.

"what?" you hummed, unable to stop the corners of your mouth lifting.

before you, damian's shoulders fell lightly. "nothing, it's just... no, it's not funny." although you could still see that smile behind his shielding arms, he made an attempt to compose himself.

your previous casual stance returned, your arms falling to your sides and your back straightening. "hey, i'm trying my best here!" you retorted, but a laugh slipped out. "not everyone is batman's side-kick."

"i know," damian responded, watching as you resumed your mirroring of his stance. "i think i forget not everyone has trained like us sometimes, because i'm constantly immersed in it. usually."

testing the ease of your knees and the weight of your shoulders, you opened your mouth to speak again. "what next?"

after a few beats, damian gave his reply. "well... i suppose you'd attack."

with a gesture of your fingers, you beckoned your opponent forward. "attack, then. give me your worst."

despite his dismissive chuckle, damian edged forward, however uncertainly. "absolutely not," he joked in return.

useless in this position, all you could do was watch damian as he silently made to assess his next move; lid covering eye, your lashes fluttered past with your blink and damian appeared much closer, his slow attacks falling purposely short as he pretended to strike various areas of your torso and up.

after a false kick brushed off your side, you straightened up again. "how could i protect myself? if i ever needed to." and at this moment in your life, it seemed very much that this would be helpful information, just in case your life is tried again.

closer than you'd seen him, damian's hair had messed with his shadow boxing. he had dark hair, the colour he shared with his father, but its untidiness must've been inherited from his mother. he owned a perpetual tan, olive in undertone, darker contrasting freckles dotted once below his left eye and then a smaller one merging into the skin of his lip. he was both boyish and owning feminine qualities; the untidiness of a boy, but the sharpness of a woman you'd never want to cross.

with a soft cough in the back of his throat, he reached out an arm, extending it past your ear. "if i was going for an attack here, you would take your other arm and push me away."

as he spoke, you followed his instruction, bringing your arm up, forearm against forearm, to hit him back and dodge out the way.

"a lot of it is timing," damian spoke again, slowly bringing his other arm up to jab at you throat without actually making contact. "timing, reaction and reading. you need to anticipate the action of your opponent before they even make it; that's what makes a good combatant."

your hand came up to take damian's wrist, stopping it where it had stopped anyway, and pushed it up over your head. "i'm not very good at this," you chuckled sheepishly, feeling a little stupid at this slow-motion combat.

pulling his arm back to his side, twisting it just as carefully as he had been to lose your light grip. "you don't have to be. you're just learning now."

as your fingers fell from his skin, your eyes met.

for a moment, damian stumbled upon his words. "but i could teach you if you wanted; something we could work on while we're holed up in here."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc imagines #dc reactions #dc headcanons #dc universe #batfam #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne drabble

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pink-amethyst-tarot · 3 days ago

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What your angles/guides are dying to tell you!

Take a deep breath and focus on which pile you think would be best for you

P I L E 1 P I L E 2 P I L E 3

Pile 1

Seven of Swords, Three of Swords (Reversed), Two of Swords, Ten of Cups, Four of Wands, Page of Cups, Two of Cups, The Lovers

After facing some deceit and hardships, you are healing and now is the time for you to open yourself up again because LOVE IS ON THE WAY!!!! This love coming in is what you have hoped for. This person is *your person* - your soulmate. I feel this wave of peace washing over me as I type this out and it is such a beautiful feeling. I can also see a wedding happening or just celebrations in general for you. Congratulations! I feel like the way this person is going to come in, it's gonna be a nice surprise. There is something that is going to just be a pleasant surprise. Like "OH! There you are! I didn't think I would see you here!"

Pile 2

Three of Swords, King of Swords, Two of Wands, 5 of Wands, Three of Cups, The Fool, Knight of Cups, King of Cups

Before I could really get started on any pile, the first thing I heard was, "Pile two, I'm proud of you!" (Hey, that rhymes!) I'm actually doing Pile Two first!

OMG PILE 2! You dealt with some kind of heartbreaking situation and I deeply think that it's related to romantic love but please take it how it resonates. But did you let it stop you? NO! You wiped your tears and decided to take on the world. It wasn't easy but you got through it and you leaned on your support system and you have been have a ball! I'm seeing fruitfulness and abundance in all areas of your life and because you have healed so much you are ready for a new beginning and a new chance at love! This person will be open with you and understanding. You've earned this.

Pile 3

Queen of Wands, Three of Pentacles, The Magician, Five of Swords, Five of Cups

Pile 3, to put it bluntly, you can be very pig-headed. You are stubborn and everyone else is wrong and you are right. Despite that, though, you are taking the time to unlearn those parts of you, and you are noticing new truths about yourself. I'm seeing the classic mean girl trope like Regina George but like using your bitchiness for good! GOOD FOR YOU, MAMA! Your guides are proud of you for not being so reactionary anymore. It seems you are finding other ways to solve conflict that are the least harmful for everyone one involved. I feel like you're in the beginning stages of this change and it doesn't feel good despite the good you are doing. It's all about finding balance and taking it one step at a time. Truth without kindness is just cruelty.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics

If you are looking for a personal reading, you can look on my shop on Etsy at PinkAmethystTarot, DM me or send me an e-mail at [email protected]

If you feel called to tip:

C@SH@PP: $oddlycozycottage

P@YP@L: @oddlycozycottage

KO-FI: @oddlycozycottage

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

#pink amethyst tarot #tarot #tarot community #222 #111 #333 #tarotblr #pink amethyst #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a photo #pap #pap reading

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runninriot · 1 day ago

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The End Of Maybe

written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1

rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3

“Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.

“Regret what?”

Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.

Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.

“Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.

“I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.

“Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”

He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.

For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.

“Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.

He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.

“I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.

“Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”

“No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”

With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.

“I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”

Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.

But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.

But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.

Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…

He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.

“What-”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.

“You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”

Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.

Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.

Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.

“Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”

He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.

“Are you-” Realisation.

“Do you really-” Disbelief.

“You want to-” Reassurance.

“Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.

They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.

And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingo2025 #steddielovemonth #prompt: proposal

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chrissssssmut · 2 days ago

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BOUNDED

Yandere Karina, Hanni, Danielle, Wonyoung, Liz, Chaewon and Yunjin x Male Reader

*SORRY I FINISHED THIS STORY WAY TOO FAST HAHAHAH but here enjoy!🙏*

You had never imagined your life would turn into something out of a K-drama. After your dad remarried, you suddenly found yourself with seven new stepsisters—each one impossibly beautiful and somehow way out of your league in terms of charm and charisma. At first, the arrangement was simple enough: they ignored you, rolling their eyes or tossing sharp remarks whenever you tried to bond with them. To them, you were just some awkward, out-of-place stepbrother who didn’t belong in their picture-perfect world.

“Don’t touch my stuff, oppa,” Wonyoung had said within the first week, drawing an invisible line around her side of the house.

“Do you even know how to use a dishwasher?” Hanni had teased one evening, earning giggles from Danielle and Liz.

Even Karina, the most composed of the group, had given you cold, detached stares whenever you tried to strike up a conversation.

It was fine. You figured they needed time to adjust, and honestly, so did you. Life went on, and you kept your head low, avoiding their world of glittering social events, designer wardrobes, and seemingly endless selfies.

But things changed when you grew up.

You weren’t the same awkward teen anymore. College life molded you into someone more confident, someone who knew how to dress well, speak up, and draw attention without even trying. Suddenly, your step sisters weren’t just tolerating you—they were noticing you.

It started with small, innocent gestures.

“Oppa, I made extra coffee. Want some?” Yunjin smiled one morning, sliding a cup toward you.

“You’ve been working out, haven’t you?” Chaewon commented one day, casually brushing past you in the hallway. “You look… different.”

Hanni started asking for your opinion on her outfits. Danielle insisted you join their movie nights. Wonyoung, who used to act like you didn’t exist, began hovering around you during family dinners, peppering you with questions about your day.

It felt harmless at first, even flattering. But soon, things began to escalate.

The Turning Point

You were excited for your first real date with a girl from your university. Her name was Mina—sweet, down-to-earth, and refreshingly normal compared to the chaos at home. But when you mentioned her name over dinner, the air in the dining room shifted.

“Who’s Mina?” Karina asked, her voice sharp despite her calm demeanor.

“She’s just a friend,” you replied casually, sensing the sudden tension.

“A friend?” Wonyoung repeated, her fork clinking against her plate. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“She’s not that important,” you said, trying to brush it off.

The next morning, Mina canceled on you.

“I’m so sorry,” she texted. “Something came up. Let’s reschedule?”

You were disappointed but didn’t think much of it—until you noticed Chaewon smirking at you from across the living room later that day.

“Plans didn’t work out?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Something about the way she said it made your stomach twist.

The more you tried to explore your social life, the tighter their grip became.

When you mentioned studying late at the library, Danielle would suddenly “accidentally” spill water on your laptop. “Oops, oppa! I guess you’ll have to stay home and fix that.”

When you came home with a new phone, Liz snatched it from your hands, scrolling through your messages before handing it back with a tight smile. “Just making sure you’re not texting anyone shady.”

And when you decided to crash at a friend’s place for the weekend, Yunjin and Chaewon appeared at your door that night, claiming they “missed you too much to stay apart.”

Every time you tried to push back, they found a way to pull you closer.

It wasn’t until Karina set the new house rules that things turned truly sinister.

“Oppa, it’s for your own good,” she said, her tone soft but unyielding. “You’re too naive. The world outside is dangerous.”

Before you could argue, Wonyoung locked the front door. The key disappeared after that.

Thrilling Descent

The days blurred together in a twisted routine. You weren’t allowed to leave the house, and your phone was constantly “misplaced.” Any attempt to escape or call for help was met with swift punishment.

“Why don’t you trust us?” Hanni whispered one night, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she blocked the hallway. “We only want to protect you.”

Whenever you refused to comply, they’d gang up on you. “If you’re going to be stubborn, oppa, we’ll have to keep a closer eye on you,” Liz said, leading you back to your room and locking the door behind you.

Their sweet smiles masked something darker—a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

An Attempt

One night, you found a chance to snuck out—a window left unlocked, a moment of freedom within reach. You climbed out, your heart pounding as you sprinted into the night.

But before you could reach the gate, Karina stepped out of the shadows, a sinister grin attached to her face.

“Oppa,” she said, her voice calm yet chilling. “Did you really think you could leave us?”

Behind her, the others emerged one by one, their faces shadowed but their intentions clear.

“You’re ours,” Wonyoung whispered, stepping closer. “And we’ll never let you out of our sight, brother.”

The night after Karina and the others caught you trying to sneak out, they didn’t say a word. They didn’t yell, they didn’t cry. Instead, they simply guided you back to the house, their eerie calmness unsettling. Karina spoke softly as she locked the door behind you.

“I hope you learned your lesson, oppa. We don’t want to hurt you. But if you push us, we’ll have no choice.”

Your heart pounded as you stood there, drenched and trapped. You knew you had to tell your dad. He’d understand, right? He had to.

The next morning, you managed to get him alone in his office before he left for yet another business trip.

“Dad, I need to talk to you,” you started, your voice trembling.

He looked up from his laptop, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, son? You look stressed.”

“It’s about… them. My stepsisters. They’ve been acting really strange. They’re controlling everything I do—they won’t let me leave the house. Last night, they even—”

Your dad sighed, cutting you off. “I know they can be a little overbearing, but they’re just being protective. They’re girls, you know? They worry about you.”

