#in a way though i Like that my Mind is always Busy

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Hola otra vez! For anyone not familiar with my annoying rambly feedback, ahead there be

This is the end of the first paragraph of the story and it's just so fcking ... like it works SO well for me, it makes me wanna spike a football

it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.

logan had no reason to keep count. until he saw you.

Well, if there's any indication a man is smitten, I'd say it's when he decides to keep counting after 200 years on Earth cuz of YOU *ded*

the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.

It's super interesting to think about Logan in relation to time and age. We just went from him deciding he's got a reason to keep counting the years to him being so tired that he doesn't want to get into petty fights. And as someone who grew up with Logan on the XMen cartoon lol, I know Logan to BE petty. So whilst we can't always think of Logan in terms of age, cuz looking at his appearance can make us forget, to hear that he's so TIRED that he doesn't even wanna squabble up on occasion? Well, that's impactful. The author makes it hit home in this other way and I really like it.

And here's another example of the author getting across to us where Logan is at when we meet him in life:

you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls.

Straight up now we have the word tired, but also old. And not in relation to himself, but what he's got eyes on. It's such a clever thing the author has done here, and I really am appreciative of it.

logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.

Sad face. This is very in line with the Logan I think most of us know (and adore). Gotta take all the blame, gotta punish yourself, gotta try to protect others from you by denying yourself connections. Wanna hug him.

he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.

Also very on brand for Logan. Sees a need, fills the need, but doesn't want credit for it. He's also seeing someone he believes is worthy (and perhaps not in a way he feels he could ever be?) of more so he tries to be the provider.

it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . .

And again, we are seeing how smitten he is because the man who has been painted as weary and bored suddenly has questions and wonderings again. That is, in the context of Logan's long a$$ existence, quite magical. But that magic is immediately followed by

though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless. he is an animal, after all.

and it's like

relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it. fuck.

"Relying on others was a weakness" is just hella relatable to me, so I key in on that. And then that ire being followed by showing vulnerability by thinking of her as another person he'd lose; Logan's heart has always been huge and you just know he remembers the faces and details of each person he has had to lose and she has that status already. Logan trying to lie to himself with the "not worth it" talk only to have to curse himself cuz he KNOW he's lying is also peak Logan behavior, and once again on a personal level, hiiiiiiiiiiiiiighly relatable lol. I'm always lying to myself about my own feelings.

you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy.

"Lonely and desperate" self descriptions and Logan referring to himself as "stupid." I'm sure we all wanna shake this old man, right? LOL because when he let's himself think about the truth:

he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything. he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.

It's connection, and it's gnawing at him. Loneliness is a helluva thing, and I think a lot of us know this. But this author is shining in the way she is describing it for us, outside of the usual age/years gone by methods. Tired, lonely, and now ravenous. And while we are in the space of a more spiritual hunger, here, it so easily slides right back to physical as well because he's thinking about a woman and wonders

surely one bite couldn't hurt?

Me literally screaming into my pumpkin pillow cuz I'm like NO IT COULDN'T LOGAN, GO GET HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR cuz I know what's gonna follow is gonna be liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.

The self loathing and denial is top tier Logan. He will inconvenience and punish himself just as long as it's in line with denying himself cuz he just "doesn't deserve it." Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Logan then proceeds to go drain the snake before he beings his newest self inflicted penance, but she comes in to clean the bathrooms thinking they were empty.

Gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl lol

your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again. but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.

HOW WAS SHE LOOKING AT YOU, LOGAN?!?! It's funny how if it was almost any other man, I'd snort and be like, sure buddy. But it's Logan so I have ZERO issue believing whatever he saw in her eyes let her know she DOES indeed know him and want ... well, something.

you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.

How interesting to see the contrast of her view of Logan because while he's always looking at her and sworn that he never caught her looking his way, she's letting us know she has definitely looked his way enough to notice he was a man in hiding. And she actually acted respectfully to respect that and not ogle him, which bummed Logan out lol.

the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.

Oof, she's intuitive! So she SEES what he needs and seems to be quite willing to, ahem, deliver for him but WILL HE LET HER is the big question.

logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.

you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome. no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.

I do so love the fact that she's intuitive, curious and sees beyond the big burly handsome cover. He never speaks but look at his eyes and boy, are there a thousand stories waiting to be told. And it's the SAME WAY in the present with her. Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike, it's about to go off.

oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.

Again, I love that this goes beyond physical with her and that she's genuinely intrigued by him and by what probably most others don't see in Logan.

"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me." logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?" "yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious." he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.

No because how is he the King of Self Denial but somehow automatically is giving Dom the first time he approaches a woman he means to get to know? Not even embarrassing at being caught at his blatant perusal of her. SIR.

logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up.

When I tell you this BROKE me. King of Self Inflicted Penance. I stg. And it's quite the conundrum to be going through an emotional gut punch when it's immediately followed up with

he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.

and we know it is OFF TO THE RACES!!!

"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?" you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.

OH SH!T, WE HAVE HAN AND LEIA BANTER! They are my OTP so I'm always gonna call a combative in love couple that, but this dynamic is MY JAM and I love that what we seem to have here is a clearly dominant male with a bratty female. I am in Heaven lol

logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you.

WE DO TOO, LOGAN!

his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.

Always a trip when I am personally attacked by a fic lmaoooooooooo

he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.

"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet."

I want to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie at the giving of instructions and reminder that, HEY WE ARE IN PUBLIC but we are absolutely NOT stopping.

"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."

Excellent dirty taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalk

he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."

And he praises? *dies again*

"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it. you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar.

"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"

I once again must mention top tier dirty talk!

and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has.

Once again, Logan's vulnerability is illustrated here because it's very human and natural to WANT TO BE WANTED so that it's exciting for him makes all the sense.

he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it.

*shakes him* He's still so Logan. Trying to convince himself again he is just not worthy. But I also do this to myself which is no doubt why I key on it, mention it, react to it. That just means the author is striking a chord with me and isn't that what we want? To feel resonance and know we are not alone in our experiences?

because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.

It's a jarring feeling to be really into some hot smut and then have there be an intermission of this caliber. Cuz again, we are seeing into Logan's heart and his internal self who just screams and screams about not being worthy. And it's so painful and wretched for us as an audience cuz we KNOW it's not true and we just wish HE WOULD SEE IT.

you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh?

Even in her blissful state, she is noticing what he likes and trying to provide that for him and I love her for considering him and being thoughtful with him. HE doesn't think he deserves it, but we readers know that he absolutely does so it's sweetness in this midst of lust and shows us that she cares beyond whatever is happening now in this bathroom.

Y'all NEED to go read this cuz the smut is rough but because of the well established connection the author built between these two, it's very intimate despite the circumstances which don't necessarily lend themselves to anything other than a "quickie." Because of what's going on between these two and how well laid out that is for us, we know that the reason this is so rough and intimate is BECAUSE it's not meant for just here and now. But will Logan allow anything more?

standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.

And again, I love her for her thoughtfulness. She's being soft and tender with him. I'm not sure if it's a conscious effort to keep him from screwing things up (by trying to now brush her off) or if it's just naturally who she is and giving into her instinct to want to be gentle with him and keep him close. Either way, I love love love this moment.

". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.

Adore her for infusing humor into the situation and wanting to bring light back into his eyes. Whoever is going to be with Logan needs to have a sense of humor and give him as good as he gives.

the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.

Is Logan ACTUALLY going to give this thing a chance, and more importantly, HIMSELF a chance?!?!

I hate to quote too much in a story, especially an ending becuase I WANT PEOPLE TO GO READ FOR THEMSELVES but I need @silverskyeline to know that the last 3 paragraphs of this piece are SO FCKING GOOD.

The breakthrough and revelation he has, the tentative willingness to let himself release a burden and not self flagellate? OMGGGGGGGGGGG. Literally all the applause and bravo on this amazing piece. I really really fcking enjoyed it and am so grateful to you for creating and sharing.

It's really a wonderful character analysis or look at who Logan is, the person he think he has to be, with some hot smut that actually isn't a pause in the narrative but continues the throughline of exploring who he is and what he thinks he deserves and how he's giving himself permission to be a man again. I just ... I love this so so much. Thank you again.

'hunger' 18+

worst!wolverine x f!reader (3.9k words) summary: logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. tags: for the 'longing' prompt for logan promptober, set in the bar from the movie, kind of angsty, filthy, pent up logan, alcohol consumption, doggy style, creampie, biting, light choking, pinning wrists, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex, implied age gap, sweet ending.

his usual haunts offer comfort, safe nests tucked away down isolated roads, usually requiring quite the drive to find - it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.

time spent staring into the grain of the old wood on the bar wondering how the fuck he ended up here. he'd stopped keeping count a long time ago, how long he'd been around, been alive. things get kind of hazy after two hundred years. logan had no reason to keep count.

until he saw you.

the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.

he's sat at the bar when the bartender clocks off, switching with someone new, someone he'd never seen before. you walk in and his eyes immediately scan your face, your build, your outfit. it's a habit of his, one he hoped he'd grow out of - but logan has learned that he'll never stop assessing for new threats. it's just in his dna.

but what he finds isn't a threat.

you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls. he drags his eyes back down to his glass like he's forcing himself to look down the barrel of a gun rather than looking at you, before settling on you once more.

logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.

. . . but what harm can looking do?

a few weeks pass, logan notices you're in every few nights from now on, must have been put on the regular rota. he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.

you've never noticed him, or at least, he's never caught you looking in his direction. but he finds himself craving it, willing your eyes to meet his even for a second. the extent of your interactions have been sliding a glass or a bottle in his direction before continuing with your other duties.

it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . . though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless.

he is an animal, after all.

he wonders if he should switch bars just to distance himself. he couldn't let himself become comfortable with the idea of you. relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it.

fuck.

logan curses himself under his breath for even having this internal debate. you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy. he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything.

he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.

surely one bite couldn't hurt?

no, he finds himself shaking his head as he stands from the bar. he'd take a leak, and leave early. it'd only been a month since he first saw you, he could get over this. switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.

the bathroom door swings open and he walks inside, situating himself at one of the urinals. a few moments later, the door swings open again, logan doesn't bother to look over.

"oh, thought these were empty, sorry."

his head turns quickly. it's you, mop in hand. there's an uncomfortable silence that follows.

speak, fucking speak. "it's fine."

you pause, then nod a little and begin mopping the floor.

his eyes are back on the urinal, swallowing hard. was this really going to be your first conversation? with his eyes glaring into old porcelain, dick in his hand? he tries not to picture you stealing glances at him, but he can't help it. is that what he wants?

maybe.

finishing up, he quickly makes his way over to the sinks, pushing his hands under the cool water and rubbing with soap. his eyes flit up to the mirror. and he catches you.

your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again.

but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.

"all done," you say with a sigh after a few moments, standing straight and gripping the mop but making no effort to leave just yet.

logan eyes you in the mirror, watches how your eyes dance across the room before inevitably landing on him again. he turns to face you, noting the distance between you both in the room.

you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.

the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.

you rest your mop against the wall, "you're in here often." you state, it's not a question.

"guess i'm a regular," he replies curtly.

swallowing hard, you continue, "i noticed. i always have to restock the whisky when you come by."

logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.

"i like a drink." he says with a subtle shrug, just a step away now, eyes never leaving yours.

a small smile tugs at your lips, "i know."

you're not sure what you're really doing. you're supposed to be on shift, designated five minutes to clean the bathrooms. five minutes you'd much rather spend doing someone something else.

you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome.

no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.

oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.

you're not sure when or how it happened, but he's right in front of you now, his body almost touching yours. you look up at him with a feigned innocent look.

"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me."

logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?"

"yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious."

he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.

your hands snake down, finding his belt buckle and brazingly begin to unbuckle it. he watches you, eyes fixated on the way your fingers move. he swears he's about to start drooling. but then you move, hands winding up to the buttons on his shirt. you splay your hands across the fabric, eyes widening when you feel what's underneath.

"are you. . . is that-"

logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up. he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.

he moans, relishing the taste of you, the taste he's thought about for so fucking long. he brings your hands up, pinning them above your head, shifting his grip so one hand easily pins your wrists, leaving his other hand free.

his free hand plants firmly across your upper chest, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your collarbone as he explores your mouth with his tongue. you're lost in the sensation, knees going weak as you allow the older man to have his way with you. he needs this, you know it.

"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?"

you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.

logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you. his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.

the kiss grows in intensity, you wonder how long it's been since he's kissed someone. he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.

his hand on your neck gives a gentle squeeze before running down your torso, palming at your jeans suddenly. you try to whimper in pleasure, but he's silencing you with his lips again.

"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet." logan can feel the material of your jeans begin to damp and he resists the urge to growl, feeling the way the fabric beneath gives way.

you nod, whispering small affirmatives as he touches you through the material. "just give me more," you whine.

and that spurs him on. in a flash he's pushing you into the stall, stealing a few more kisses where he can before he turns you, pushing your back against his chest. his lips find your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the skin he finds there.

you're like putty in his hands, melting back against him as his hand returns to your crotch, rough hands massaging circles against your clothed core. you resist a moan, exhaling shakily instead as you let him use you.

"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."

you nod quickly as you feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin.

"yeah, thought so," he nibbles on your earlobe, breathing deeply through his nose as he tries to steady himself, preserve the moment. but how can he when you feel this good beneath his fingers, taste this good on his tongue? "tell me you want it."

"want you to fuck me," you whimper almost immediately, suddenly feeling so very needy. there's a hot ache growing between your legs, one you're desperate for him to fill.

logan laughs, "you can do better than that, honey, know you can."

"please," your voice cracks and you swallow back moans as you squirm beneath his touch, "please fuck me-" it becomes apparent to you at that moment that you don't even know his name. your cheeks flush at the thought of letting this stranger, this older man fuck you in the bar bathroom, but actually, you kind of like it that way.

he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."

with that, he pushes you forward, forcing your hands onto the tank of the toilet to support yourself as he bends you over. his hands find your waist, his hips connecting with yours and slowly grinding his very apparent, large bulge against you.

you let out a whimper, arching your back a little at the sudden contact.

"feel that?" he mumbles, guiding your hips to grind back against him, "feel what you do to me?"

a gasp, "fuck, you're big." you can already tell, the way his bulge is pressing against you, demanding to be felt. you swear you can almost feel it throb through the material.

"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it.

pulling back slightly, he roughly pulls your jeans down, practically manhandling you, your underwear disappearing with it. he grabs handfuls of your ass before kneading the skin. "look at that, pretty little ass, all for me."

you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar. "f-fuck!" you whine, feeling the sharp sting, knowing there's a bright red imprint in the shape of his large palm on your ass.

there's some jingling, the sound of his belt being moved out of the way, a zipper. you prepare yourself, or at least you try to, but his cock is already slapping against your backside before you have time to steady your hazy mind.

"you gonna take all of me?" he asks, biting his lip as his aching length slaps against your skin, "think you can?"

you nod quickly, looking over your shoulder at him, "mhm!"

"if you say so. . ." he smirks and positions himself, one hand on your hip and one aiming his cock at your tight little hole.

then, all at once he's sinking in. you gasp, he gasps. and fuck, he is big. you feel that sweet stretch, his cock throbbing against your tight walls as it slowly glides inside. you're whining as it slowly fills you, eyes rolling back at the sensation. but he pulls out a little, only to push back in again.

he's working you up just right, mesmerised by the way you take his cock. his eyes are fixed on your tight hole begging him to enter, loving the slick sound as it pushes inside.

"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"

despite the way your cheeks flush bright red, you can't deny it. you've thought about it more than once, fantasised about it in bed, hoping that one day that stranger from the bar would fuck you so good you forget your own name.

you don't need to reply either, because he knows. he knows from the way your wet hole flutters around him, and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has. he begins to pump into you at a leisurely pace, firm hands on your hips.

"holy fuck, so fuckin' tight," logan grumbles, his deep slow strokes hitting you deep as he bottoms out inside of you.

you try to turn your head, to look up at him, but he grasps the back of your hair, pushing your head down. "nu-uh, keep that head down."

he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it. he'll take you, just like this, with your head down and your ass up and his cock buried deep inside you.

because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.

you feel his thrusts grow rougher, your legs slipping apart as you attempt to hold yourself up, hands planted firmly on the tank of the toilet. you're squeaking softly with each pump, feeling him use you to release his pent-up frustrations. and it felt so fucking good.

with his firm grip on your hair tightening by the second and his other large hand digging into your hip, you begin to bounce back against his motions, sending him even deeper. you both moan in sync with the feeling and you pant softly, cheeks flushing further at the soft 'plap plap plap' of his hips connecting with you, the sound reverberating around the small cubicle.

"that feels so fucking good," you sing, closing your eyes. logan gives a particularly hard thrust, speed picking up. you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh? "keep fuckin' me, just like that, so good. . ."

he groans, wrapping your hair around his fist as he relentlessly pounds into you. harder and harder, deeper and deeper, you're sure you'll have bruises littered over your body before the day is through.

"harder!" you cry, feeling your legs tremble. you're not gonna last long like this, and by the way his cock is twitching inside of you, he isn't either. "i'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum!"

another groan slips from his lips, gritting his teeth as he uses you, watching you take his throbbing cock beneath him. "look so pretty like this, bent over, takin' what i fuckin- shit. . . takin' what i give you."

your body grows hotter, sweat forming on your forehead, each impact pushing you forward roughly. you're really not gonna last long.

he begins to hunch over, his chest flush with your back as he huffs against your neck, fucking you like a rabid animal. you're squealing now, the pleasure swirling in your lower stomach, threatening to send you crashing into bliss. at this point, you don't fucking care if someone walks in and finds you like this, sees his feet planted behind yours underneath the stall. in fact, the thought of the risk sends a bolt straight to your gut.

"yes yes yes," you mutter, feeling your orgasm approaching steadily. you swear you can feel him in your guts. you begin to flutter around him, begging for release, knowing it's going to completely destroy you.

logan can't even form words, just grunts slipping from his lips against the side of your neck. and then he feels it, his cock twitches, his mind reeling with the imminent release. he needs this, oh he fucking needs this.

he bites down on your neck, teeth sinking in slightly as he feels himself release deep inside you, his cum spilling out in strong waves. you feel your knees buckle, but a strong hand planted on your tummy helps keep you upright as he fucks his release deeper into you.

the animalistic nature of his thrusts combined with the sensation of his hot cum painting your insides sends you flying over the edge, your orgasm milking him as you clamp around his aching cock. he slams his hand against the stall wall with a loud metallic bang, splaying his fingers across the metal as if to ground himself as his thrusts falter.

his tongue lazily licks the indents of his bite mark against your neck, groans easing their way from the back of his throat. you can hardly catch your breath, legs still shaking from such an intense release. it's hard to think straight with his dick still buried deep inside, feeling it twitch with every aftershock.

you both stay like that for a solid minute, panting, coming down together. he's planting soft kisses along your neck as your breath slowly comes back to you.

he pulls out, stepping back as he stuffs himself into his jeans. you collapse onto the toilet seat, shakily pulling your jeans and underwear back up as you look up at him. it's clear he's looking to leave, a distant look in his eye, maybe a little shame creeping into his features.

standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.

you pull back, buttoning your own jeans as you continue to look up at him. ". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.

and there it is, a small smirk on his lips as he glances away. "maybe."

the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, tilting your head.

he blinks, suddenly remembering time exists outside this small space seemingly crafted just for the two of you. "yeah," he says, quietly.

"good," you pat his chest before moving past him, leaving the stall. you stand, looking back at him. a beat, "or, you can meet me after my shift ends?"

his eyes widen, taken aback. fuck, had he forgotten how to do this? his eyes flit to the side, before making up his mind. he gives a firm nod.

you smile before leaving him in the bathroom, returning to the bar through the door.

logan stands there for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair. he smooths down his shirt, feeling the suit beneath, a stark reminder always of his past.

but maybe he could begin to take a few steps forward. maybe he deserves more than to suffer forever, forced to keep everyone at arm's length. maybe he could allow himself this small happiness, a date, or whatever this was.

maybe it was time to satisfy his hunger, his loneliness, for good.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Wrote this at midnight. Not even melatonin could contain the horny curse that Mok Tok put on me. Bon appetit~

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, alpha borisin!reader, sub/bottom/omega!Mok Tok, mind break, breeding, kidnapping (?), marking

Mok Tok is too feisty for his own good. He's the kind of guy who's impulsive and needs to follow someone, or something, far, far stronger than he is.

He needs a big, strong alpha to keep him in line. Needs you to show him where he truly belongs, even if he can't see it at first.

It takes a long time, and an absurd amount of patience, to break him. Mok Tok will yell, scream, howl, snarl, and try to bite you every step of the way — which is why he ends up chained in your basement, muzzled and isolated from everything. Your touch as gentle as can be, even as the omega pulls at his restraints and curses you out again.

Eventually, he's worn down. Your whispers in his sensitive, fuzzy ears — combined with miniscule suggestive touches that gradually made him desire you — eventually gave you the perfect mate.

Now, Mok Tok is your pliant omega whore, clingy and constantly craving his master's touch. He shivers when you enter the nest that he built in his little room. Piles of blankets and your used clothing, most of which ends up stained from Mok Tok's incessant humping when you're away.

You can see his thighs clamp together, feebly attempting to stop another wave of need from dripping out of his stiff cock, but it's too little, too late… you only need to brush your fingertips down his arm, and Mok Tok is whimpering like a sad puppy. Rolling over and going belly up for you — his alpha.