“Dad, it’s not normal. They—”

“Listen,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m proud of you for being mature about this. They’ve had a tough time adjusting, too. Give it time. And if it gets too much, just talk to them directly, okay? You’re all family now.”

You stared at him in disbelief, your stomach sinking. “Dad, you don’t understand—”

“I have to catch my flight,” he said, brushing past you. “We’ll talk when I get back. Be good to your sisters, alright? I love you, son.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone in the silence.

Your dad’s absence wasn’t unusual. His work took him overseas for months at a time, and your mom—always tied up in her own international projects—was equally distant. It left you entirely at the mercy of your stepsisters, who wasted no time tightening their grip.

“Did you tell Dad?” Hanni asked innocently later that day, sitting cross-legged on the couch with Danielle.

The way she looked at you—head tilted, smile too sweet—sent a chill down your spine.

“Of course he did,” Chaewon said from the kitchen, her voice light but laced with menace. “Not that it matters. Right, oppa?”

You clenched your fists, refusing to meet their eyes.

A New Plan

Desperation clawed at you as the days dragged on. Your phone was still missing, and every attempt to sneak out was thwarted before it even began. It was as if they always knew what you were planning.

One night, you overheard Karina and Yunjin talking in hushed voices near the stairs.

“He’s been quieter lately,” Karina said. “Good. He’s learning.”

“Still,” Yunjin replied, “we can’t let our guard down. He’s stubborn.”

You realized then that the only way to escape was to outsmart them—to make them think you’d given up.

For the next week, you played along.

You smiled when Wonyoung asked you to help her with her makeup routine, even letting her brush against your arm a little too much.

You joined Danielle and Hanni for movie nights, laughing at their jokes and pretending not to notice how they pressed themselves against you on the couch.

When Liz asked you to cook dinner with her, you obliged, biting back your frustration as she leaned over your shoulder, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re being so good lately, oppa,” Chaewon remarked one evening, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I like it.”

You forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m finally getting used to this family thing.”

Your chance came late one night when you spotted Yunjin leaving her room, keys dangling from her hand. She’d been careless, leaving her door ajar as she went downstairs.

Heart racing, you slipped inside her room and began searching. It didn’t take long to find what you were looking for: your phone, tucked away in her nightstand.

You grabbed it, your fingers shaking as you powered it on. A flood of notifications popped up—missed calls from friends, messages from Mina, and even emails from your professors wondering why you hadn’t shown up to class.

But before you could call for help, the door creaked open behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing, oppa?” Yunjin’s voice was soft, but the anger in her eyes was unmistakable.

You froze, clutching the phone tightly. “I… I just wanted to check something.”

She stepped closer, her expression darkening. “You’re lying.”

Before you could react, the others appeared behind her, one by one, their faces shadowed but their presence overwhelming.

“Oppa,” Karina said, her tone calm but cold. “We trusted you. And this is how you repay us?”

Wonyoung shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I just wanted—”

“You don’t need anything outside of us,” Liz interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion.

Yunjin snatched the phone from your hand, tossing it to the floor. It shattered on impact, the sound echoing through the room.

“Enough,” Karina said, stepping forward. “It seems you still haven’t learned.”

A Dangerous Game

They didn’t lock you in your room this time. Instead, they kept you close, always watching, always near.

When you tried to retreat to the bathroom, Danielle stood outside the door, humming softly.

When you went to bed, Wonyoung insisted on sleeping in your room, claiming she “had nightmares.”

Everywhere you turned, one of them was there, their sweet smiles masking something darker.

“You’ll see, oppa,” Chaewon whispered one night as she tucked the blanket around you, her fingers lingering on your arm. “We’re all you’ll ever need.”

The realization hit you like a tidal wave: there was no escaping them. Not while you were under this roof.

But you weren’t giving up.

Not yet.

The days turned into weeks, and you quickly learned that resistance only made things worse. The sisters weren’t just possessive—they were meticulous, calculating every move you made as if it were a game of chess. You were the pawn, and they were the queens, slowly closing in on you.

“You don’t need anyone else,” Hanni whispered one evening, brushing a lock of hair away from your face as you sat trapped on the couch. Danielle was curled up beside you, her head resting on your shoulder.

“We’re all you’ll ever need, oppa,” Danielle added, her voice a soft melody that sent chills down your spine.

They controlled every aspect of your life now. Your meals were prepared by them, your wardrobe was chosen by them, and your free time was spent under their watchful eyes. Any attempt to rebel was met with swift punishment.

One night, you tried breaking a window to escape, but before you could climb out, Karina and Yunjin dragged you back into the house, their strength surprising.

“We warned you, oppa,” Karina said, her voice icy. “You’re ours. Why can’t you just accept that?”

Yunjin smirked, holding up the shards of broken glass. “If you’re going to act like a child, we’ll have to treat you like one.”

They locked you in your room for three days after that, only letting you out when you promised—no, begged—to behave.

Your mental state began to deteriorate. The isolation, the constant surveillance, the manipulation—it was suffocating. You found yourself second-guessing everything, wondering if maybe they were right.

“We’re just trying to protect you, oppa,” Liz said one afternoon as she caressed your hair, her touch oddly soothing. “The outside world is so dangerous. People out there… they don’t love you like we do.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice hollow.

Wonyoung nodded, her eyes wide and earnest. “Of course we love you. More than anyone else ever could.”

It was in the way they said it—in their unwavering gazes and saccharine smiles—that made you realize just how far they were willing to go.

The Birthday Incident

Your birthday was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a chance to reconnect with the world outside. Instead, it became the turning point—the moment you truly understood there was no escape.

They threw you a party, decorating the house with balloons and streamers. The dining table was piled high with your favorite foods, and a cake sat in the center, candles flickering.

“Make a wish, oppa!” Danielle chirped, clapping her hands.

As you closed your eyes, you thought of freedom. Of running far, far away from this nightmare.

But when you opened your eyes, the sight before you made your blood run cold.

Your phone was there, fixed and placed neatly beside the cake. For a moment, hope flared in your chest.

“You’re letting me have my phone back?” you asked cautiously.

Karina smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course. It’s your special day.”

You grabbed it, your fingers trembling as you powered it on. The screen lit up, and you quickly navigated to your messages.

Only to find them empty.

No calls, no texts, no contacts.

“What… what did you do?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“We cleaned it up for you,” Yunjin said, leaning casually against the table. “No distractions. Just us.”

Your stomach churned as you looked at them, their smiles widening as realization dawned.

“This isn’t love,” you said, your voice trembling. “This is… this is insane.”

Wonyoung tilted her head, her expression almost pitying. “Oh, oppa. You’ll understand someday.”

From that day on, they tightened their grip even further. The locks on the doors were reinforced. The windows were barred. Every move you made was monitored, every word you spoke carefully scrutinized.

When you tried to rebel, they punished you—not with violence, but with manipulation.

“We’re only doing this because we love you,” Chaewon whispered one night as she held your hand, her grip firm. “Why can’t you see that?”

And when you begged for your freedom, they only smiled.

“You don’t need freedom,” Karina said, her voice soft but unyielding. “You have us.”

The Final Descent

One stormy evening, as thunder rumbled in the distance, you sat in the living room, surrounded by them. They were laughing, talking, acting like everything was normal. But you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’ve ruined my life,” you said suddenly, your voice cutting through the laughter.

The room fell silent.

“Oppa,” Hanni said softly, her eyes wide. “Why would you say that?”

“You’ve trapped me here,” you continued, your voice rising. “This isn’t a family. This is a prison.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Karina stood, her expression unreadable as she walked over to you.

“Oppa,” she said, crouching down so she was at eye level. “You need to understand something.”

Her hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You belong to us. And we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it takes.”

The others nodded in unison, their gazes unwavering.

And in that moment, as the storm raged outside and their words echoed in your ears, you realized the truth.

There was no escape…for now..

The storm outside grew more violent, the howling winds rattling the barred windows. As the sisters began retreating to their rooms for the night, you felt the familiar weight of hopelessness settle in your chest. But tonight, something was different. As you stared out the window, lightning briefly illuminated the outside—the gate was ajar. Maybe one of them had forgotten to lock it after bringing in groceries earlier. It was a slim chance, but it was a chance nonetheless.

You waited until the house fell silent, the sisters presumably asleep. Silently, you slipped on your sneakers, heart pounding as you made your way down the creaking staircase. Every sound felt deafening in the stillness, but you couldn’t stop now.

When you reached the door, you froze. The key was still in the lock. A miracle. With shaking hands, you turned it slowly, praying they wouldn’t hear the faint click as the lock disengaged. The moment it did, you pushed the door open and bolted into the storm.

The rain was cold, soaking you instantly as you sprinted down the driveway and toward the open gate. Freedom was within reach. The pounding of your heart drowned out the thunder as you crossed the threshold, stepping into the empty street beyond.

But then, headlights.

You turned just in time to see a car barreling toward you, the driver unable to stop in the rain-slicked road. The impact was sudden and brutal, sending you sprawling onto the pavement. Pain exploded through your body as darkness consumed you.

Waking in a Nightmare

When you finally came to, the bright lights of the hospital room burned your eyes. The beeping of monitors echoed faintly in your ears, and your body felt heavy, restrained by the weight of painkillers and bandages.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice said, and you turned your head to see a nurse standing by your bedside. She smiled kindly, adjusting the IV line in your arm. “You’re lucky. The accident could’ve been much worse.”

For a moment, relief washed over you. You’d escaped. You’d finally gotten away.

“Where am I?” you croaked, your throat dry.

“The city hospital,” the nurse replied. “You’ve been here for a few days. Don’t worry, we’ve been taking good care of you.”

You tried to sit up, but the pain in your ribs forced you back down. “My parents… Did you call them?”

The nurse hesitated, glancing at the clipboard in her hands. “We tried contacting your parents, but they’re both out of the country and couldn’t be reached. So, we contacted the next closest people to you.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

Before you could finish, the door to your room creaked open. One by one, they walked in—Karina, Wonyoung, Hanni, Chaewon, Yunjin, Danielle, Liz. Their perfect faces were painted with expressions of concern, but there was something sinister lurking beneath their sweet smiles.

“Oppa!” Wonyoung cried, rushing to your bedside. “We were so worried about you!”

“You should’ve told us you were leaving,” Karina said, her tone soft yet reproachful. “We could’ve kept you safe.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Yunjin added, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

You stared at them in disbelief, your heart hammering in your chest. “How… How did you find me?”

“We’re family, oppa,” Chaewon said, sitting on the edge of your bed. “We always know where to find you.”

Danielle leaned over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You scared us, you know. But it’s okay. You’re safe now. And we’re not letting you out of our sight again.”

You looked toward the nurse, desperate for help, but she only smiled. “Your sisters have been here every day, taking care of you. You’re lucky to have such a loving family.”

“No,” you whispered, panic rising. “They’re not my family. They’re—”

Hanni shushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips. “Shh, oppa. Don’t upset yourself. You need to rest.”

The nurse nodded. “She’s right. You need to focus on recovering. Your sisters will make sure you have everything you need.”

You wanted to scream, to beg the nurse to call the police, but your body betrayed you, too weak to fight back. The sisters crowded closer, their presence suffocating.

Karina leaned in, her hand brushing against yours. “Don’t worry, oppa. We’ll take you home soon. Everything will be just like it was before.”

“No,” you rasped, tears streaming down your face. “Please. Let me go.”

But their smiles only widened.

“You’re ours,” Wonyoung whispered, her voice dripping with possessiveness. “Forever.”