No matter how often you fuck him, Mok Tok always ends up tight again, gripping your dick like his insides are trying to bear hug you… but, hey, you're not about to complain about that. It only makes breeding his borussy that much more fun~

Speaking of breeding; you created an addiction. Mok Tok is desperate for your hot, alpha cum, whining so loudly for you to breed his omega pussy and let him have your pups. He'll do anything! Please, please, please cum in him — don't pull your cock out until there's so much cum in his hole that he can barely move! 🥺

While you're busy jackhammering his wet, creamy hole for the nth time, Mok Tok will shed tears of pure happiness, howling at the heavens when you fill him AGAIN, and pulling your body closer until he can barely breathe.

This little wolf is also a bit addicted to your marks. Every tiny bite or scratch is viewed as a trophy in his dumbed out, horny mess of a brain. Borisin typically view scars in a positive light, and Mok Tok is no exception. Even after you turned his brain to mush and programmed him to be your bitch, that fact didn't change.

The hickeys you cover his neck with? Treasures, all of them.

The long scratches running down his arms, sides, and back? Treasures, even though those do hurt a little…

The bite marks on Mok Tok's thighs, ankles, hands, and shoulders? Priceless treasures, every last one of 'em.

—

The moral of the story is: Mok Tok is my little wife, and I need to keep him forever~ 🩶

[woniedarlin]

He listens while you yap

pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope

caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)

author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

HEESEUNG

You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.

He was just staring at you the entire time.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.

“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”

You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”

He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”

“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”

You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”

You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”

Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”

He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”

JAY

You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.

Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.

Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.

“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”

“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.

“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”

Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”

“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”

Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”

Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”

“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”

Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”

“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”

And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.

JAKE

You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.

You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”

“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”

Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”

You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”

He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”

Jake smirked. “You totally would.”

“I’d be saving both of us!”

“You’re hot,”

You froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

Of course, he had to flirt.

You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”

“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.

SUNGHOON

You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”

Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”

You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.

But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”

You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”

“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”

Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”

“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”

That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?

He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”

Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”

SUNOO

“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.

“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”

“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”

You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!

“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”

Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”

Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”

You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”

JUNGWON

You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.

“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”

Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.

You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.

“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”

He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.

“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”

You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”

He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”

“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”

“Well, someone had to say it!”

Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”

You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”

NI-KI

You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”

You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”

Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”

Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.

[arcanarix]

f!sorcerer reader, dubcon, stalking, possessiveness, harassment (there will be a non sorcerer reader version)

bully!satosugu aren’t your average bullies. they aren’t bogged down each time you ignore their attempts at getting under your skin. they know you’re smart and know better… but so are they and they do too. and maybe they’re less interested in breaking you down more than simply getting to know you :)

(but they need to understand you aren’t your average target. you can and will stand up for yourself. you don’t show much interest in general and that just baffles them.)

bully!satosugu…who aren’t the kind to dominate the small world of jujutsu tech one because there’s no reason for that or anything to gain from it either but they are instead viewed as just two boys sharing the same brain cell. shoko and utahime tell you not to pay them any mind; they’re just two dumbasses with an overinflated sense of importance being speshul grades. nanami even reiterates the fact. plus they annoy everyone, so it’s not like you’re a special case here.

bully!satosugu who get all up in your space and in your business, ignoring your protests when they snatch your books and notes out of your hands and lap and geto’s scooping you into his strong hold instead.

“why’s a grade 3 sorcerer wasting her time? trust me, we have better things in mind for a pretty thing like you,” geto purrs.

“and besides, what use is a grade 3 in the field when the two strongest can just take care of everything? hmmmm?” gojo taunts while fiddling with a stray strand of your hair.

instead of seeming intimidated, you’re just annoyed that your work has been disrupted. you don’t give them an outward reaction, just a deadpan, “if you don’t let me go i’ll use my curse technique to castrate the two of you.”

that seems to work for now!

bully!satosugu who…for some reason hover over you like they’re your bodyguards yet you treat them as if they’re not there the entire time. even if gojo can usually annoy someone to the point of tears, you don’t react, instead you’re able to completely tune him AND geto out.

how… Unnerving! Perplexing?

bully!satosugu who HATE to see you divert your attention to anyone else be it nanami or haibara or even shoko and utahime. something sets them off when you giggle a little too hard at some off hand deadpan remark nanami makes, you keep making eyes at him like you like him and not them. what’s up with that? and then they see nanami resting his hand on your thigh……….

and shooting a glare their way, as if to ward them off of you or else? wha?

bully!satosugu who aren’t keen on the idea of you trying to have a life outside of them (you never wanted a life with them from the start, but you digress) so they corner you in one of the empty lecture halls. you tell them you don’t know what they mean. in fact you insist, because you really don’t understand (or really care either). you have no regard for them, but they seem to hold so much interest in you and they don’t like that you don’t appreciate their attention so you had to get it instead from fucking NANAMI.

setting your book on your lap, you meet their accusatory gazes with disinterest.

“i don’t have to entertain any of this,” you remark, “i’m not interested in engaging in something like this when we’re in an environment where we’re forced to coexist. i will acknowledge you as my peers but nothing more.”

thinking you have the last word, you get up and brush past them, but geto grabs your wrist and twists you around. you grunt.

“maybe we have to show her why she should want us by her side, satoru,” he suggests in a low, dangerous tone.

“will she actually learn this time, though?”

“oh, it doesn’t matter. we can always repeat the lesson until she understands,” geto yanks you toward him until your back hits his front, your breath hitching as you feel a growing erection through his baggy uniform.

“you both might find better payoff deepthroating each other,” you scoff.

geto’s nostrils flare at that.

“such a foul mouth,” he snarls, "better watch that tone with us."

“yeah,” satoru pitches in, inching closer with a little smirk. “maybe we ought to plug it up.”

TBC???

[mi55delulu]

[9:56 p.m.]

pairing: lawyer!jungkook x lawyer!fem reader

cw: fluff, mature language, banter, established relationship, mentions of domestic violence, inaccurate depiction of law bc do i look like a lawyer? 😭 written in lowercase and also, unedited … boo me.

—

“how could you?!” you slammed the newspaper down onto jungkook’s desk. he peered up at you through his glasses, unsurprised at your reaction. the headline of said newspaper read: superstar mingyu suspected of cheating on korea’s sweetheart somi in amidst of domestic violence trial.

“i knew you played dirty, but this is a new low for you, jeon jungkook.” you sneer, pacing back and forth in his office. he watches you, eyes never leaving the way your skirt hugged your figure.

“well, did he not? the pictures on your phone from the paps tell us otherwise.” jungkook leans back in his leather chair. he looks good like this — hair slicked back neatly with a couple of strands framing his forehead, tie loose around his neck, and sleeves rolled up on his forearms to display his tattoos he’d usually cover in the courtroom.

you and jungkook were from the same cohort in law school. the best students in that year, always neck and neck when it came to your coursework. though, jungkook had one thing that you lacked: charm. he was always able to persuade the judge and jury at the very last minute.

in school, you both learned the three simple rules of persuasion: ethos, pathos, and logos. you liked sticking with the facts — logos. after all, the law is above all and justice is only proven in the court. jungkook, however, played his cards using tactics that swayed hearts. it frustrated you, but it always gave him the upper hand. things haven’t changed much from school now that you were both associates in the top rival law firms in korea.

you continue, “it doesn’t justify the abuse—” “alleged.” jungkook interjects with a smile.

“—he sustained from your client! for all we know, there was no overlap.” you palm your forehead and rub your temples to ease the forthcoming migraine.

jungkook stands up and comes around his desk, “baby.”

jungkook swayed many hearts in the courtroom, but he only had one heart in mind. you were a tough case to crack, but that’s what he loves about you. so headstrong, so smart.

he chased you down after every mock trial to offer a drink after another one of your losses against him. it’s a common practice for law school students — work hard, play harder. like clockwork, you’d hold up a hand to decline respectfully. but after you’d won in an exceptionally hard trial, you finally accepted his offer to drink. that was the turning point for your relationship in the coming years with him.

he corners you against his desk, arms caging your sides as he leans in to kiss your cheek while making his way down your neck. if you were truly upset with him, you wouldn’t have let him near you, let alone touch you like this.

“i’m sorry.” he means it, doesn’t like upsetting you, but he also hates losing big profile cases. he reckons you’re the same given with how you barged into his office. it’s not the first time and his secretary has given up trying to stop you.

“fuck you,” you scowl, to which jungkook answers with a nod against your neck, “keep this shit up and i’m going to postpone the wedding date. also, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“i’ll make it up to you after the trial, okay?” he kisses up your jaw.

“that’s bribery, jungkook.” you lull your head to the side, too tired to continue this argument with your fiancé.

“all’s fair in love and war.”

—

a/n: hehe was this okay? thought i’d drop off something small to kickoff 2025. lmk if i should continue these lil timestamp drabbles or if you’d prefer longer fics. if you like longer fics … you’ll rarely hear from me since my lil pea brain takes a minimum of 10 business days to write 1k words LOL anyways, have a lovely day

[burningembers91]

Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in

A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.

You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.

You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.

Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?

“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.

“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”

Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.

He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.

That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.

“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.

“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”

You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.

“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.

You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.

“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.

“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.

Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.

“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”

You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.

“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.

“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”

Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.

“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.

You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.”

A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.

You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Four

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Four: alcohol consumption, profanities, angst, seonghwa talks about a toxic person in his past, mention of a restraining order and going through a rough breakup, lotssss of fluff in this part after the initial angst parts. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

A month later, your relationship with Seonghwa had evolved into something far more intense than you’d ever expected. Your days were filled with teasing glances, stolen kisses, and luxurious dates that always ended in nights that left you breathless, and overall, a lot of sex. It was magnetic, fiery, and consuming in the best way.

Yet, in the quiet moments, when the rush of adrenaline faded, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind. You still hadn’t asked him about the past.

You’d told yourself it didn’t matter. That the way he touched you, cared for you, and looked at you as though you were his entire world was enough. And maybe it was—until the reality of your arrangement crept in. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the delay in finalizing your engagement had real consequences for his company. You knew Seonghwa wouldn’t push you, but every passing day added to the strain.

But tonight, that would change.

If you were going to marry this man, you needed to understand everything—especially if it involved you.

The soft glow of candlelight illuminated your living room as you sat curled on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. You’d invited him over for dinner, deciding that the intimacy of your home would make the conversation easier, and because your family was away on a business trip that didn’t require your presence.

When the bell rang, your heart raced. You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, as composed and handsome as ever, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand.

“For you,” he said with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in. His presence filled the space effortlessly, the air shifting the way it always did when he was near.

Dinner was a quiet affair, filled with comfortable silences and the occasional light-hearted remark. But as the plates were cleared and the mood turned softer, you knew it was time.

“Seonghwa,” you started, your voice steady, though your hands fidgeted with the edge of the napkin in your lap. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

He set his wine glass down, his expression softening but still attentive. “What’s on your mind, my love?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… never really asked you about our past… the reason I resented you for so long.”

Seonghwa reached for your hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on your skin. “I’ve had a feeling you wanted to talk about this. I didn’t push because I wanted you to bring it up when you felt ready.”

“I just…” You hesitated, searching his face for a reaction. “You know, we slept together so many times before, and the next day, you acted like it didn’t matter. I understand we were drunk out of our minds, but… I don’t know. Maybe I don’t understand why things never grew between us back then?”

He sighed, his gaze dipping to where your hands intertwined. “I owe you the truth about that.” He paused, his tone carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. “I’ve always had feelings for you since we were 23, Y/N. Always. But… there were things happening back then that made it impossible for me to act on them.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What things?”

“Do you know Shin Nayeon?” he asked cautiously.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded. “Shin Group’s daughter?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “When I was younger, my parents had an informal agreement with hers. It was one of those old-fashioned things—two families joking about marrying off their children to secure business ties. My parents never took it seriously, but hers did.”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “So… what happened?”

“When I turned 21, the Shins started pushing for an engagement,” he explained. “At the time, I was dating someone… someone I thought I’d marry. But Nayeon found out and intervened. She told my girlfriend at that time some horrible things, things that weren’t true, and it ended us.”

Your heart clenched at the sadness in his voice. “That’s awful.”

“She was relentless,” Seonghwa continued, his jaw tightening, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. “She spread rumors, made demands, and even tried to manipulate my parents. But they refused to entertain her. I thought that would be enough to stop her, but she didn’t back off. I filed a restraining order, but it was useless. Her family had too much influence—they got it dismissed before it even mattered.”

You absorbed his words, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. “So, when we…”

“I was protecting you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. “I knew what I felt for you was real, but I couldn’t trust myself to keep you safe. Everything that came with being involved with me felt like too much of a risk. Nayeon would’ve found a way to hurt you, to drag you into her chaos. And…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor before returning to yours. “You’re Joong’s sister. He knew about Nayeon and what she was capable of. If I got involved with you and anything happened, he would’ve lost his mind.”

You processed his words, your emotions swirling. “Joong knew?”

“He knew about Nayeon,” Seonghwa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not about my feelings for you, though. But even without that, he was protective of you. If I’d let things progress between us, especially with you being from a wealthy family, Nayeon would’ve weaponized the media against you to have her way. I couldn’t let that happen.”

You looked at him, the conflict evident in his expression. “So, instead, you pushed me away... multiple times.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I thought I was sparing you from the mess, but I realize now that I just hurt you instead. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was selfish and scared.”

You stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. It explained so much—his distance, the tension, and the unspoken emotions between you all these years.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you said finally, your tone softer than you expected.

“I wish I had too,” he replied earnestly. “But now, I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I want us to move forward with no secrets between us.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the honesty in his words. “Thank you for telling me.”

“And thank you for listening,” he said, his voice warm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the connection between you only deepened. For the first time, it felt like the past wasn’t a barrier but a bridge to understanding each other better.

“So what happened to Nayeon after?” you asked, breaking the momentary silence. “I know she’s married now.”

“After nearly five years of harassing me, the Moon family approached her parents with a proposal for their second youngest son,” Seonghwa said, leaning back slightly, his expression a mix of relief and lingering exasperation. “He’s quite handsome and from a ridiculously wealthy family. One day, she came up to me and said she found someone more handsome and richer, and then just like that, she left me alone. I didn’t trust it at first, but after her wedding went through, I could finally breathe.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Five years? That’s… insane.”

“It was,” he admitted, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “By the time she finally moved on, I had gotten used to looking over my shoulder. It took a while to realize she was really gone.”

You let his words sink in, the weight of what he’d endured slowly settling in your mind. “And during all that… you and I…”

“It was when we were pursuing our master’s degrees,” Seonghwa interjected, his gaze softening as he recalled the memory. “Do you remember?”

You nodded, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I remember waking up the next morning, hoping to see you still there,” he continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But you were gone. San and Jongho saw you leaving my place. They weren’t subtle about their surprise.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment but pushed through it. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t exactly thinking straight back then.”

“It was a complicated time,” Seonghwa said gently, his eyes holding yours. “What threw me off was when I found out later that you got back together with your ex. I asked Joong about you, and he told me the news like it was nothing. I… wasn’t sure how to feel.”

You bit your lip, the weight of his words making your heart ache. “I didn’t know, Seonghwa. I had no idea how much it mattered to you back then.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I never said anything. I didn’t fight for what I wanted. I let the circumstances and my fears control me.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his. “Well, you’re here now, and so am I. Maybe it wasn’t the right time then, but it feels like it is now.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I’ll make sure I don’t waste it this time.”

The quiet promise in his voice sent a warmth through you, solidifying the unspoken understanding that despite the twists and turns of your past, you were both ready to move forward together.

-x-x-x-

Seonghwa adjusted his tie as he sat in the elegant sitting room of your family’s mansion. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood and tasteful decor. Your mother poured tea into delicate china cups, while your father leaned back in his chair, observing Seonghwa with an approving smile.

“I must say, Seonghwa,” your father began, his voice warm, “it’s always a pleasure having you here. Though, I admit I’m curious about the purpose of this visit. Joong told us you had something important to discuss.”

Seonghwa straightened his posture, his expression a mix of confidence and sincerity. “Yes, sir. I do.”

Hongjoong, who had been lounging casually on the couch, suddenly perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Seonghwa. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Seonghwa admitted, taking a steadying breath. “I wanted to speak with you all because it concerns Y/N and our future together.”

Your mother’s hands paused mid-air as she reached for her tea. She exchanged a glance with your father, her curiosity piqued. “Go on,” she encouraged, her tone kind but intrigued.

Seonghwa clasped his hands together, leaning slightly forward. “I would like to ask for your permission to propose to Y/N.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Your parents shared a look of surprise, and even Hongjoong looked momentarily caught off guard even though Seonghwa told him before that he’d rather propose; he didn’t think Seonghwa would actually go through with it.

“A proposal?” your father echoed, his eyebrows raising slightly. “That’s… unexpected. Families like ours typically sit down and come to a mutual agreement about engagements.”

“I understand,” Seonghwa replied, his voice steady and respectful. “But I don’t want this to be just a formality or a business decision. Y/N means far more to me than that. I want to ask her properly, to show her that this is about love and partnership, not just obligation or tradition.”

Your mother’s expression softened, a pleased smile curving her lips. “That’s quite thoughtful of you, Seonghwa. I must say, it’s refreshing to hear this perspective.”

Hongjoong leaned back, crossing his arms. “You do realize Y/N isn’t exactly the easiest person to win over, right? You’re sure about this?”

“More than anything,” Seonghwa replied without hesitation.

Your father nodded slowly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Well, I have to say, Seonghwa, you’ve impressed us since the very beginning. We’ve seen how much you respect and care for Y/N, and that’s what matters most to us.”

“Absolutely,” your mother added warmly. “You have our blessing.”

Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this determined to deal with my sister. But you’ve got my support too—just don’t mess it up.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to me.”

As he sipped his tea, Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief and anticipation. Now all that remained was picking the perfect ring for you and bringing his proposal plans to reality—a moment he was determined to make unforgettable.

-

“Hyung… oh my god, we’ve been to like, eight stores already,” Wooyoung groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically as he leaned against the glass counter of yet another upscale jewelry store. “How hard is it for you to pick a ring? Just pick one. They’re all shiny and expensive. She’ll love any of them.”

Seonghwa, unfazed, inspected yet another diamond solitaire ring under the bright store lights, tilting it slightly to see how the facets caught the light. “It’s not just about shiny and expensive, Wooyoung,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “It has to be perfect. She deserves that.”

Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, but does it have to be this hard? We’ve been at this for hours. My feet hurt, my patience is gone, and I think the saleslady over there is about two seconds away from calling security because she thinks we’re casing the place.”

Mingi, who was lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner, laughed. “To be fair, hyung, you have been scrutinizing every single ring in the city like your life depends on it. At this point, just have one custom-made.”

Seonghwa sighed, placing the ring back onto its velvet display. “I thought about that, but custom orders take weeks, and I don’t want to wait that long. I need the proposal to happen soon.”

“Why the rush?” Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, “I’ve already waited too long to tell her how I feel. And with everything that’s happened recently… I want her to know I’m serious. I want her to know she’s my future.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically. “Aww, hyung, that’s so romantic. But also, can you speed this up? I need food. I’m dying here.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying, Wooyoung. You’re just dramatic.”

As the two bickered, Seonghwa’s eyes fell on a particular ring—a classic design with a round brilliant-cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds, set on a delicate platinum band. It wasn’t overly flashy, but it exuded timeless elegance.

The sales associate noticed his interest and stepped forward with a warm smile. “Excellent choice, sir. This one is one of our most popular designs for proposals. It’s simple, yet elegant—a symbol of everlasting love.”

Seonghwa picked it up and examined it closely. It was perfect. It reminded him of you: elegant, understated, yet undeniably captivating.

“This is the one,” he said decisively, slipping the ring back into its box.

“Finally!” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his arms up in mock relief. “Can we eat now?”

Seonghwa chuckled, ignoring his friend’s dramatics. “Get the car while I pay,” he told Wooyoung whom immediately agreed, dragging Mingi along with him.

While Seonghwa paid for the ring, an idea popped up in his head, and he looked at the sales associate with a smirk on his face. “Do you do customized designs? Not for jewelry… but showpieces?”

-

Nari leaned back in her office chair, glancing cautiously at the glass walls of her workspace to ensure no one could overhear her conversation. Holding her phone close, she spoke in a hushed but amused tone.

“Look, Mr. Park, I’m telling you, don’t plan anything for this week,” she said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Trust me on this—Y/N will not want to be on a yacht or anywhere fancy while she’s on her period.”

There was a short pause before Seonghwa’s voice came through, slightly hesitant. “Are you sure? She didn’t mention anything about it to me.”

Nari rolled her eyes, though her tone remained playful. “Of course she didn’t. She’s not going to tell you something like that directly, especially not when you’re still in the whole ‘charming romantic’ phase of your relationship. That’s why you’ve got me.”

Seonghwa sighed, clearly relieved. “Alright. Next week it is, then. She loves the sea, and I want her to enjoy every moment of it.”

“Exactly,” Nari agreed, tapping her pen against her desk. “Schedule the yacht for next week, and maybe throw in some spa time or a nice dinner this weekend instead. Keep things low-key for now.”

“I appreciate this,” Seonghwa said earnestly. “Thank you, Nari. I owe you one.”

She smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, you owe me more than one. I’m practically your accomplice at this point. If Y/N ever finds out I’m helping you plan all this behind her back, I’m denying everything.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Noted. I’ll make sure to cover for you if it ever comes up.”

“Good,” Nari replied, checking the time. “Now go do your billionaire CEO thing or whatever. I’ve got real work to do.”

Seonghwa’s laughter was warm and genuine. “You’re a lifesaver, Nari. Thanks again.”

As the call ended, Nari shook her head with a small smile. “She better marry this guy,” she muttered under her breath before diving back into her paperwork.

-

Seonghwa stood behind the bar counter at Mingi’s establishment, his sleeves rolled up, a focused expression on his face. The bar was quiet this afternoon, Mingi having locked the doors to ensure no interruptions during their little mixology lesson.