The days that followed were a blur of enforced care. The sisters rarely left your side, taking turns watching over you. Karina handled the paperwork for your discharge, ensuring you’d return home as soon as possible. Hanni and Yunjin fed you, their hands lingering a little too long as they helped you eat. Wonyoung fluffed your pillows, her touch oddly tender, while Danielle played soft music to “help you relax.”

You quickly realized there was no escape. Not here, not in the hospital, and certainly not once they took you back to the house. The accident had sealed your fate, tethering you to them in a way that felt unbreakable.

As they wheeled you out of the hospital on the day of your discharge, you saw the car waiting for you—sleek, black, and ominous. Karina held the door open, her smile as sweet as poison.

“Welcome home, oppa,” she said softly.

The ride home from the hospital felt suffocating. The rain poured down in sheets, blurring the windows of the van Karina had insisted they use to bring you back. You were silent, your leg still throbbing in its cast, while the others chatted in low voices, as if you weren’t even there.

“Don’t worry, oppa,” Wonyoung chirped from the front seat, turning her head to give you a sweet but unsettling smile. “We’ve made some changes to the house. You’ll love it.”

Your stomach twisted at her words. You had been too weak to resist when they insisted on signing you out of the hospital and taking you home. The nurse’s words still rang in your ears:

“They’re your family now, and they seemed so concerned about you. You’re lucky to have them.”

Lucky. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as the van pulled into the driveway. The house loomed in the darkness, its windows casting faint, flickering light like the eyes of a predator waiting for its prey.

The moment the van stopped, Chaewon and Danielle were by your side, unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you into the wheelchair. Their hands were gentle, almost too careful, but you could feel the iron grip of their control in every movement.

“Careful, oppa,” Danielle murmured, tucking a blanket around your lap. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

The door to the house opened, and Yunjin stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim glow of the lights inside. “Welcome home,” she said softly, her voice carrying an edge of finality.

As they wheeled you inside, your breath caught in your throat. The house you remembered was gone. The cozy warmth and modern elegance had been replaced by something much darker. The walls were painted a muted gray, the windows draped with heavy blackout curtains that allowed no glimpse of the outside world.

But it was the dining room that sent a chill down your spine.

The large dining table had been modified—no, transformed. Each chair was outfitted with thick leather straps on the armrests and legs, as well as a wide belt across the backrest. The table itself had been cleared of its usual decorations, leaving only an eerie emptiness that seemed to magnify the oppressive atmosphere.

“What is this?” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“It’s for your own safety, oppa,” Karina said, stepping in front of you. Her expression was calm, almost soothing, but her eyes betrayed something far more chilling.

“You’re so clumsy,” Wonyoung added with a giggle, her hand brushing against your shoulder as she leaned closer. “We can’t risk you running off and getting hurt again.”

They wheeled you to one of the chairs, and Chaewon knelt beside you, her fingers brushing your cast as she smiled. “See? This way, you’ll always be safe. Always with us.”

Your body tensed as Liz and Hanni began strapping you in, their movements precise and practiced. You tried to resist, but your weakened state made it impossible to fight them off. The straps were snug but not painful, their tightness a cruel reminder of how little freedom you had left.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You don’t have to do this.”

“We do, oppa,” Yunjin said from behind you, her tone soft but unyielding. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. We’re all you need.”

Bound Forever

As the final strap was secured, Karina crouched down in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “This is your home now. There’s nothing out there for you—nothing but pain and loneliness. But here… here you’re loved. Here you’re safe.”

Tears burned in your eyes as the reality of your situation sank in. There would be no more escape attempts, no more fleeting moments of hope. The house had become your prison, and your step sisters were its wardens.

“We’ll take care of you, oppa,” Wonyoung said, her voice almost a whisper as she kissed your cheek.

“Forever,” Chaewon added, her fingers brushing against your hair.

As they stood around you, their smiles unwavering and their eyes filled with an unsettling devotion, you realized the horrifying truth: you weren’t just bound to them by straps or walls. You were bound by their obsession, and there was no escaping it.

Not now. Not ever.

146 notes · View notes

97linelover · 2 days ago

Text

Cafe near the base - Jjk

summary: having a small little café near the army base was nothing special, but what if one day a special someone walks in?

content: Idol Jungkook x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff, drama, café setting, fight mentions, discussions

a/n: something about Military Jungkook makes me uuugghhh... I want him.

Y/N wiped her hands on her apron, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter in her cozy café. Nestled near the outskirts of the city, just a short distance from the military base, her café had become a quiet retreat for soldiers and locals alike. She had inherited the place from her late grandfather, who always said, “A warm cup can heal a cold soul.” It was her sanctuary—and, unknowingly, about to become someone else’s.

The bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Y/N glanced up from the counter to see a young man in a plain black hoodie, his dark hair falling over his eyes. He moved with quiet confidence, but there was something unassuming about him that made her immediately feel at ease.

“Welcome,” she said with a small smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked at the menu board for a moment before responding in a deep, smooth voice. “Just an Americano, please.”

“Coming right up.”

She set to work, glancing at him briefly. He was undeniably handsome, but she didn’t recognize him. To her, he was just another soldier from the base—someone seeking a moment of peace away from their rigorous routines.

He took a seat by the window, his gaze wandering outside. The way he seemed lost in thought piqued her curiosity, but she didn’t want to intrude. When she brought him his coffee, he looked up and offered a faint smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. First time here?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Just transferred to the base recently. Thought I’d explore the area.”

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” she replied warmly. “This place might not look like much, but I promise we have the best coffee around.”

He chuckled, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of something—relief? Gratitude?—in his eyes.

“I can tell,” he said, taking a sip. “It’s good.”

From that day, he started coming in regularly. Sometimes he’d sit and read, other times he’d sketch in a small notebook he always carried. He introduced himself simply as Jungkook, and Y/N didn’t pry further. He seemed to enjoy the anonymity her café offered, and she liked the calm presence he brought.

As weeks passed, their conversations grew longer. They talked about everything from their favorite childhood memories to dreams they hadn’t yet chased. Y/N found herself drawn to him—not just his looks, but the quiet depth he carried, like he was hiding a world she couldn’t quite see.

One evening, as the café neared closing time, Jungkook stayed behind to help her clean up. They worked side by side in comfortable silence until he suddenly spoke.

“Do you ever feel like… you want to escape your own life for a while?”

Y/N paused, the question catching her off guard. “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Why? Do you?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Maybe... There’s a lot of pressure in my… job. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.”

Y/N frowned, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “You can always breathe here,” she said gently.

Jungkook smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, Y/N. That means more than you know.”

What Y/N didn’t know was that the man sweeping her café floor and laughing at her terrible jokes was none other than Jeon Jungkook—the world-famous singer from BTS. The military transfer was a cover for his enlistment, and her café had become his refuge from the spotlight.

As they grew closer, Jungkook found himself torn. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he feared it would change everything. For once, someone saw him as just Jungkook—not the global sensation, not the idol, but a person. And he wasn’t ready to let that go.

One late afternoon, as the golden light spilled through the windows, Y/N handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “You’re kind of mysterious, you know that?” she teased.

“Am I?” he asked, his lips quirking into a small grin.

“Yeah. But I like it. Makes me want to figure you out.”

Jungkook’s chest tightened. He realized then that he’d found something rare in Y/N: a connection untouched by fame or expectations. But the longer he kept his secret, the more he feared what would happen when she discovered who he really was.

For now, he chose to savor the moments—the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her smile, the way her presence made him feel like he could finally breathe.

Over the weeks, Y/N and Jungkook fell into an easy rhythm. Morning coffee runs turned into lingering afternoons, and eventually, late evenings spent talking until the stars dotted the sky. Jungkook began helping her in the café when it got busy, claiming he enjoyed the distraction. Y/N didn’t protest—she liked having him there.

What started as casual conversations about coffee or books had evolved into something much deeper. She found herself laughing more, smiling wider, and looking forward to every moment they spent together. Jungkook’s presence felt like a warm embrace, and though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something about him that made her feel safe.

One Saturday, as the sun dipped behind the mountains near the base, Jungkook arrived at the café with a friend. The man was shorter, with a bright smile that could light up the room and a laugh that seemed to ripple effortlessly through the air.

“Y/N, this is Jimin,” Jungkook introduced him, looking both amused and slightly exasperated as Jimin practically ran up to her.

“Hi!” Jimin greeted warmly. “I’ve heard so much about you. I just had to see this café that Jungkook never stops talking about.”

Y/N blushed under his cheerful gaze, glancing at Jungkook, who rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh, really? I hope it lives up to the hype.”

“It already does,” Jimin said, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. “I mean, the smell of coffee, the cozy vibe—it’s perfect. No wonder he’s always here.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook muttered, clearly embarrassed, though Y/N noticed the soft fondness in his tone.

The three of them ended up sitting at one of the corner tables after closing. Jimin’s infectious energy filled the room as he teased Jungkook and made Y/N laugh until her stomach hurt. It was the first time she’d seen Jungkook so relaxed, his usual quietness giving way to bursts of laughter and playful jabs at Jimin.

As the evening stretched on, Jimin leaned toward Y/N and said with a wink, “You’ve got no idea how much this guy talks about you at the base. It’s kind of sickening, honestly.”

“Jimin!” Jungkook groaned, his face turning red as Y/N’s eyes widened.

“Oh, come on, Kook,” Jimin said with a laugh. “You’re practically glowing every time you come back from this place.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering. She glanced at Jungkook, who avoided her gaze but couldn’t hide the small, shy smile playing on his lips.

After Jimin left, the two of them stood outside the café under the clear night sky. The air was crisp, and the stars shimmered brightly overhead.

“I’m sorry about Jimin,” Jungkook said, his voice low. “He… has no filter.”

“Don’t apologize,” Y/N said softly, leaning against the doorframe. “I like him. He’s funny. And… he seems to care about you a lot.”

Jungkook nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. After a moment, he looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Y/N, I—” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” she asked, stepping closer.

He looked at her for a long moment, as if searching for something in her expression. “Nothing. I just… I’m glad I met you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Me too.”

The days turned into weeks, and their connection deepened. Jungkook and Y/N spent more time together, sharing stolen moments in the quiet of the café or walking along the trails near the base. Jimin occasionally joined them, his playful energy balancing the quiet intensity between Y/N and Jungkook.

Still, she remained unaware of who Jungkook truly was. He’d mastered the art of blending in—wearing simple clothes, keeping a low profile, and avoiding anything that might reveal his identity. But with every passing day, his secret weighed heavier on him.

One evening, as they sat on a bench overlooking the city lights, Y/N leaned her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re kind, thoughtful, and…” She paused, smiling. “Mysterious.”

Jungkook chuckled, though it lacked his usual lightness. “Mysterious, huh?”

She nodded. “It’s like you’re carrying this big secret. But I don’t mind. I just… I hope you trust me enough to tell me someday.”

He stiffened slightly but quickly relaxed. “I do trust you, Y/N. More than you know.”

For now, he told himself, he could hold onto this. Hold onto her. Because in her eyes, he wasn’t Jungkook the superstar. He was just Jungkook—a man falling hopelessly in love.

When he walked through the door that evening, her heart skipped, as it always did. Jungkook wore his usual black hoodie, his hair slightly messy, and that small, shy smile she had come to adore.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, leaning on the counter. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

Y/N swallowed hard, wiping her hands on her apron before meeting his gaze. “Jungkook, can we talk? Really talk?”

His smile faltered slightly, and she noticed the flicker of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on?”

She motioned toward one of the booths in the corner, and he followed her, sitting across from her as she fidgeted with her hands. The words caught in her throat, but she forced herself to push through.