Mingi leaned against the counter, watching Seonghwa’s meticulous movements with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Hyung, you don’t have to look like you’re performing heart surgery. It’s just a cocktail.”

“This is Y/N’s favorite cocktail,” Seonghwa countered, his voice sharp with determination. “She said it’s the best drink in the world. I can’t mess this up.”

Wooyoung, seated on one of the barstools, swirled a mocktail in his hand. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure if she knew you were going to this length, she’d already be swooning. You don’t have to perfect it, hyung.”

“Perfection is the bare minimum,” Seonghwa shot back, carefully measuring the ingredients. “Tell me again, Mingi. What’s the trick to getting that foam on top just right?”

Mingi smirked, reaching for a shaker. “It’s all in the shake. You’ve got to go hard and fast, no half-hearted effort. Like this.” He demonstrated with exaggerated movements, the shaker rattling loudly in his hands.

Wooyoung snickered. “I’ve seen you use those moves on the dance floor, Mingi. Impressive multitasking.”

Mingi flipped him off without missing a beat. “Watch and learn, Woo.” He poured the mixture into a glass, revealing a perfectly frothy layer. “Now you try, lover boy.”

Seonghwa took the shaker, his brows furrowed in concentration. He mimicked Mingi’s movements, his arms flexing as he shook the cocktail with vigor.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Mingi. “Hyung’s shaking that thing like it owes him money.”

Mingi snorted, but the laughter died quickly when Seonghwa poured the drink into a glass, revealing a near-perfect foam.

“Not bad,” Mingi admitted, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “You’re a quick learner.”

Seonghwa allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he garnished the drink with precision. “She’ll love this.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “You’re setting the bar too high for the rest of us, hyung. Can’t wait for Y/N to brag about how her fiancé makes her custom cocktails at home.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened at the word fiancé. “She deserves every bit of effort. I want everything about that night to be perfect.”

Mingi grinned, handing him the recipe card. “Well, you’ve got the drink down. Just don’t forget to actually ask her to marry you between impressing her with cocktails and gazing at her like a lovesick puppy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, slipping the card into his pocket. “Noted. Thanks for this, Mingi. And for keeping it a secret.”

“Anything for true love,” Mingi replied with mock seriousness, raising his mocktail in a toast.

Wooyoung smirked. “Anything except letting me have this cocktail for free, apparently.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “Pay up or shut up, Woo.”

As the three men exchanged banter, Seonghwa couldn’t help but imagine your reaction, already counting down the days until the proposal.

---

The warm scent of lavender and eucalyptus surrounded you as you settled into the plush spa chair, your nails being meticulously painted by a skilled technician. Yeri sat beside you, her feet soaking in a tub of warm, scented water, a serene smile on her face that made you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“You’re unusually chipper today,” you remarked, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye.

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Yeri retorted, feigning offense.

“You dragged me to a whole-day spa retreat out of the blue,” you pointed out. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but what’s the occasion?”

She shrugged, a little too nonchalantly. “Does there have to be an occasion? Maybe I just wanted some girl time with my CEO best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeri, the last time you did something like this, it was to butter me up before telling me you totaled your car that I bought you for your birthday.”

Yeri gasped dramatically. “I cannot believe you would bring up my darkest moment during such a relaxing day.”

You smirked. “So? What is it? Spill.”

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her robe. “Fine. Maybe I just thought you could use a day to unwind. You’ve been busy with work, and… things have been going really well with Seonghwa, haven’t they?”

The mention of his name made your cheeks warm. “They have. But what does that have to do with this?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just thought, you know, you deserve to feel pampered.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” she insisted, though the guilty flicker in her expression betrayed her.

Before you could press further, the nail technician announced she was finished, and Yeri sprang to her feet. “Massage time!” she said, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you toward the treatment rooms.

“Okay, now you’re definitely up to something,” you said as you followed her, laughing.

Later, during the massage, Yeri lay on her stomach, her face hidden in the cradle of the massage table. “You know,” she said, her voice muffled, “if Seonghwa ever proposes, you better say yes.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you turned your head toward her, frowning. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just saying,” she replied, her tone overly casual. “He’s, like, the perfect guy. Thoughtful, successful, hot…”

You laughed softly. “Are you trying to convince me to marry him?”

“Nope, not at all,” Yeri said quickly. “Just… planting a seed.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Seonghwa wouldn’t propose, Yeri. This is a business arrangement, so basically like a mutual engagement ceremony, not a get down on one knee kind of thing.”

Yeri bit her lip to stifle her grin. She couldn’t wait to see your reaction tomorrow.

-

The soft hum of the yacht's engine and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the hull created a serene atmosphere. The sun was beginning its set on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of gold, pink, and lavender. The air was cool, the scent of the ocean salty and fresh, as it tousled your hair and tugged at your fitted white dress. You leaned against the railing of the top deck, your gaze lost in the vast, endless expanse of water, trying to take in the beauty of the moment.

It was peaceful, calming, perfect.

And then you felt Seonghwa’s presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him; you felt him before you saw him. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the kind that made your heart flutter just a little.

“This view suits you,” his voice broke through the silence, low and intimate.

You turned to face him, catching a glimpse of his slightly tousled hair, the loose white linen shirt he was wearing flowing in the evening breeze. He looked effortlessly handsome, confident, and calm—but you could sense the tension in his jaw, the anticipation in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied softly, giving him a smile as you gestured to the horizon. “I can’t remember the last time I had time to enjoy something like this.”

He stepped closer, his gaze not leaving yours. There was something in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. But it was masked by the usual composure he wore.

“So, this is the yacht you bought?” you asked, unable to hide the playful tone in your voice. “Seems... extravagant.”

His lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Sort of,” he said, his tone light and casual, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation. “Sort of?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Okay, it’s Jongho’s yacht.”

“Jongho’s?” you repeated, half-laughing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to saw me the yacht you bought? And here I thought you were trying to impress me with your wealth.”

“Well, that too,” he admitted with a sly grin. “But I thought it would be the perfect setting for tonight.”

“Tonight?” You felt a flutter of curiosity in your chest. “What’s so special about tonight?”

He didn’t answer right away, only extended his hand toward you with a slow, deliberate motion. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Without another word, you took his hand, your heart thumping against your chest as you followed him down to the main deck. The staff was nowhere in sight; it was just the two of you now, the quiet intimacy of the space wrapping around you.

The dinner table was set perfectly, with crisp white linens, glowing candles, and a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting in the center. The soft light from the candles flickered in the dimming twilight, casting a warm glow across everything.

You gasped softly, a smile forming on your lips. “Wow… Seonghwa, this is—”

“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice almost tentative.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within you. “Like it? I love it.”

He gave you a satisfied smile and pulled out your chair for you, a gentleman as always, though there was an unmistakable edge to his demeanor tonight.

As dinner went on, you were lost in the moment, savoring every bite of food, every glance between you two, and the rare, intimate silence that settled between you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves, the gentle hum of the engine setting a peaceful rhythm. But you could feel the change in the air. Something was different about tonight. Something was building.

When dessert came—a delicate chocolate mousse with fresh berries—Seonghwa suddenly stood up, his movements slow, deliberate. You followed his lead, your curiosity piqued.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious than before.

You set your spoon down, meeting his eyes. Your heart was racing now, a small flutter of anticipation at the back of your throat.

His gaze softened as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. The moment you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything seemed to freeze.

“Y/N…” He lowered himself to one knee in front of you, his expression tender and vulnerable. “I know things didn’t start like a typical relationship, but what we’ve built together means everything to me. You mean everything to me, and I’m unconditionally in love with you. You’ve brought joy, peace, and a kind of love into my life I didn’t know I was missing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And so...”

He opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the soft glow of the candles and reflecting the light as though it was alive. The room seemed to hold its breath as you stared at the ring, then back at him, the love in his eyes almost tangible.

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You couldn’t speak right away, your heart in your throat, but your eyes welled with tears as you stared at him. Everything he’d said, everything he had done to make this moment perfect, flooded over you. The love, the patience, the depth of his feelings for you—it was all too much to process.

With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Seonghwa, I’ll marry you.”

His face broke into the widest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen. He slipped the ring onto your finger with trembling hands, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, he stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmured against your hair.

You laughed softly, your hands trembling as you touched his chest, feeling his heart beat in sync with yours. “I think we just made each other the happiest.”

The kiss that followed was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of forever. The world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only Seonghwa, your now fiancé, and a love that had finally come full circle.

The sudden sound of cheers broke through the intimate bubble you and Seonghwa had created. You pulled back from the kiss, startled, only to see the yacht staff clapping enthusiastically. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face in Seonghwa’s chest, overwhelmed and a little embarrassed by the attention.

“They were in on it?” you asked, your voice muffled against him.

Seonghwa chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter soothing. “Of course. I needed some help to make tonight perfect. All our friends helped in some way.”

A photographer you hadn’t noticed before stepped forward, his camera clicking as he captured more pictures of the two of you. He must have been hiding nearby, capturing the entire proposal as it unfolded.

You glanced at Seonghwa, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Pictures too? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

He smiled down at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t want to forget a single moment of this night. And I thought you might like to have these memories to look back on someday.”

The photographer took a few more shots, stepping back with a satisfied nod. “Congratulations to the both of you,” he said warmly before retreating, likely to give you privacy.

The staff, sensing the moment was still yours to savor, began quietly retreating to their stations, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once more. The candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the yacht filled the silence.

You looked down at the ring now adorning your finger, its brilliance dazzling even in the dim light. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, running your thumb over the delicate band.

Seonghwa gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze full of love and adoration.

A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. “You’re such a romantic. I never would have guessed.”

He smirked, leaning closer so his forehead rested against yours. “You bring it out of me.”

You sighed, letting the warmth of his words settle over you. “Thank you, Seonghwa. For all of this. For… us.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to anchor you to him. “I should be thanking you. You said yes, after all.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the reality of your new future sinking in. The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter, and the ocean stretched endlessly around you—a perfect metaphor for the journey you were about to embark on together.

Finally, he pulled back, his expression turning mischievous. “Now, Mrs. Park-to-be,” he said, his tone light, “how about we celebrate properly? I took some lessons from Mingi on how to make your favorite cocktail.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Mingi gave you lessons? This I have to see.”

Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you gently toward the staircase leading below deck. “I figured it was only right, considering how much you love that drink. But fair warning, I’m not a professional… yet.”

You laughed, following his lead, a giggle escaping your lips. “I have very high expectations, fiancé.”

The word felt foreign yet perfect as it rolled off your tongue, and the way Seonghwa’s face lit up at hearing it made your heart swell. He glanced back at you, his smile softening into something far more intimate.

“I don’t plan on disappointing you,” he murmured, his tone carrying a quiet promise.

The lower deck was as beautifully arranged as the top, with soft lighting and a cozy seating area near a fully stocked bar. Seonghwa guided you to sit while he moved behind the bar, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated flair.