“Jungkook,” she began, her voice trembling, “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll just… say it. I’ve fallen for you. I care about you—so much more than I thought possible.”

His eyes widened slightly, and she pressed on before she lost her nerve.

“You’re kind, thoughtful, and you’ve become such a big part of my life. I don’t know what you’re hiding, and I don’t need to know. I just know that I—” Her voice cracked, but she managed to whisper, “I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Jungkook looked down at the table, his hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“Jungkook?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“I—” He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “I can’t do this, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

Her heart shattered at his words. “What do you mean? Did I… do something wrong?”

“No.” His voice was strained, his hands trembling as he shoved them into his pockets. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re… perfect. But this—us—it can’t happen.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she stood, desperate to understand. “Why? If you feel the same way, why are you pushing me away?”

He looked at her then, his eyes filled with pain. “Because I’m not who you think I am. I can’t give you the life you deserve. And if you knew the truth about me, you’d understand why this has to end.”

“Then tell me,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

But he just shook his head, stepping back toward the door. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, tears streaming down her face as the door jingled shut behind him.

For days, Jungkook didn’t come to the café. Y/N tried to focus on her work, but the emptiness he left behind was unbearable. She replayed their conversation over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of it.

What was he hiding? Why couldn’t he trust her?

Jungkook, meanwhile, was drowning in his own turmoil. He stayed on base, avoiding everyone, even Jimin. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—the way she looked at him, her voice when she said she loved him.

He loved her too. He had from the very beginning. But how could he tell her? How could he burden her with the truth? He wasn’t just a soldier stationed at the base. He was Jeon Jungkook, a global superstar whose every move was scrutinized. His life wasn’t his own, and if Y/N knew the truth, her life wouldn’t be hers either.

“You’re an idiot,” Jimin said one evening, barging into Jungkook’s room without knocking.

Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. “Don’t start, Jimin.”

“No, I will start,” Jimin snapped, crossing his arms. “You love her, don’t you?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, but the look on his face said enough.

“Then why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

“Because I’m protecting her!” Jungkook shouted, standing abruptly. “If she knew who I really was, everything would change. She wouldn’t look at me the same way. And even if she did, the world wouldn’t leave her alone. They’d dig into her life, follow her everywhere—she deserves better than that.”

Jimin softened, his expression turning sympathetic. “But don’t you think she should be the one to decide that? You’re not protecting her, Jungkook. You’re just running away.”

Jungkook didn’t respond, his chest heaving as he stared at the floor.

Jimin sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in love with her. And I can tell she’s in love with you. You have something rare, Jungkook. Don’t throw it away because you’re scared.”

But fear was all Jungkook felt. Fear of losing her, fear of hurting her, fear of what the truth might do to the fragile happiness they’d found together.

So he stayed away, even as his heart broke a little more with every passing day.

Jungkook stood outside the café, staring at the familiar wooden door with its chipped paint and small “Open” sign hanging in the window. It was evening, the golden light spilling across the cobblestone street, and the faint scent of coffee lingered in the air.

But the door wouldn’t open.

He’d been coming here every day for the past week, hoping to see her. Every time, he found it locked—or worse, saw the flicker of movement inside as Y/N disappeared into the back, ignoring him completely. She was shutting him out, and he couldn’t blame her.

Jungkook exhaled deeply, his hands tightening into fists. He had no right to feel hurt, not after what he’d done. But the pain in his chest was suffocating. He had never realized how much the café, her smile, and the warmth she brought into his life had meant to him—until he’d lost it all.

That night he had walked away from her, thinking it was the right thing to do. He thought he was protecting her from the chaos of his world. But instead, he had shattered her trust and his own heart.

Inside the café, Y/N leaned against the back door, her hands trembling. She had seen him through the window, standing there like he always did, his dark eyes scanning the room as if he might find her. But she couldn’t face him—not after everything.

How dare he come back after breaking her heart? After leaving her standing there, vulnerable and exposed, as if her feelings meant nothing to him?

She wiped away an angry tear and straightened, forcing herself to focus on cleaning up. She had work to do, and she wasn’t going to let him distract her again.

But even as she moved around the café, stacking chairs and wiping tables, her mind kept drifting back to him. She hated how much she still missed him, how much she still loved him despite everything.

And she hated herself for the part of her that wished he would explain—give her a reason, any reason, to believe that what they’d had wasn’t a lie.

Jungkook stayed outside for hours, leaning against the wall across the street, watching as the lights in the café dimmed one by one. He wanted to knock, to beg her to let him in, but every time he stepped closer, he hesitated.

He thought about her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams. He thought about the quiet moments they had shared, the way she had made him feel like he wasn’t Jeon Jungkook, the idol, but just Jungkook—the man.

But now, he was just a stranger to her.

As the last light went out, he whispered into the empty night, “I’m so sorry, Y/N."

But one rainy afternoon, as she stood behind the counter, wiping down mugs, there was a knock at the door. She glanced up and immediately froze.

It was Jungkook.

He stood there, soaked from the rain, his hoodie clinging to him. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept. He looked… broken.

“Y/N,” he called through the glass, his voice muffled but desperate. “Please. Just hear me out.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. For a moment, she almost considered unlocking the door. But then she remembered the pain of him walking away, the emptiness he had left behind.

So she shook her head, turned the sign to “Closed,” and walked to the back, leaving him standing in the rain.

Weeks had passed since Jungkook had stood outside her café, silently pleading for her to let him in. Y/N had kept her distance, her heart wrapped in the protective walls she had built. But no matter how hard she tried to move on, her thoughts always returned to him. His smile, his quiet warmth, the way he had made her feel seen.

One evening, as she closed the café, there was a knock on the door. She froze, expecting to see him again, but this time it wasn’t the rain-soaked figure she had grown used to. It was Jimin.

“Y/N,” he said gently, stepping inside when she hesitated. “Please don’t shut me out too.”

She sighed, setting down the towel she’d been holding. “What do you want, Jimin?”

“I came to speak for him. I know you don’t want to see him, but he’s…” He hesitated, his usually playful demeanor replaced with sincerity. “He’s a mess, Y/N. He’s been hurting, and it’s all because of you.”

“Because of me?” she snapped, anger bubbling to the surface. “He left me, Jimin. He broke my heart.”

“I know,” Jimin said softly, stepping closer. “But do you know why?”

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped. The truth was, she didn’t. He had never given her the answer she deserved.

Jimin smiled sadly. “He’s been scared, Y/N. Not of you, but of himself. Of his world and what it might do to you if you knew who he really was. But he loves you—more than I think he’s ever loved anyone.”

Her heart twisted painfully at his words, and Jimin placed a folded note on the counter. “He asked me to give you this. If you’re ready to listen, meet him tonight.”

She stared at the note long after Jimin had left, her hands trembling as she opened it.

It was simple:

“The park by the hill. 8 PM. Please give me one last chance to show you how much you mean to me. – Jungkook”

Y/N arrived at the park just as the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. She spotted Jungkook waiting beneath a streetlamp, his hands in his pockets, his gaze distant.

When he saw her, his breath hitched. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t come. But there she was, standing in front of him, more beautiful than ever.

“Y/N,” he breathed, stepping closer. “Thank you for coming.”

She crossed her arms, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions she felt. “You said you had something to say. So say it.”

Jungkook nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I’ve been a coward,” he admitted. “I pushed you away because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. “Why, Jungkook? Why did you leave?”

He hesitated, then reached for her hand. “Because I’m not who you think I am,” he said softly. “I’m not just a soldier. I’m…” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. From BTS.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “BTS? The band?”

He nodded, his heart racing. “That’s me. That’s my life. I thought if you knew, it would ruin everything. I didn’t want the attention, the cameras, the chaos, to touch you. But in trying to keep you safe, I lost the one thing that mattered most—us.”

Y/N stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. Slowly, she shook her head. “You think I care about any of that?”

He blinked, stunned by her words.

“I don’t care who you are or what you do,” she continued, her voice steady. “I fell in love with you, Jungkook. The man who laughs at my bad jokes, who helps me wipe tables, who makes me feel like I matter. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jungkook’s heart swelled, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you from the moment I stepped into your café. I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

As the first drops of rain began to fall, Y/N looked up at him, her tears mixing with the soft drizzle. “Then don’t push me away again.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down, their lips meeting in a kiss that felt like the world had stopped spinning. The rain poured around them, but neither of them cared.

They danced under the streetlamp, soaked but laughing, their hearts finally beating in sync. They kissed again and again, neither wanting the night to end.

For the first time, Jungkook wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t hiding. He was simply a man in love, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

And Y/N, standing there in his arms, knew that no matter what came next, they would face it together.

The day of Jungkook’s discharge came with clear blue skies and the kind of warmth that hinted at the arrival of spring. The military base was bustling with activity—friends, family, and fans gathered to celebrate the soldiers returning to civilian life. Y/N stood at a distance, hidden near the edge of the park overlooking the base.

She couldn’t get closer, not with the security stationed everywhere. The crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook was overwhelming, and Y/N knew she didn’t belong there. She wasn’t a part of his world—not the world that demanded the constant flashing of cameras and the protective presence of bodyguards.

Still, she couldn’t help but watch.

From afar, she saw him standing tall in his uniform, surrounded by his bandmates and a sea of fans. His smile was bright, his hand raised in a wave, but she knew him well enough to see the weariness behind it.

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride as she took it all in. He had worked so hard, given so much of himself, and she loved him for every part of it. But she also felt the ache—the deep, quiet pain of knowing she couldn’t be there beside him.

As the ceremony wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, she turned to leave, her chest tight. She had seen enough. She had come to support him, even if it was from a distance.

But just as she stepped away, a familiar voice called out.

“Y/N!”

She froze, her breath hitching. When she turned, there he was—Jungkook, running toward her, his uniform slightly wrinkled and his hair falling messily over his forehead.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” she asked, glancing nervously at the base behind him. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your team? With the fans?”

“They can wait,” he said, stopping in front of her, slightly out of breath. “You can’t.”

Her eyes widened as he reached for her hands, his grip firm but trembling. “I saw you standing there, Y/N. I knew you’d come.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” she admitted softly. “I’m so proud of you, Jungkook. But… this isn’t my place. I don’t belong here.”

His face fell, and he shook his head. “Don’t say that. You belong with me.”

She bit her lip, her eyes searching his. “Do I? Jungkook, look at your life. Look at everything that comes with it. I don’t know if I can—”

He cut her off, his voice low and filled with pain. “I know. That’s why I need to tell you something.”

Her stomach twisted as he let go of her hands, stepping back slightly.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will. But my life—it’s not easy. It’s cameras, schedules, people watching my every move. It’s exhausting, and it’s lonely, and it’s not fair to you.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “So what are you saying, Jungkook?”

He swallowed hard, his own eyes glistening. “I’m saying I can’t drag you into this. I can’t ask you to give up your peace, your freedom, for a life that will never feel truly yours.”

Her heart broke at his words, but deep down, she understood. She had seen the way his world operated, the constant pressure and scrutiny. It wasn’t the quiet life they had shared at the café, the one that had felt so natural, so right.

“So this is it?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, cupping her face with his hands. “If I could choose any life, Y/N, it would be with you. But I can’t change who I am, and I won’t let my life ruin yours.”

The tears spilled over as she nodded, her hands resting on his. “I hate this, but… I understand.”

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of their unspoken love hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead.

“You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

She closed her eyes, committing the feel of his touch to memory. “And you’ve made me feel more alive than I ever thought possible.”