“Alright, let’s see if I remember everything Mingi drilled into me,” he said, picking up the shaker.

You leaned back, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him with amusement. “No pressure or anything. But if it’s terrible, I’m never letting you forget it.”

He shot you a mock glare before getting to work, carefully measuring and mixing the ingredients with surprising precision. As he worked, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly charming he looked, even while concentrating.

Finally, he poured the drink into a chilled glass, sliding it across the bar toward you with a triumphant grin. “One Y/N-approved cocktail, ready to impress.”

You took a cautious sip, the familiar flavors bursting on your tongue. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “Seonghwa… this is actually good.”

His grin turned smug, and he leaned against the bar, watching you with a glint in his eye. “Is that so? I’ll take that as a win.”

Setting the glass down, you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “A big win,” you admitted, pulling him closer.

Seonghwa’s arms circled your waist, and his smile softened as he gazed down at you. He was about to say something, his lips parting, when a sudden flash of light startled you both.

“Ah, sorry!” the photographer said sheepishly, lowering his camera. “I’ve been capturing everything quietly, but I thought I’d try the flash for this one.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised, before chuckling softly. “That’s no problem at all! Thank you for your hard work.”

Seonghwa turned slightly, his hand still resting on your waist, giving the photographer a polite nod. “You’ve been doing an excellent job. We’ll probably frame half of these,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at you.

The photographer grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Park. I’ll make sure the shots are perfect.”

“Shall we go to the top deck to take more pictures?” Seonghwa asked the photographer. “I recall you saying you knew a great technique?”

The photographer grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely, Mr. Park! The top deck at this hour will give us stunning shots with the night sky as a backdrop.”

Seonghwa turned to you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Shall we? I think a few pictures with the stars above and the ocean behind us would be perfect.”

You laughed lightly, slipping your hand into his. “You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you?”

“For you? Always,” he replied without missing a beat, guiding you toward the staircase that led to the top deck.

The cool breeze met you as you stepped onto the open deck, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet. The photographer followed closely, already adjusting his camera settings for the low light.

“Why don’t you stand over there?” he suggested, pointing to the edge of the deck where the soft glow of the yacht’s lights faded into the darkness of the sea. “I’ll frame the two of you with the horizon, it’ll look magical.”

Seonghwa placed his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you stood together at the rail. The photographer clicked away, occasionally murmuring directions.

“Turn just slightly… perfect. Now look at each other—yes, like that!”

You glanced up at Seonghwa, his expression so tender it made your chest ache. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” you teased softly.

He smirked, leaning closer. “Can you blame me? I just proposed to the most beautiful woman in the world. I want every second of this night captured.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you playfully swatted his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, tilting his head just enough to brush a kiss against your temple.

“Got it!” the photographer called, breaking the moment. “These are going to turn out stunning. Do you want a few more with a different angle?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, his smile asking the question as much as his words. “One more set?”

You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Why not? Let’s make this night unforgettable.”

The three of you moved to a new spot on the deck, the laughter and easy banter between you and Seonghwa filling the air as the camera continued to click, immortalizing the beginning of your forever together.

-x-x-x-

Nari burst into your office, barely able to contain her laughter as she waved her phone in the air. “Ms. Y/N! You have to see this. The media is going wild!”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your pen down. “What now?”

With a grin, she handed over her phone. On the screen was an article with a headline so dramatic it almost made you laugh:

“CEO of Byeol Materials Group, Park Seonghwa, Spotted on a Diamond Hunt! Engagement Rumors Spark Frenzy. But Who is the Lucky Woman?”

You blinked, glancing up at Nari before reading the rest aloud:

“Park Seonghwa, the enigmatic and wildly successful CEO of Byeol Materials Group, has been caught making waves yet again—but this time, it’s not about business.

The CEO was seen visiting multiple exclusive jewelry stores over the past few weeks, meticulously inspecting engagement rings. According to insiders from two of the stores, Seonghwa spent considerable time consulting on custom designs, sparking speculation that he’s planning to pop the question.

Known for his fiercely private nature, CEO Park has everyone guessing: Who could the lucky woman be? Industry insiders and fans alike are buzzing with theories, ranging from high-society heiresses to childhood sweethearts.

‘He was extremely particular about what he wanted,’ one jeweler revealed under anonymity. ‘He didn’t settle for anything less than perfection.’

While CEO Park’s representatives have declined to comment, sources close to the CEO hint that the engagement might be announced soon. With his recent public appearances marked by a certain glow and his habit of dodging personal questions, it seems the notoriously composed CEO might be ready to take the leap into married life.

As speculation mounts, one thing is certain: whoever she is, she’s one very lucky lady. Stay tuned as we uncover more about the mystery that is Park Seonghwa’s love life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, handing the phone back to Nari. “They’re really reaching, aren’t they?”

Nari crossed her arms, trying to look innocent but failing miserably. “Reaching? Or spot-on?”

You shot her a look. “You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?”

“Why should I? I was involved in planning the proposal too, after all,” she said with a triumphant smirk.

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “How is this already news? It hasn’t even been 48 hours!”

“Seonghwa’s too high-profile, and the media are like hawks,” Nari replied, still grinning. “But hey, at least they’re calling you lucky.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave her a playful shove. “Out. And don’t you dare let this blow up any further.”

She laughed as she left the room, her voice echoing down the hallway. “No promises!”

-

The dining room at Seonghwa’s luxurious residence was abuzz with conversation as your family and his gathered around the long, elegantly set table. The warm glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, and the soft hum of classical music played in the background, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.

Your mother was the first to bring up the engagement party. “We’re so thrilled to host it at our mansion,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “The new flowers we planted will be in full bloom soon, and it’s the perfect setting for such a special occasion.”

Seonghwa’s mother smiled warmly. “It’s an excellent choice. Intimate, yet grand enough to accommodate everyone we’d like to invite. I’ve heard your family has hosted some of the most memorable events there.”

“Thank you,” your father chimed in, nodding. “We’ve already contacted the decorators and catering teams. They’re preparing something truly exceptional.”

Seonghwa leaned back slightly, his hand casually resting on the arm of his chair. “It sounds like everything is coming together perfectly. What about the guest list? Have we finalized it?”

Hongjoong, seated next to your father, smirked. “Oh, it’s finalized all right. Between both our families, close friends, and the necessary business connections, we’re looking at a sizable number.”

Your mother chuckled. “Not too large, though. We want it to feel personal.”

Seonghwa’s father nodded approvingly. “Good. It’s important to strike that balance.”

Then, as the plates of dessert were being served, the conversation shifted.

“When do we plan to make the public announcement?” Seonghwa’s mother asked, her gaze moving between you and Seonghwa. “There’s been plenty of speculation in the media already.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa, who gave you a reassuring smile before speaking. “I think it would be ideal to announce it right after the engagement party,” he said. “That way, the news will come directly from us, accompanied by official photos. It’ll leave no room for misunderstandings.”

Your father nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a smart approach. We’ll also have more control over the narrative that way.”

“But won’t the media catch wind of the party itself?” your mother asked.

Seonghwa’s mother waved her hand dismissively. “Let them speculate. It’ll only build anticipation. By the time we confirm it, it’ll already be the story everyone’s waiting for.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa agreed. Then, turning his attention to you, he added, “Of course, we’ll only proceed this way if you’re comfortable with it.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his consideration. “I think it sounds like a solid plan. Let’s do it.”

“Wonderful,” his father said, raising his glass. “To a smooth engagement and a future filled with happiness for the two of you.”

Everyone lifted their glasses, the clinking of crystal marking the moment. As the evening went on, the discussion shifted to lighter topics, but the excitement about the upcoming engagement lingered in the air, uniting both families in a shared sense of joy and anticipation.

---

Two weeks later

The engagement party was nothing short of spectacular. Your family mansion had been transformed into a stunning venue, its grand garden illuminated by thousands of twinkling fairy lights and elegant chandeliers suspended from a custom-built canopy. Guests mingled around, their laughter and conversations blending with the soft music from a live string quartet. The scent of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and orchids—filled the air, a testament to the meticulous arrangements.

You stood near the entrance, greeting guests alongside Seonghwa. Dressed in a custom ivory gown adorned with subtle embellishments that sparkled under the lights, you felt every bit the part. Seonghwa, by your side in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looked effortlessly handsome, his presence commanding yet comforting.

“Y/N, you look stunning,” a guest remarked as they passed.

“Thank you,” you replied warmly, your hand instinctively slipping into Seonghwa’s.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong teased, joining you with a drink in hand. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

Seonghwa chuckled, glancing at you. “I think I’ve already won tonight.”

“You’re cheesy,” you said, suppressing a laugh.

“Only for you,” he replied with a wink, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

The evening proceeded seamlessly. The media had been carefully kept at bay, allowing everyone to enjoy the event in peace. Your parents were busy entertaining important guests, while Seonghwa’s parents mingled effortlessly, their charm evident. Friends like San, Yeosang, and Yunho made sure the atmosphere remained lively, occasionally cracking jokes and teasing Seonghwa about “finally sealing the deal.”

As you were chatting with a few guests, you noticed Mingi quickly making his way toward you and Seonghwa, his steps hurried, and Wooyoung trailing behind him, laughing so loudly it turned heads.

“Is it true?” Mingi exclaimed as he reached you, a look of mock astonishment plastered on his face. “Is it actually true? You really did it?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide his smile. “I placed the order for it that day at the store while buying Y/N’s ring. It arrived today.”

Mingi gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Oh my! The wealthy are insane!”

You blinked, thoroughly confused by the exchange. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re wealthy too, Mingi,” Yeosang quipped, joining the group.

“Not as much as lover boy here, clearly!” Mingi shot back, causing Wooyoung to laugh even harder.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” you asked, looking between the men.

Seonghwa chuckled softly, placing a hand on your lower back and gently steering you toward a nearby table. On it sat a sleek, golden-colored vase filled with intricate crystal flowers, their facets sparkling brilliantly under the soft lighting.

You tilted your head, confused by the reaction the simple centerpiece seemed to provoke. “It’s just a vase with crystal flowers. Why is everyone acting so weird?”

“Oh my god!” Mingi exclaimed, dramatically pointing at the vase. “You actually did it!”

“Did what?” you asked, glancing at Seonghwa, who looked more amused by the second.

Hongjoong approached with a sly grin. “I think I need to explain this to my dear sister,” he said, picking up the vase with exaggerated reverence. “These aren’t just crystals, Y/N. These flowers are made of diamonds. And the vase? That’s solid gold.”

Your jaw dropped as the realization hit. “No way,” you breathed, horrified yet slightly in awe.

“Yup, solid gold vase, diamond flowers. You’re engaged to a madman,” Hongjoong teased, handing the vase back to Seonghwa with a smirk.

“Hold on,” you said, still trying to process. “Why would you even…?”

“Y/N being surprised is so funny to me because this probably costs like 0.03% of her net worth,” Yeosang said to Mingi, causing him to gasp in horror while doing the math in his head.