As he pulled away, their gazes locked one last time. Then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward the base, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he was leaving behind.

Y/N watched him go, her heart breaking with every step he took. But she stayed strong, knowing that sometimes, love meant letting go—even when it was the hardest thing in the world.

And as the sun set behind the mountains, she whispered into the quiet air, “Goodbye, Jungkook. I’ll always love you.”

It had been two years since Y/N had left the small café near the military base behind, two years since she had last seen Jungkook. In that time, she had built a new life for herself, pouring her heart into her dream of opening a café in Seoul.

Her new café, The Golden Bean, had quickly become a neighborhood favorite. It was cozy, tucked between tall buildings, with large windows that let in the sunlight. She loved it here—the bustling streets of Seoul, the friendly locals who had become regulars, and the sense of pride she felt every time someone complimented her coffee or her pastries.

But there were moments when her mind would wander back to him. Jungkook. The boy with the soft eyes and the tender smile who had stolen her heart. She had watched him grow from afar, his career reaching new heights. His face was on billboards, his voice on every radio station. He was bigger than ever, and yet he still felt like the boy she had danced with in the rain.

One quiet afternoon, Y/N decided to close the café early and take a walk through the nearby park. The air was crisp, the sun warm on her face as she strolled beneath the cherry blossom trees, their petals fluttering down like soft snow.

She was lost in thought, admiring the beauty around her, when she heard the sound of fast footsteps and the heavy breathing of someone running. Before she could react, a golden retriever came bounding toward her, its tongue lolling and tail wagging.

“Whoa, hey there!” she laughed, crouching down as the dog nearly toppled her over. The dog’s fur was soft beneath her hands, and its warm brown eyes sparkled with mischief as it licked her cheek.

She giggled, rubbing its ears. “You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”

“Bam! Stop it!”

The familiar voice froze her in place. Slowly, Y/N looked up, her heart pounding.

There he was.

Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark hair slightly messy, wearing a simple hoodie and joggers. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his wide eyes fixed on her.

“Y/N?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands fell away from Bam as she straightened, her breath catching. “Jungkook…”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the world around them fading into the background. It felt like time had stopped, like the universe had conspired to bring them together again.

“I—I didn’t expect to see you here,” he stammered, stepping closer.

“Me neither,” she said, her voice soft. She glanced down at the dog. “Bam’s yours?”

He nodded, smiling nervously. “Yeah, he’s my boy. He got loose during our run. Sorry if he bothered you.”

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “He didn’t. He’s sweet.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other, the years of distance melting away. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I’m… good,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. “I opened a café here in Seoul.”

His eyes lit up with pride. “That’s amazing, Y/N. I always knew you’d do it.”

She felt a pang in her chest at his words, the warmth of his support washing over her. “And you… You’ve been doing incredible things. I’ve seen you everywhere.”

Jungkook’s smile faltered slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s been… a lot. But it doesn’t feel as good as it should.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, then met her eyes, his voice raw. “Because you weren’t there to share it with me.”

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as his words hung in the air.

“Y/N,” he continued, stepping closer. “I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, by keeping you away from my crazy life. But not a day has gone by where I haven’t missed you. Seeing you here, now—it feels like fate.”

She stared at him, her emotions swirling in her chest. “Jungkook, your life is so different from mine. It’s—”

“I don’t care,” he said firmly, cutting her off. “I’ve had all the success I could ever dream of, but none of it means anything without you. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him, his expression filled with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Her heart felt like it might burst. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook. So much.”

He took her hand, his grip warm and steady. “Then let me prove to you that we can make this work. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t walk away again.”

She smiled through her tears, nodding as she stepped closer. “I won’t.”

As the cherry blossoms fell around them, Jungkook pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let go again. Bam barked happily, circling around them as they laughed through their tears.

And in that moment, beneath the trees and the open sky, it felt like everything had fallen into place—like they had found their way back to where they were always meant to be.

#kpop #jungkook #jk #jungkook angst #love #happy #ff #au #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts #bts au

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yunmeng-jiang · 3 days ago

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I put this in the tags of something I reblogged recently, but I'm going to say it again: it is my firm opinion that fix-it fics where Jin Guangyao dies don't actually solve every problem, and therefore cannot be ideal fix-its.

It's explicitly stated in the novel (and at least implied in the live-action; I'm still only about three-quarters done with my rewatch so I can't say I remember everything 100 percent) that the jianghu was better off when JGY was the Chief Cultivator than it was before or after. No matter what you believe his motivations were, he demonstrably improved the lives of the common people, especially peasants and non-cultivators, assisted smaller sects who had few resources, and ushered in a golden age of peace and prosperity in the jianghu. Once Jin Guangshan died, JGY got rid of the demonic cultivators that his father had sponsored, cut down on corruption in the sect, and ruled in a benevolent and generous way, despite the prejudice against him due to the circumstances of his birth. It's pretty clear to me that JGY is the best option here. Plus, it gives the other characters the freedom to do what they want instead of shoving them into a role that's not suited to their personality or how they want to live their lives.

In a fix-it that's actually interested in creating a good outcome for everyone, JGY stays alive, but is not put into the situations he faces in canon where the only options are "do something horrible, or die." He doesn't want to be a bad guy - he just wants to be safe. A true fix-it gives him different choices, ones that don't result in danger or destruction; he's allowed to make decisions that end well for him and for everyone else involved.

Some things, I think, can't be avoided - at least, not without making a drastic change. It's extremely difficult, for example, to give NMJ a long life; he would have to be a totally different person, the lore around the Nie cultivation would have to be completely redone, or he would have to go through some kind of life-changing event that made him give up cultivation forever in order for that to happen. But the bad things that JGY does in canon, he only does because he feels like he has no other choice. He doesn't need to die in order to prevent him from doing those things - he just needs better options.

#jin guangyao #it's not that hard to fix things for him. you just need to tweak the situation a bit #you can start as early as getting his mom out of the brothel when he's still a kid‚ or as late as... well. that one kind of depends i guess #killing nmj is definitely a point of no return #but if he doesn't do that you could argue that nmj will just keep on trying to kill him until it finally sticks #so either he needs to have a chance to do something that convinces nmj to get off his case or you need to go earlier #having jgs drop dead of something unrelated fairly early on is a pretty reliable way to change stuff up imo #yunmeng bee posts #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #chen qing ling #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mo xiang tong xiu #mxtx

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teenidlegirl · 2 days ago

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⠀⠀౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess⠀♡⠀𝓒hapter 𝓔ighteen ۪ ׂ 𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you and miguel finally have your big conversation. he finally gets the chance to explain himself, you learn a heartbreaking truth, and figure out where to go next.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀fluff, angst, pregnancy, background stories, past character death, past violence, flashbacks, mentions of blood, trauma, emotional distress, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

the smell of pancakes awakes you, filling up your senses. slowly opening your eyes, your remember everything from yesterday. after the stupid fight between joel and miguel, you took miguel back home to patch him up and demanded that he should stay the night. he obeyed like a puppy, no matter how many times he rejected the offer. you also realize this is the first time miguel has been in your home in two months. the last time he was here, miguel walked out and disappeared for three weeks. now, he’s back and making breakfast in your kitchen.

you snap out of thought when a white fluff ball walks towards your face. the sight makes you smile as luna greets you with happy licks and a wagging tail. after saying good morning to your dog, you get up from bed and put on a cardigan over your nightgown to shield you from the chilly morning air. sipping on your fuzzy slippers and scooping luna in your arms, you head to the kitchen and find miguel cooking. his broad back faced to you. that navy blue compression shirt hugs his muscles so perfectly. the way his back muscles ripple as he maneuvers around the kitchen.

goddamn that is a sight you miss so much. to see him again, in the flesh, especially in your home. just a cute domestic scene of the man you still love. you really miss miguel so much it hurts.

but the pain that he inflicted on you hurts still. although you’re happy to see him and have him in here after a long time, that doesn’t erase the heartbreak miguel left behind when he left you alone to deal with a life-changing situation for three weeks. those were the shittiest three weeks of your life. three weeks of crying. three weeks of pain. miguel caused that, the very same man cooking breakfast in your kitchen at this moment. now that he’s here, you have to know where the fuck he was during those three weeks. it’s the question that never left your mind.

as he serves a plate meant for you, miguel turns around not expected to see you there standing at the opposite side of the kitchen island. “oh buenas dias, amor. i was gonna take this to you so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed.” he offers a sheepish grin.

there goes your heart fluttering because of his kindness, against your opposing thoughts. “the smell of pancakes woke me up, i had to get out of bed.”

your joke makes him chuckle lightly. “you still should get back in bed, i’ll bring this to you.”

“no, it’s okay. i need to wash my sheets anyways. now gimme those pancakes, pretty please.” you hop on one of the barstools with much glee.

miguel couldn’t resist the cute smile of yours, a sight that he misses so dearly.

you enjoy your pancakes while miguel cleans up the kitchen. damn, those pancakes are delicious. you forgot how much you miss his cooking. you remember how great of a cook he is but damn do you miss eating the food he made. resurfaced memories of the mornings and evenings miguel would cook, either at your place or his, when you were dating. chitchatting and sometimes goofing around while cooking delicious meals. his food always hit the spot, even simple as pancakes.

moving on to a much more serious topic, you wanted to know of his condition and if anything improved overnight. the memories of those awful bruises still makes your heart squeeze painfully.

“how are you feeling?”

“a bit better but some places still hurts like shit but i’ll be fine. that asshole didn’t do that much damage.” he rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

“still, he hurt you enough.”

miguel notices the concern laced in your tone, his heart swells. “i’ll be okay, mi amor. i promise.” he leans a bit over the island to find your eyes, reassuring you that he will be fine.

your concerned eyes meet his serious yet reassuring eyes. you know he will be fine but you can’t not be still concerned about his health. no matter the circumstances, your heart still beats and aches for him. you simply offer a small smile then continue focusing on your breakfast.

miguel lets you eat in peace as he cleans up the kitchen, washing and putting away dishes. once he finished, he can’t help but silently admire you. your disheveled hair, slightly droopy eyes, and sleepy face. every detail of you is so precious. the gorgeous warm hue of the morning sun makes your figure glow beautifully, as if an angel sits across from him.

you are an angel, his angel.

god he missed you so much. to wake up and see you there in the same place as him. to have you there in general, you gracing him with your angelic presence. miguel misses waking up to find you beside him in bed. the softness of you against his roughness. your warmth smoothing him as he awakens, the only source preventing his nightmares. sharing these cute small moments with you while cooking, eating, cleaning, shopping, walking, just anything.

the longer he admires you in silence, realization creeps up to him. you two agreed to reserve the big conversation today after a good long rest from yesterday’s shitshow. suddenly, anxiety invades his body. miguel is nervous as hell to address the elephant in the room, mainly due to your reaction and fear that his reasons won’t be justifiable. he imprinted a large scar on you that will forever be there, it will never heal, not for a long time.

but this will only be his chance to explain himself. miguel can’t lose that opportunity, not when it can lead to a possible future with you and the baby. however, this cute quiet moment between you two right now does not mean things are back to normal. it does not mean it will be like that after the conversation. it will be your decision whether to forgive him or accept his reasons and determine the outcome. it will be your final word.

you also are nervous as hell. a much needed conversation yet you are afraid to discuss it. mainly because of what will be the outcome and future of your relationship. you desperately need to know his reasons. despite the quiet moment right now, the anger and resentment still lingers, bubbling inside you. the pain he left you remains in your fragile heart. the same heart beating with intense anxiety.

it’s the calm before the storm.

you finish your breakfast, which was absolutely delicious, and about to get up from your seat to out away the now dirty plate until a calloused hand stops you by gently taking the plate from your hands.