Before Seonghwa could answer you, Wooyoung burst in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Because of me!” he announced proudly. “We were at Mingi’s bar when Seonghwa was freaking out about what flowers to get you. I joked that he should just give you flower-shaped diamonds since he’s so loaded. And this lunatic actually went and did it!”

“Seriously?” you asked, staring at Seonghwa, who looked entirely unapologetic.

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Why settle for regular flowers when I can give you ones that last forever?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands while the others burst into laughter. “You’re impossible.”

As the evening wore on, the party reached its highlight.

A soft chime rang out, signaling that it was time for the formal announcement. Seonghwa gently took your hand and led you to the center of the garden, where a small stage had been set up. The crowd naturally gravitated toward you, forming a semicircle around the stage.

Seonghwa stepped forward, his hand still holding yours, and addressed the crowd. “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us on this very special night. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter, not just for me, but for us.” He glanced at you, his gaze tender and full of love.

You felt a wave of warmth, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace.

“This isn’t just a union of two people,” he continued, “but a blending of families, dreams, and futures. I’m honored and deeply grateful to have Y/N by my side. She’s more than I could ever ask for.”

The guests erupted into applause, some cheering loudly.

He turned to you, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Would you like to say anything?”

You smiled, stepping closer to the microphone. “Thank you all for being here tonight. This means so much to us. And I want to thank Seonghwa—” you turned to him, your smile growing—“for his patience, his kindness, and for always being someone I can count on. I’m looking forward to spending forever with you.”

The applause grew louder, and you felt Seonghwa’s hand squeeze yours gently.

Champagne glasses were passed around as the announcement concluded, and the guests toasted to your happiness. As you clinked glasses with Seonghwa, he leaned in and whispered, “We have more celebrations tonight.”

You blushed, knowing exactly what he meant. The party continued with dancing, laughter, and endless congratulations, but for you and Seonghwa, the night had already become unforgettable.

-

The time had come. The highly anticipated announcement of your engagement was finally being made. But instead of the usual press conference where personal details were shared, both you and Seonghwa had decided to make the announcement with a joint statement from your companies. It was a more formal, yet still deeply personal, way to publicly confirm your relationship and future plans.

The statement was prepared, the details carefully chosen. Your family’s PR team had worked closely with Seonghwa’s to craft the perfect message, one that emphasized both the personal and professional aspects of your union, highlighting not only your relationship but the strength of the bond between your families and their businesses.

The joint statement was released via your respective companies' official websites and social media accounts, accompanied by a few carefully selected photos of the two of you together. It quickly spread across the business world and social media platforms.

Joint Statement from Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies

It is with great pleasure that we announce the engagement of Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, and Kim Y/N, CEO of Aurum Medical Technologies. The decision to formalize their relationship has been made with the full support of both families, who have worked closely together for many years.

In addition to the personal significance of this engagement, this union also symbolizes the continued partnership between Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies as well as the Celestia Group, solidifying a longstanding collaboration that has benefited both our companies and the broader industry.

While this is a deeply personal milestone for CEO Park Seonghwa and CEO Kim Y/N, both parties are committed to continuing their professional work in their respective roles and furthering the legacies of both businesses. We are excited about the future and look forward to what lies ahead as they embark on this new chapter together.

We would like to express our gratitude for the continued support from all our partners, clients, and stakeholders, and we look forward to sharing more with you in the near future.

The message was clear: the engagement was not just a personal matter but also a business decision, an alliance between two powerful families that would benefit both professionally and personally. The timing was strategic, and the tone of the statement was one of unity, strength, and mutual respect.

The reactions came in waves. The business world buzzed with excitement and curiosity, and the media quickly picked up the announcement. People from all corners of the industry began speculating about the potential ramifications of the union, from its impact on the companies to what it meant for future ventures.

But you and Seonghwa knew that this was just the beginning of the next chapter, both professionally and personally.

After the statement was released, the phones began ringing off the hook. Wooyoung had already fielded countless calls from business partners and investors, all eager to congratulate him and express their support. Your own team was handling a similar influx of calls, from acquaintances to business associates who had all read the news with varying degrees of excitement and curiosity.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his eyes meeting yours with an almost playful intensity. “Well, that went smoothly.”

You grinned, feeling the weight of the moment. “You could say that again.”

“I mean, the hard part’s over now, right?” He chuckled, looking at you with a raised brow.

You raised an eyebrow in return, smirking. “You think so? I think this is just the beginning.”

His smile deepened, and he stepped closer to you, his voice low and teasing. “We’ll see about that.”

The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa shifted, a comfortable silence hanging between you both as you exchanged glances. The buzz of congratulatory messages and business calls surrounding you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in the moment.

Seonghwa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your skin. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the business world, the PR statements, and the expectations all melted away. It was just you two.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice a little more serious now, a quiet vulnerability in his tone that you rarely heard.

You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. Your initial response was to make light of it, to tease him, but something about the sincerity in his eyes stopped you. Instead, you answered honestly.

"Yeah," you replied with a small smile. "I am. I'm nervous, though. There’s a lot of pressure, you know?"

Seonghwa nodded in understanding. "I get it. But we’ll take it one step at a time. We’re in it together."

You smiled softly at his words. The comfort in his voice, the way he made sure to acknowledge your feelings even in this whirlwind of changes—it made the idea of marrying him, of officially committing to this, a little less daunting.

"Together," you repeated, the weight of the word settling into your chest. "I think we can handle it."

He took a step closer, his hand resting gently on your waist as he leaned in slightly. "We already are," he said quietly, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back just enough to look at you. "We’ll face whatever comes together. And besides..." He paused, his playful smirk returning. "Planning for the wedding is going to be a breeze compared to what we’ve already been through."

You chuckled, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease. "I have a feeling the real fun’s just about to start."

Seonghwa grinned at that, his eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, I’m sure of it."

End of Part Four.

[peachhcs]

Can you do a lil blurb of Sammy and will still crushing on each other even though they’ve been in a relationship for a while now (like from the start of it to now). Like they still get memorized by each other to this day and it’s just too cute

waittt yesss samy and will still have such a “honeymoon” stage relationship and are always trying to find ways to “wow” one another because they’re just both so in love with one another. like it’s such a playful relationship of continuously crushing on one another and being shocked that they even pulled one another still ahaha

(btw i just got back to school which means i won’t be as active but i promise i see all of your requests!!! i’m posting this to hold you all over until i can get to them :))

au masterlist

when samy got a text from will earlier that day telling her to dress up when he got back from practice because he had something planned, she couldn’t deny the little skip her heart did reading the text nor the smile on her lips.

it was the way he wrote it and added a bunch of cute little emojis that made her swoon just a little bit. he had practice today, so say busied herself doing things in downtown san jose. she was starting to become a regular and a pro at navigating the city without will. now, she wondered what exactly her boyfriend could have going on him his mind that wanted her dressed up.

samy got back to the house and searched her suitcase for something that screamed “dressed up.” she never usually packed a lot, only really trying to stick to basics, so she was struggling and believing that what she packed wasn’t dressy enough. samy should’ve known will would do something like this.

with what she had, the soccer player threw together something that she hoped met what will had in mind. the long, pink satin skirt fell to her ankles and sat at her hips and the white crisscrossed tank top that hugged her midsection and left her lower stomach open screamed dressy enough. at least the floor length satin skirt was dressy. the girl stood in the bathroom touching up her makeup when her phone buzzed again and her boyfriend’s name lit up the screen.

WILL <3

when you’re ready come outside :)

she smiled at his message, hurrying to finish her mascara and add a touch more of lip gloss. samy stuffed her purse with her essentials, shoved her feet into her sands wedges, and then headed down the stairs to the front door where will supposedly was. her stomach was doing little somersaults as she pulled open the door and her eyes widened when she saw will dressed in a nice button down and shorts leaning against his car holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. samy’s cheeks heated up as she slowly descended down the steps.

“hi,” the blonde grinned, eyes drinking in her outfit and his own cheeks heated up seeing how pretty she looked.

“will, what is this?” samy grew confused when he handed her the beautiful blue, purple, and pink flowers. she smelled them, the scent of fresh flowers filling her senses.

“just a little something for my girl,” the hockey player hummed, snaking his hand around her waist and thumbing the open skin on her hip.

“you’re so sweet. these are gorgeous,” she beamed, leaning up to peck his lips.

“get in, there’s more surprises,” will urged which just made samy even more confused, but she hurried around to the other side to climb in.

“what do you have planned?” she giggled catching the glint in the boy’s eyes and his mischievous grin.

“you’ll see. it’s a surprise,” will argued.

they rolled out the driveway and will wouldn’t say anything else, so the girl was left to wonder until they got to their destination. the hockey player reached his right hand over to squeeze her thigh, a soft smile on his lips. samy quickly latched their fingers, squeezing back and looking over to admire how good will looked. his curls were a bit damp from the shower he took after practice, but they were the perfect amount of wet and dry that they fell perfectly on his head samy just wanted to reach out and touch them, but she didn’t because will probably styled them just how he wanted them. instead, her heart fluttered again when he began rubbing his thumb across his hand.

it was a small gesture, but it was one that made samy giddy with excitement still anytime will did it. she felt like such a teenager on her first date right now with the unknown of not knowing where it was or what it was, but the butterfly nerves both of them were feeling and sharing.

when they got on the main drag and will started driving in the direction of santa cruz, she guessed it had something to do with the beach because why else would they go to santa cruz? she kept trying to find his eyes and get him to drop a hint, but will was really good at keeping his face set and secrets in.

“how was practice?” samy broke the silence because she still wanted to talk to will and hear his voice after not seeing him all day.

“it was good. we ran some plays and did a few technique practices,” the boy explained and the girl smiled.

“feeling ready for the game tomorrow?”

“i think so, yeah. it should be a good game,” will agreed which was the first time he’s said that in awhile, so samy was glad to hear that. she let him know that by squeezing his palm.

“what about you? how was your day? buy anything cute?” will turned the conversation to her and she flushed.

“it was good. i walked around downtown and just window shopped. i didn’t buy anything. i don’t know if i have money to buy anything right now,” the girl admitted with a laugh.

“if you saw something, tell me and i’ll buy it for you,” will was quick to cut in and her face flushed

“will, i can’t ask you to do that.”

“then don’t ask, i’m already doing it,” he beamed and the girl just rolled her eyes playfully. it would be a miracle if will had any money left after spending all of it on her.

“well, i didn’t really see anything i wanted, so you’re in the clear for now,” the youngest hughes joked.

“you act like it’s a burden for me to buy you things,” the blonde rolled his eyes back.

“don’t forget our roots. you never would’ve bought me something willingly when we were 12,” samy teased with a small chuckle. younger samy and will were such enemies back then, it was hard to believe this was how they were now.

when they pulled into the parking lot samy wondered what will was getting from the back that she wasn’t supposed to look at yet. she stood away from the car like will instructed just waiting for him to tell her what they were doing for the night. she couldn’t lie about the excitement bubbling in her system because will had always been the best at planning these little surprises.