“hey, i got it.” you pout.

his heart flutters at that pout. goddamnit you’re so adorable. “i got it, preciosa. you stay there.”

“but i just wanted to—”

“no buts, i’ll do everything.” he cuts you off softly with a smile that makes your heart leap once again.

you know this is his attempt of making things up to you. it’s a small start yet it doesn’t change anything or erase the pain. miguel knows it as well.

“we need uh… we need to talk about… y’know?”

a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “we do… uh… let’s head to the couch to be more comfortable, ¿si?”

you nod, hop off the bar stool, and head to the couch. you sit on one end and miguel on the other, some distance between you two. luna comes up to snuggle with you on your lap. anxiety invades both your bodies. now it’s time to discuss this situation, learn the truth, and find a solution, or not. but nevertheless, you were ready to know the truth.

miguel is the more nervous reck, practically sweating his ass off due the anxiety invading his veins like a virus. this is his one and only opportunity.

“i regret what i did… it was a mistake i’ll regret for the rest of my life because leaving you was the stupidest mistake of my life.” his sad eyes meet yours. “i promised to never hurt you pero… i did the one thing i swore to never do… and i hate myself for it.” he adverts his gaze, feeling undeserving often look at you because of the shame and guilt.

you can only offer a pitiful glance. ever since he returned, you have noticed the self-loathing consuming him whole. the guilty and shameful glint in his eyes every time they meet yours.

“i deserve all of your anger and frustration. i hurt you and saying sorry won’t fix anything, it won’t take away the pain i caused you.” a heavy sigh left his lips as he bring up a hand and rubs the temples of his forehead. “i-i was scared… i was afraid that i—”

your brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern. what was miguel afraid of?

another heavy sigh. “when you said you were pregnant, i panicked… i just… i just couldn’t believe it. i couldn’t believe i would be a father, that i would have a baby… i never considered it before and… i was so… scared.” he lowers his hand but never looks back up to face you, instead down at his lap, too afraid to meet your eyes. “i was scared of becoming a father and having a baby because… i would fail you both…”

your frown deepens. “fail us? miguel, what do you mean?” how could he fail you and the baby? it doesn’t make sense. now you’re more concerned.

he had to reveal the truth.

“gabriel… you know that him and i joined together?”

miguel didn’t need to look at you to see you nod, just from his peripheral. he feels his heart aching, proving how hard it was to talk about his brother because the pain and guilt are still strong. you can see him struggling. the way he’s hunched over as if he’s in pain. eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed deeply, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, knees bouncing. you just want to scoot over and hug him. you almost do but he then continues.

“one mission… it was more intense than others.” he starts off quietly. “it all went wrong unfortunately, we were outnumbered, things went downhill so fast and…” a sob that was threatening to escape was bitten back down his throat as flashbacks of that mission infiltrates his mind. the closer he was to the memory, the harder it was hold back the tears.

flashback of the bullet striking through gabriel’s shoulder, hitting an artery. miguel’s heart stops as his brother collapses onto the ground while the rest of the team fight off the enemy. panic invades his veins as he rushed to his wounded brother, collecting him in his arms and seeking shelter behind a wall, ignoring the pleads of his squad.

“s-shit…” gabriel groans in pain. “definitely hit the spot.” a weak chuckle escapes his lips.

“you’re okay… you’re okay. you’re gonna be okay, hermano.” its also as if miguel is telling himself that, allowing the panic to consume him.

the younger o'hara shakes his head slighty, a weak smile on his lips that are slowly dripping in red. “i-i don’t think t-this time, pendejo…”

“no, no, no. you’re gonna be okay, gabri. ¿me oyes? you’re gonna be fine.”

but the red ooze dripping from gabriel’s lips and the color draining from his skin said otherwise. he was losing him, he was losing his baby brother.

“d-don’t worry a-about me…” a cough of blood makes miguel’s heart ache immensely. “i-i finally g-got to be who i-i wanted to b-be… e-especially contigo, hermano…”

tears swell in his eyes as miguel watched his brother take one final breath and heart beats one last time. a scream of agony erupts from his throat as he clings onto his brother and break into tears.

“miguel?…”

the angelic tone of your voice snaps him out of that horrific memory and looks to see your hand rested on his arm then up to meet your eyes. his own swelled with tears. miguel didn’t realized how close you are, now sitting right beside him.

seeing those gorgeous brown eyes swelled with tears breaks your heart. he was so lost in thought to the point of panicking. you didn’t hesitate to move over and comfort him, you were so worried. you just wanted to pull him into your arms and hug him. miguel shuts his eyes and turns away from you, concealing the tears and guilt.

“gabriel died in combat.”

your heart drops at the heartbreaking revelation.

gabriel died?… now it all makes sense why he was so hesitant to talk about his brother.

he lost him.

miguel fought hard against the tears but no avail, he allowed the dam to break. you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace, which he accepts immediately. collapsing into your arms, holding you tightly, gripping onto the material of your cardigan as if he’s afraid to let you go, that you would slip out of his arms just like gabriel, as he sobs into your shoulder.

each sob of his breaks a piece of your heart, to the point of your own eyes swelling into tears. it hurts you to hear him break down but you are there to catch him. you embrace his sobbing, shaking figure tightly. digging your fingers into his hair, his grip on your tightens as a response. you don’t ever let go.

“lo siento mucho, miguel…” your soft voice whispers in his ear, making him embrace you tighter.

you feel utterly heartbroken for him. he lost his baby brother in combat, that is traumatic. by what miguel has told you, he and gabriel had a great sibling relationship. he was always by gabriel side for everything. miguel deeply cared about his baby brother. the one person who understood him.

eventually, miguel’s sobs die down and manages to catch his breath after releasing an infinite amount of tears. that left a large wet stain on your cardigan but you don’t care, miguel was all that mattered.

very slowly, his head rises from your now soaked shoulder and leans back to give you some space but still remains close. you look at him but his glossy eyes don’t meet yours. with such tenderness, you wipe his tears with your thumb as you cradle his face. miguel still doesn’t look back but gently rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. you simply sit there in silence, basking one another’s presence as miguel takes time to calm down.

after a few minutes of silence, you decide to break it by whispering to him. “you okay?…”

miguel nods slowly and exhales heavily, leaning into your touch as you continue caressing his face. he had to catch his breath to calm down but really you were what calmed him down. utterly melting under your touch, the softness and warmth of your body relaxes him immediately. you are his anchor.

“i was sacred…” barely a whisper yet laced with such remorse and regret. “i was scared of losing you and the baby like i lost gabriel.”

you look up at him with furrowed brows of concern but he still hasn’t meet your eyes.

“losing us? you won’t lose us, amor.” you reassure him in a gentle manner, caressing his cheeks as a way to make him look at you but no avail.

miguel leans away and finally looks back, frowning however. “i failed gabriel, what if i fail you? i failed to protect him, what if i fail to protect you both?”

you shake your head frantically. “you won’t, miguel. what happened to gabriel wasn’t your fault—”

“yes it was.” he cuts you off, turning away but you stop him by gently gripping his chin to look back.

“no, it was not.” a bit firm but still soft. “i know you blame yourself but it wasn’t your fault. just know that gabriel was happy to be with his brother, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere or anyone else but you.”

those glossy brown eyes soften a little by your words. perhaps you’re right, gabriel was at least safe in his arms during his last moments. at least miguel was there with him. it would have been worse if it was any other scenario and miguel didn’t want to think that.

“miguel, escúchame…” those same soft brown eyes look up at you as you cradle his face. “i know you’re afraid and now i understand why… but i promise you won’t lose us, you won’t fail us. we won’t go anywhere, we’ll always be here, with you.”

miguel swears he could cry once again. all he can do is just stare at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. heart sudden refilled with love that you always provide. those ugly doubts and fears slowly fade away by your words of comfort and reassurance. he rests his hands on top of yours, gives them a gentle squeeze then brings them up to his lips and places a soft kiss to them as a sign of affection and gratitude. the act emits a soft smile on your face.

“i know we just had a heartbreaking conversation but… i still need to know what happened those three weeks.” you look at him hesitantly.

miguel knows you’re right. he admitted his fears and reasons but still hasn’t fully explained himself, especially during those shitty three weeks.

“i know…” his hands release yours as he leans away, turning away to run a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “i… i have this hidden cabin off the outskirts of town, that’s where i stayed during those weeks. i didn’t do anything. i barely ate or slept, always had nightmares every time.”

your brows furrowed concerningly. “nightmares?”

another heavy sigh escapes his lips. “of you and the baby… me dying in combat and leaving you alone with the baby… failing you both…”

another revelation that shatters your heart. his trauma has worsened to the extent of having nightmares of dying and losing his family.

this poor, poor man.

“my phone was completely off, i never received any calls or texts. when i did turned it back on, i saw your text about your doctors appointment and i cried…”

your eyes widen slightly in surprise. he… cried?

“you went alone… i wasn’t there for you… i hatred myself for that, i still do.”

the unpleasant memory of your first appointment flashed across your mind. how utterly heartbroken and abounded you felt sitting in the waiting area full of couples. how anxious you felt when you entered the examination room, learning about your pregnancy, and seeing your baby for the first time. how angry you felt when you mentioned to your OB that miguel wasn��t in the picture.

one last sigh from his lips before miguel turns to you with pleading eyes. “mi alma, i know what i did is unforgivable and i’ll forever regret it for the rest of my fucking life. no amount of sorrys could ever take away the pain i caused you. i hurt you and i will never forgive myself. you have every reason to hate me, i deserve it all.” very slowly, his hand gently takes yours. “but know that i love you, i never stopped loving you and never will. eres mi mundo, mi corazón, mi alma gemela, todo.”

it was impossible to not feel bashful by all the adorable endearments. every nickname miguel gave you, it never fails to make your heart flutter.

“i know i can’t go back change the past, i know i can’t take away your pain from those three weeks but i promise you that i want to be part of this.” miguel said sincerely, eyes boring into yours. “i want to have this baby with you, i want to be a father, i want to be a family and raise this baby contigo.”

sudden a rush of adoration flows through you, almost overwhelming but… in a good way? his behavior since last night proved how different he was, he’s still the same kind man you fell in love with and how he wasn’t against having the baby. the way his eyes widen then soften and smiled when he touched your baby bump for the first time proved to you that miguel already loved the baby. you want nothing more than for him to be a part of this family and have this baby together. but that doesn’t mean the consequences of his actions are ignored.

“i… i’m so happy to hear that, miguel, and i want nothing more than to do this together but…” your tone turns more serious. “i can’t forgive you, not yet.”

miguel expected that and he did not blame you one bit because he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.

“you hurt me, miguel. i know it was bomb dropping news, it was a shitshow, i take part for being irresponsible about the pill, and that it triggered your fears but you hurt me real fucking bad.”

he did and miguel will never forgive himself.

“those were the shittiest three weeks of my life. you weren’t there when i needed you the most.”

he can hear the hurt in your voice and it pains his heart. he has caused so much damage.

“now that you’re here, i’m gonna tell you this.”

miguel’s attention is precise and solely on you, prepared for what you will say.

you look up straight in his eyes with pure sincerity. “if you want to be a part of this, you have to work for it. show me that you want this.”

miguel understands completely. prove his commitment to this family, to you and the baby. and goddamn he will, miguel will do everything he can to prove to you that he wants this.

“i will, i promise, mi amor.” his hands give yours a gentle squeeze, signifying his words.

you believe him.

this is the beginning of rebuilding your relationship. it will require lots of progress but you have faith miguel will prove himself and the love will soon be restored.

it’s a good starting point.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #military!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse

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minteagalaxea · 2 days ago

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blood . line (p. two) | jy.u

jey uso . part two

genre: smut (minors dni) . a modicum of plot content warnings: oral sex (male receiving) . unprotected sex (please use protection) . daddy kink . dirty talk . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . mild manhandling/strength kink . panty ripping (and keeping) word count: 2.52k inspiration: the concept of a glucose guardian/sucrose supplier . the accountants in the john wick series . the concept of friends with benefits . songs: do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys (slowed and reverb instrumental) (x) . love scene by baekhyun (slowed and reverb) (x) read also: "hot . line" (x) notes: thank you again for everyone who has been supporting the first part! i hope you guys are able to enjoy this part, too! special shoutout (again) to @lov3rla03 and @spiicii for endorsing my insanity <3

she was starting to look forward to her weekly…meetings with jey. she really was.

the routine was simple: every friday, after she finished her work, handling everything she had to for her boss, she would go home, settle and get comfortable, call the bloodline, greet quynh, and then get redirected to have a hot and heavy conversation with jey for about an hour or so. and it wasn’t a routine she was too keen on deviating from, given that her entire work life revolved around schedules and rituals to keep her from losing it whenever changes happened.

hence why she took it strangely when after her call with jey, he asked her to stay on the line, and transferred her back to the main line, where she heard quynh’s steady contralto.

“quynh…what’s going on?” from what she had gathered, any interaction with quynh beyond their initial greeting wasn’t generally good. lex, who gave her the business card, did tell her some horror stories: quynh holding you after your session could be anything, and if you got redirected to roman of all people without requesting it, then it generally meant one was fucked.

fortunately for her, quynh wasn’t giving her a warning, at least not in the traditional sense. “so, it’s been a few sessions, and i trust they’ve been going well?”

“yeah, it has, thank you for asking.” she wasn’t sure about why she sounded so formal, though quynh took it as it came as they explained.

“anyways, i was hoping if you recalled our initial conversation, about in-person interactions.”

her breath hitched at the realization, humming an assent so that quynh could finish the sentiment with long-suffering affection, “this is a bit unprecedented for me, but jey has requested an in-person session with you.”

speechless. that was what jey reduced her to. and apparently, that’s what he reduced quynh to. okay, so she didn’t know quynh that well, but the fact that this was unprecedented was enough. and so, naturally, she accepted.

“excellent, sweetie. since these work a little differently than your usual sessions, you send the session payment as a sort of down payment. i’m sure you know that there’s a bit of an upcharge.”

as she worked through the payment process with quynh, she found herself excited for the upcoming week as she notated the details—the same time as her usual appointment, only this time with a high-end restaurant and luxury suite to match.

it didn’t take her too long to settle on an outfit when the appointment approached—a warm gold dress that hugged her just right and had her undertones glowing, and a smokey eyeshadow and dark nude lip to match the mood of the evening. she felt powerful, pretty, and perfectly excited as she took the taxi to the restaurant downtown, letting the waitress lead her to her table.

and then, naturally, her jaw dropped when she saw the man in front of her.

because there was no way that whatever higher beings decided to bless him with a voice of crushed sin also decided to give him the same blessings to his entire existence like he was some fucking sex god—or well, he probably was, given his line of work. the wolfish, cheerful grin, the messy charm of his hair, and his voice. holy fuck, his voice sounded even more heavenly and hellish now that there wasn’t a phone line separating them.

she felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she shook his hand, admiring the casual outfit that did wonders to the tattoos she saw along his arms with the rolled-up sleeves and the texture of his beard when he went to kiss her hand, his lips warm against the cool sensation of her rings as they took their seats across from one another.

“so…thank you for taking me out,” she started, nervous as she took a sip of her water, “from what it sounded like, this normally doesn’t happen.”

jey responded, voice dripping with silk and poisoned honey, “i thought it would be nice to meet the woman who’s caught my attention these past few months.”

oh, how her skin flared in heat with that comment, internally loathing how she was progressively getting more delusional, falling for his words that may or may not be a reflection of reality. yet, she played along, “it is nice…getting to meet the man i’ve been calling ‘daddy’ for the past month and a half.”

if he noticed her nerves, he made no point to acknowledge it as he requested a bottle of champagne to celebrate after they placed their orders. upon the waiter’s departure, jey started questioning, “so, mamas, what do you do to afford phone calls and fancy dates with me?”

she laughed, his candor refreshing as she explained her career to him, working in her high-running career as a personal assistant to one of the most demanding bosses in the world (in her completely biased opinion). though, he did make an empathetic jest about her struggles as he quipped, “mamas, i work for and with my cousin. who’s also kinda my uncle.” she had never laughed harder as he jested, made her laugh over wine and deconstructed meals that she didn’t understand the premise of.

“waffle house might be more fun next time, mami. i think you’d like it if we went at the right time,” jey remarked casually, and she raised an eyebrow. it wasn’t inherently a bad suggestion, but perhaps, in her view, that it was even a suggestion in the first place.

“daddy, we haven’t even finished this evening and you’re already planning for another one?” she teased, voice incredulous as she tried to mask it with a sip of her champagne.

his response was as smooth as the pen she used to sign off on the receipt when the check came, “well, mamas, you make good company. and now that i’ve seen your beautiful face, i don’t wanna stop seeing it.”

oh fuck, if he kept saying shit like that, she wasn’t going to keep herself (or her body) in control. “daddy, you’re gonna make me delusional thinking you’re like this with just me,” she whispered as they both rose to their feet, his hand on her waist and heated like an iron brand as they strolled towards the fancy hotel a couple blocks away.

and just for him to nail the point home? jey had the actual audacity to whisper in the elevator on the way to the suite, “i am just like this with you, mamas. nobody else.”

her heart fluttered in her bones at the admission; by the time they entered the suite of the evening, she took the man by the shoulders, shoving him down on the bed to straddle his waist. perhaps with the same audacious nature that seems to waft off of the man like his delightful cologne, she inquired, “really? does that mean you’ve been coming every time we talk?”

jey didn’t have to even say anything to confirm her curiosities—the smolder, the firm grip to her derrière was confirmation in droves when he tangled his lips and tongue in a kiss so dizzying that it made her head swim in hues of gold and his scent. she could taste the champagne on his lips and the raspberry on his tongue from his cheesecake as her hips swiveled atop him.

licking off the string of saliva connected their parted lips, she moved down, kneeling on the ottoman at the end of the bed, unbuttoning his trousers and yanking his briefs down in one fell swoop. “shit,” she marvelled at his length, “this is so unfair.”

it was unfair, because this man had to be blessed with a dick as beautiful as he was, pretty and leaking and hard as steel at this point. she couldn’t stop herself from running her lips up and down his cock, whiny and needy as she started to suckle on the tip, wanting to make this excursion worth their while. and as she worked, tongue swirling around the tip and with gentle pressure around the shaft, she got to coax those sounds she became so attuned to over the phone in real life.

she was definitely correct in her thinking that he was going to sound so much more beautiful without technological obstruction. his groans sounded of concentrated lust and voracity, his hand holding her hair firm but not yanking as she attenuated to his cues: how his hips would buck when she ran her tongue along the underside just right, how his sounds grew more pronounced each instance she took him all the way down her willing maw, throat flexing at his girth.

it wasn’t difficult to get him to burst, even though he continuously warned her. however, she knew it was an empty threat of his, with how his lips wove words of absolute filth, about he was right. “knew you were gonna look so pretty on my dick, mami. so fucking good to daddy.”

the praise made her pussy so much wetter, propelling her to work harder to earn those sounds, his praise, because he was—quite literally—fulfilling her fantasies with him. and she nearly came on the spot when jey did, spilling his seed into her mouth with a fervent, heady grunt as he kept her nose brushing his navel, “take it all, mamas. make daddy proud.” she swallowed with pleading eyes, melting into his deep and warm gaze as she milked him for everything he had; subsequently, she let him swallow all of her sounds when he tugged her off of his shaft and slammed his lips onto hers when he deposited her back on his lap.

“shit, mamas, you’re so good to me, made me cum so hard,” he crooned against her swollen lips, one raking through her hair and cradling her close and the other already going down to hike up her dress and fucking yank her drenched panties off her frame. her gasp echoed in his ears, especially when he winked at her to shove them in his pocket before unzipping her dress, letting it pool at her hips before proper extrication. she could only gasp again when he lifted her up so effortlessly and deposited her on her back while he made haste to get all his clothes off, with the additional knowledge that her soaked panties now have a home in his pocket for perpetuity.

in the frantic, fervent pace of their fucking, jey offered a moment of respite, one desperately needed for them both to try and prolong their fun as he pressed his already-hardening length against her slick petals. she supposed there was a massive benefit of sleeping with a man with nearly no refractory period and all energy. “jey, daddy, you gotta fuck me, please,” her voice breathed into his mouth as he slicked himself with her wetness, “i’m clean, just put your dick in.” “i know, mamas—fuck, you’re so wet for me. all that from sucking my dick?” he teased, starting to nudge her opening with a finger, just to stretch her just so she could take him, though with how wet she was, she knew this would be easy.

her voice fell into gentle whines when he slipped in another finger, scissoring her walls, “it’s fine, i’m ready, i’ve been ready since forever.” and, she supposed, begging did give her everything, because when jey retracted his fingers from her heat, he brought them to his lips and licked her arousal off like it was the finest dessert on the planet—and to him, it was.

jey made that message clear as he slid that rock hard cock inside, sheathing himself into her receptive walls as he mused with no shortage of want, “shit, mamas, knew you were gonna look so pretty wrapped around my dick.” wrapped around him she did, hooking a leg over his shoulder as his cadence started deliberate, uncharacteristically slow in the grand scheme of how she’s always known him and his dirty talk.

“fuck, you’re in so deep,” she breathed, back arching into the hand he splayed there and the mouth he had on the junction of her neck to imprint marks and bruises onto for posterity. her hands latched into his hair, yanking and mussing up those soft strands with each powerful thrust of his, gasping with the perfect angle, the perfect amount of pressure from his mouth on her neck, the swipe of his tongue on her breasts when he ventured lower.

her cunt clenched around him with each of his strokes, her moans escalated into a wanton melody of his name, “daddy”, and begging in some combination, breathed against his lips when he swallowed her noises when he kissed her like he needed oxygen. it occurred whenever he ventured lower to deprive himself of said oxygen by burying himself in her chest and suckling and swirling that skilled tongue over her nipples until they prickled with sensitivity and perked with surrender.

“daddy, i’m so close,” she groaned hungrily, the recipient of his increasingly fervent thrusts and their sounds matching in passionate harmony as jey’s growls grew more guttural, becoming a symphony of carnal sex as he ramped up the filth in his words, “come inside.”

her walls clasped around him like a vice when he spewed out. “come for me, babygirl. you’re so fucking hot like this, gonna fill you up just right, mamas.” he punctuated each word with a stroke that felt like it was getting deeper and deeper inside of her, “gonna look so pretty gushing out my cream. so fucking tight ‘round me, gonna cum so hard for me, aren’t you?”

jey was right, as he generally had been throughout the night, when he rubbed her neglected clit and got her to fucking scream in what was supposed to be a respectable hotel room, staking his claim about how damn well he was making her feel as she came, lips parted and body arched into a tapestry of luxury and avarice as her pussy clamped around his cock without any opportunity for movement. that, in turn, triggered his own release, spilling inside with that long groan she had memorized from all their weeks of phone sex. yet, hearing it in person, with no barrier, just did something to her, had her walls squeezing around him like no tomorrow, prolonging their highs as long as possible, shattering them into new precipices of pleasure.

as she panted for air when his hips stilled and her eyes met his with utmost fondness as he pulled out, letting his essence trickle out of her core, she kissed jey again because she could. jey helped clean her with a damp towel, sparing no shortage of adoration in the form of kisses and sweet nothings of “mamas”, “mami”, and “babygirl” that left her floating on golden clouds of warmth and sugar. while she rested into his chest, their whirlwind excursion wearing them out in the best of ways before an undoubted next round, she allowed herself to savor how all those weeks of the phone crystallized into a night of explosive bliss

and another. and another.

taglist ⇢ @yana3sworld . @roseydoesypoesy . @fearlesschimera . @theusotwinzcom

#jey uso #main event jey uso #wwe #the bloodline #jey uso x reader #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #wwe fic #wwe x reader #og bloodline #wwe fnafiction #wwe imagine

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71kedi-yip · 3 days ago

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I was guilty of this when I was 12 (Zoe and Charles). Now, I think you are right but I realized I have thoughts on that and need to get them out, so:

I think at 12 I not only didn't understand death and how it affects people fully, but also was still trying to deal with these character deaths myself. And naming your kid after someone dead who is dear to you to honour them is a common thing in life, so...

And probably since more then one fic used the same names, they ended up becoming commonly accepted names that if someone(probably also around 12) was writing a fic and didn't know what to name the kids, they used the default names, further reenforcing them.

Also these specific names I feel kinda dates them? I don't know how to explain it but I caught up to the books at House of Hades(had to wait like a month, went feral) and you get reminded of Zoe in House of Hades and it is where Percy and Annabeth dreams of a future right? Then came a year of waiting for BoO, where I tried to fill the void of the books with fic writing (I learned the existance of fanfic via someone posting their fic like "leaked episode from BoO" btw). And like, they wanted a family, I like family fics, let me go do it! And I think I wasn't alone? I think a good chunk of people thought about and wrote about Percabeth having kids around that point(I was not in the english speaking fandom at the time so can't speak for certainty).

What am I gonna name the kids? Well, I just remembered Zoe, hmm I need a boys name, (I think I was also too young to really understand Luke at the time. Now, if I was naming percabeth kids after dead friends, I would go with Luke. At the time Luke still felt like a traitor) hmm dead male friend... Charles?(if this was happening now I think Jason would be on this list, right? Having said that, Jason is not dead, nope, he decided to finally live for himself, left the demigod scene and now lives in florida.)

Now, a full decade and a bit later(holy) I understand you are right. And if I was able to recognize it, this fact would have been obvious from the very first book where it is explained that Sally picked the name Percy because it was the one hero that had a good ending. Sally saw Percy's name as a way to wish a life for him and I think Percy and Annabeth would follow the same idea, so they wouldn't name their kids after dead friends.

Having said that, Zoe and Charles were one of my first characters, I adore them and I love them and I am ok with their names being kinda wrong. And even if I know their names are wrong I don't want to change them because for a good decade I did think of them as Zoe and Charles and I am attached to them.

So... I think that's why???

Tldr:I plead the I was 12.

Does anyone else hate the headcannon that Percabeth name their children after friends who have died (Charles, Silena, Zoe, etc) because I do. I feel like it would be a painful reminder that they don’t want to think about when they see their kids, and they wouldn’t want their children to be affected by it. But idk, that’s just me

#pjo #percabeth

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manlvrr · 3 days ago

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I hate the CaitVi Sex scene

Everytime I see someone thirsting after the scene and gushing about how it's so hot, I feel so disgusted and ticked cause of how the scene came about and where it's located.

Before we get onto my rant about the scene itself, I want to mention the CaitVi scene that happened before that.

"She saved your life!"

"If you will just calm down for on-"

If you will just calm down for once? Hypocrite. Caitlyn's allowed to be pissy, allowed to call Zaunites animals (oh, "except" Vi though) and then fight like an animal by biting Sevika—

Sidenote:

That's also another scene I don't find hot at all. Any time I see it, I can't focus on how attractive Sevika is when she's smug (even though she totes is). All I can focus on is how Caitlyn bit Sevika. I don't remember who pointed it out, if it was on Tumblr or TikTok which I have promptly deleted since the ban, but someone pointed out that Caitlyn is fighting dirty—like a Zaunite. Caitlyn was backed into a corner, so she fought like an animal.

Fuck her.

I guess now she can somewhat understand why Zaunites fight the way they do. When you're backed into a corner, feeling helpless, feeling desperate, you fight like it and she did the same exact same thing she judged them for.

Bastard.

Lol can you tell I'm feeling bitter over her character?

Back to OG rant

—biting Sevika, gas the undercity and harshly interrogate someone who was a victim of Jinx's shenanigans, hit Vi for trying to calm her down from her grief driven rage, but oh, no Vi must calm down even though she's barely angry compared to when Caitlyn's angry. Not to mention that Caitlyn throws a tantrum herself and throws the tiny figure in her hand to the ground.

"—since you don't trust her enough not to shove her in a box."

Can we please take note of the tremble in Vi's voice when she says that? 'Oh, Jinx brought back her trauma from being in Stillwater!1!2!1' First of all, shut up. Second of all, yeah. . . So did Caitlyn?? Caitlyn may not have known what to do with Jinx, but the option for her to let Jinx go to prison was there and Vi hated it.

"Cait, she's changed."

"We can't erase our mistakes. None of us."

All the while not doing any time of her own for the crimes she committed—and no, I'm not talking about her gassing the undercity. What she did as a dictator, letting Noxians take over, and hardly doing anything afterwards even though she caused so much pain and misery to both Piltovians and Zaunites goes unpunished. Her losing an eye is nothing compared to the fear many people will feel while living under a dictatorship.

Get the guillotine!!

"Who decides who gets a second chance?"

Exactly. Caitlyn did no better than Jinx. She knows it too. It tears her up inside—as it should!!! Besides, did she think Jinx wasn't going to eventually get out of Stillwater? Or was one of her options to let Jinx rot there until she died? Yeah, I'm sure your girlfriend would love that.

Now, let's get to the scene itself!

But first let me talk about what happened right before that—

Vi tries to get Jinx on her side, Jinx rejects her, and Vi watches her sister leave while being told by her that Vi "deserves to be happy" and not to "worry about her anymore".

Yikes.

People say that what happened next with Caitlyn was Vi "finally being selfish", but it just feels wrong to me. Don't get me wrong, Vi deserves to enjoy herself after everything that's been done to her; however, you aren't going to have normal, healthy, healing sex right after seeing a loved one leave you for good.

Trust me lol I've had enough grieving/traumatic experience to know that you can feel upset for hours and won't immediately be able to get into a happy mindset even if you find something to entertain yourself with. You can have people try to cheer you up and you feel a bit better, but you still feel that lingering horrible feeling inside that will eat at you for who knows how long. You could give me Steb wearing the cutest little red panties I have ever seen in my life and I'd still be sad while trying to eat him out. You need to give me that like a day or so AFTER my little breakdown cause I won't enjoy it right after crying about losing my sis.

Sidenote:

Someone please remind me to draw that.

It would take at least an hour for Vi to get back to normal with the way she was reacting. At least. Vi was in that cell for who knows how long, but she was still upset and rather vulnerable when Caitlyn found her. No doubt she needed more time to get herself together.

Okay, now, let's get to the scene itself!!!

Bro, don't fuck me while I'm crying unless I'm crying cause I'm laughing too hard or because of sexy overstimulation. Fuck me? Nah, fuck you.

"I choose wrong every time—and because of it. . . I've lost everyone."

"Did you really think I needed all the guards at the HexGates?"

SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT AWWWWWUUUPPPPPPP—anyway,

Your girl is clearly upset, grieving her lost relationship with her sister (and likely other loved ones shes lost like Vander/Warwick), feeling guilty, and clearly not in any type of good mood yet your first reaction is to smirk???? You think this is funny?? Now is not the time to tease, Ms. Dumbass.

Vi needs compassion and reassurance not. . . Whatever that was. Yes, showing that you knew all along and didn't do anything to stop her shows that you do care for her, but it also isn't what she needs. Caitlyn did not reassure her that Vi wasn't going to lose her so easily.

Mainly because if she did, that'd be a lie, but that's neither here nor there.

"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable."

Girl, you are not sorry. Quit lying. I can smell the smoke coming off your pants, but I'm not getting the fire extinguisher.

Again, this isn't what Vi needs. Any therapist would be able to tell you that you should seek healthier coping mechanisms other than sex. Does cuddling not exist? Does making out and then putting a stop to it because you realize your girl is not in the right state of mind for this exist??? Seeking sex after feeling so vulnerable and horrible about yourself is in no way, shape, or form okay. Shit isn't cute.

Caitlyn, you are more of an animal than you realize.

"Listen! While you were gone, I. . . Saw someone."

All of a sudden you realize that you should stop things because you feel guilty, but that guilt isn't over letting your girl go down on you after being upset and grieving, but about. . . Having another girl while she was gone???? Girl, seriously, your priorities are wack.

She does hesitate for a moment once she sees VI's injury (I can't remember where the injury came from. I stg if it came from Caitlyn or whatever Caitlyn ordered her to do. . .) yet she continues on. There are multiple reasons why they shouldn't do it right then and there, but Caitlyn is so horny she lets Vi pleasure her.

The reasons:

1. Vi is not in the right place of mind, she just lost her sister. Please let her grieve.

2. That is a jail cell. After what happened to her, their first time should be somewhere comfortable. Vi deserves comfort. She deserves to be spoiled. You're in Piltover, Caitlyn has a mansion with a really good bed, but your first fuck is in a dirty jail cell??

3. That is a jail cell that contained her sister. Vi can't reclaim shit about having sex in a jail cell if it's a cell that contained her sister. If there was better writing, she'd feel guilty over having sex in the cell she lost her sister. Her guilt isn't going to immediately go away because of one fuck. That's not how it works. Wish it was, but it's not.

Can I also note that Vi is the one pleasuring Caitlyn and not the other way around? Maybe Vi prefers to eat out rather than be eaten, but I think it just speaks more to her always servicing others rather than servicing herself or being serviced. If the sex scene was gonna happen, at least show Vi being completely selfish and enjoying herself by showing Cait be the one to kiss her down to her coochie. Maybe she's a stone top, but she gives off switch vibes to me.

Fuck you, Cait. Always wanting things to benefit you.

(If it was me, I'd eat Vi out, but, again, that's neither here nor there. . . She's not even in my top favs. I just want the best for her cause I hate Caitlyn lol.)

"I'm feeling fantastic."

FUCK YOUUUU

Okay *drops mic* , rant over

#sesbian lex #anti caitvi #anti caitlyn kiramman #orignally didnt care for Vi much but I want better for her #sorry for the messy text but I wanted to try and not lose people's attention by making it one bit paragraph #also #fun fact about me but i prefer big text over anything else #im so blind man and my prescription is getting worse cause i have no idea how to take the eye tests #my docs were so concerned and the only reason my results changed so drastically is cause i dont know how to take eye exams #rant post #emotionally loaded language #love that #the thinker #just spitting words but you get my drift right?#lol this is a mess but idc #dedicated to all the CaitVi stuff i have to get off my tumblr dash or whatever #im a hater #arcane #arcane rant

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