“okay, you can look,” will said and samy spun around.

her boyfriend had a picnic basket slung on his arm, a beach blanket, and a bottle of wine in his hands. the girl’s eyes widened as a large smile crept its way to her lips.

“oh my god, will,” she gushed and the blonde just loved seeing that smile on his girlfriend’s lips.

“how do you feel about a sunset picnic on the beach?” he grinned back.

“i love you,” samy reached up to place a sweet kiss to his lips before letting him lead them down to the warm sand.

luckily, it wasn’t too crowded as they found a spot far away enough that the tide wouldn’t get them wet. samy watched as will opened the basket and pulled out two wine glasses and then the entire grocery store—he seriously must’ve bought all of the pastries, deserts, and appetizers.

“where’d you even get all of this stuff?” samy wondered as she helped lay it out around them.

“the basket is christina’s. i pitched the idea to her last night and she was very much on board. the beach blanket is mack’s. i got the food at the grocery store after practice,” will beamed feeling pretty proud of himself for doing this and it really was worth it to see the smile on samy’s lips.

“and the wine?” she raised her eyebrow.

“eklund.”

“ah, makes sense. well, this is really sweet, will. you wow me,” the girl giggled.

“you wow me too. thought we could have a little date since it’s been so busy lately and i probably won’t see you for awhile after this,” will admitted and a soft smile fell on both of their lips.

they dug into the food and the wine. for being best friends their whole lives, they never seemed to ever run out of things to talk about. samy and will talked about everything and anything while they ate and got (mainly samy because will had to drive home eventually) somewhat wine drunk. they talked about college and everything samy didn’t tell will over facetime. will talked about his teammates and if he could assign them a shred character who would they be. they talked about next summer and where they think they’d be besides the lake house. samy teased will about how much the fans loved his and mack’s friendships and how she was getting replaced (no one could ever replace samy in will’s mind).

by the time they covered all of their bases, two hours had passed and the food was nearly all gone. the sun was almost all the way set below the horizon for the night, but the lights from the town above kept the beach lit for them.

samy was laying on will’s chest. her head found a place over his heart where she listened to its steady rhythm. will’s arm was hooked securely around her waist, still thumbing the open skin between her skirt and shirt. now they were just admiring the starts starting to come out as the sky grew darker and the sun disappeared. it was so perfect.

“did i tell you how beautiful you look?” will mumbled making samy look up at him. he peered down at her while she peered up at him, a soft smile finding its way to her lips.

“you may have mentioned it,” she stroked her thumb over his chest where some of the buttons on his shirt were undone and exposed his toned muscles.

“well, you look really beautiful. you had me speechless when i saw you come out,” the hockey player said making samy blush from the bottom of her neck to the tips of her ears. those compliments would always get her no matter how many times will said them.

“you’re just saying that,” she mumbled.

“i’m not. you make me speechless a lot,” the blonde mumbled.

“you make speechless too. you look pretty handsome yourself. i didn’t know you had these clothes hiding at practice,” she half joked.

“i grabbed them before i left. been thinking about being here with you all day,” will used his other hand to thumb some of samy’s loose strands of hair away from her face.

they gazed into one another’s eyes as the moment closed in around them and it was just samy and will in their own little world.

“how’d i get so lucky?” samy muttered quietly.

“you tell me. how’d i get so lucky?” the boy echoed her words.

“would you have guessed we’d start dating when we were 12?” the girl giggled and will rolled his eyes lightly.

“you’re back to this huh?”

“i’m just saying. we hated each other so much when we were 12 and now we’re confessing our love to one another on a beach,” it just made samy laugh that this ended up being their fate even though she would never ask to change any of it.

“i mean i did have a crush on you when were 12, so it’s not that far off,” will shrugged with a small smile.

“what? you did?” this was news to the soccer player.

“i mean we were 12 and like having those weird phases and moods where we were first developing feelings..i don’t know, but yeah kind of. maybe that was why i was so mean to you because i didn’t know why i was feeling that way towards you. it eventually faded obviously until we got older,” the blonde laughed.

“wow, i didn’t even know that. i just genuinely disliked you.”

“alright,” will mumbled, but samy pushed herself up to peck his lips.

“i couldn’t imagine anything different though. i love you so much,” the brunette beamed. god, will loved that smile so much, especially when he was the cause.

“i love you a lot, samy. you’re my girl forever,” he wrapped both arms around her torso and held her ad close as he could even though they were already as close as they could be.

“you’re mine forever,” she kissed his chest before turning her gaze back to the stars that were now shining brightly above them in all their glory.

[akookminsupporter]

Hello, I'm not sure if you'll see this or not but I thought I would ask so I know everyone is excited about BTS year this year and is eager to anticipate their return, and I kind of wanted to talk about the infantilization of BTS prior to their MS and when they come out, so I do know at their core, BTS will still be the same loveable people, but my thoughts are running on who defines what infantilism is when it comes to the boys, for example: I was being accused of infantilizing Jimin and Jungkook because I found some of the things they do cute and adorable, I mean, they have cute moments right? (AYS for example) I still acknowledge they are grown adults and respect them as the adults they are, but now I'm questioning if these things that I'm finding cute really are babying them and I don't want to treat them like that/that way, so i wanted to know if you wouldn't mind sharing your thoughts on this?

Hi anon, how are you? Happy New Year!

Oh, this is an interesting question.

I think what’s happening in the case you’re describing is that the people saying that to you don’t really understand what “infantilisation” means.

Infantilisation happens when we treat or perceive someone as if they lack the maturity or ability to be a responsible adult, regardless of their actual actions. For example, if someone dismisses their ability to act, their opinions, or their choices by labelling them as "childish" or incapable, that’s infantilisation.

A fandom example is when people think they have the right to decide for X members whether they should stay with the agency, collaborate with certain artists, or interact with certain members. It happens when someone undermines a member’s decision-making ability, treating them like a child who doesn’t know what’s best for them. It’s not about finding them cute or endearing – it’s about treating them as though they can’t differentiate between right and wrong or make their own choices about what to say or do. That’s the kind of infantilisation many of us criticise in fandoms and, honestly, on the internet in general when it comes to fans of public figures.

In your case, what you’re describing sounds more like appreciation for their natural charm and personality rather than denial of their maturity. In Korean culture, there’s something called aegyo, which is basically acting cute – almost like a small child being adorable. It’s a big part of Korean entertainment, not just in K-pop, and BTS is known for doing it too. Sometimes it’s their personality shining through, and other times it’s part of their persona. You can usually tell the difference depending on the context.

So finding someone’s actions endearing without dismissing their adulthood is perfectly fine. For example, enjoying how Jimin and Jungkook interacted during AYS (or their playful dynamics in general) doesn’t mean you’re erasing their adulthood. They were often super cute during the show, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. That’s not infantilisation – that’s you finding their actions adorable or cute.

Before Jin and Hobi were discharged, I wondered if that side of them would change – if they’d stop being these cheekily adorable and sometimes mischievous people for their fans. But it hasn’t. From what we’ve seen, they’re the same as they were before, just with a year or two more life experience. That’s it. We don’t know if they’ve changed in private, but honestly, that’s none of our business.

Jungkook’s December Wlive was a perfect example of my point. He behaved just as he always has in his lives, especially over the past few years, and more than a few fans called him cute and silly or said they just wanted to squish him because he brings out those emotions in his fans. That doesn’t mean we think he’s a child – some people do, and that is infantilisation – but most of us simply find him endearing at times.

The misunderstanding of terms or labels also reminds me of how some people in the fandom label anyone who happens to see a member in public, take a picture, or mention it as a sasaeng. Or how some even describe certain fansites as sasaengs. A sasaeng is an obsessive fan who invades a celebrity’s personal life and privacy; in this case, is someone going to extreme lengths to follow or interact with idols. A fan spotting a member in public and taking a picture or just mentioning seeing them in X place isn’t being a sasaeng. This behaviour of misunderstanding terms or labels is not new.

I don’t know what’s going on lately, whether it’s newer fans or something else, but I’ve seen people on social media trying to police things that really don’t need policing or making others feel bad for things that are pretty standard in fandoms like this. For example – and I think this wasn’t specifically our fandom but a K-pop stan in general – someone tweeted criticising people who collect photocards. Like, why? Why should anyone feel bad or embarrassed about collecting photocards? Collecting is one of the most normal hobbies ever. Some people collect photocards, others collect toy cars, and some even collect women! (That last one should honestly be a crime, but that’s another conversation.) Why is it okay for men to collect photocards of sports players, sorry, I mean “sports cards” but not for people to collect photocards of artists? The double standards in society are wild.

Anon, I think it’s amazing that you’re so self-aware that you’re checking in with others to see if your behaviour might be problematic. That says a lot about the kind of person you are. In this case, I don’t think you have anything to worry about – but the people who told you that definitely do.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[catras-breakup-song]

it’s already annoying enough that they still, in 2025, 4.5 years after the fifth season ended, run blogs almost solely dedicated to hating on a cartoon since they can’t find a better hobby, but what really bothers me at this point is how they have to make their superiority complex everyone else’s problem and go out of their way to bully & harass stans over their posts under the guise of “debunking arguments” (which, even if that is true, debates aren’t always inherently invited and dragging someone into them by assuming “existence of post = open discussion” when they aren’t interested may violate a boundary), usually indirectly so that we don’t know and won’t respond to it.

glimmadora shippers (who are catradora antis, nothing wrong with just liking the ship itself!) are definitely the most frequently guilty, thinking of 1-2 blog usernames in particular here, and they largely overlap with the first group in your list — many of them tend to also be lumity fans (again, so am i, i have the owl house showrunner’s art of them as my main blog’s icon; that alone is not the issue) and compare it to catradora because if it’s not perfect fluff then it’s apparently not acceptable to portray in (animated) media. it’s rather ironic because they are so loud about being against toxic behavior + obsession with people minding their own business, but have no problem actively engaging with these things online in order to make sure others know they hold the wrong opinion over pixels + lines on a screen.

the ones that have really surprised me though, are hordak & shadow weaver stans. it’s a cheap excuse to accuse them of ableism* & misogyny & lesbophobia (and trust me, i also hate pointing fingers at baseless bigotry when it doesn’t apply tot the situation), yet abusive characters in this show are clearly fine to enjoy just as long as they’re not catra, which therefore implies… exactly those ideas. they hide behind a façade of caring about ableism via entrapta’s writing** and the end scene of 4x01 when catra holds hordak’s crystal over his head to bribe him, but either they’re very biased and cherrypick who deserves protection from discriminatory beliefs based on a subjective “perfect victim” status in the fandom, or they’re simply weaponizing those criticism arguments in order to silence opposing voices among the discourse regarding catra’s redemption arc getting more attention, since she’s a main character, than the cardboard cutout big-bad villain, who wasn’t supposed to have anywhere near as much development or sympathy given from the beginning. i roll my eyes when they complain about how season five catered to her so much, especially instead of hordak, because the show has literally always been primarily about catradora and the best friends squad by extension; hordak was nothing more than a tool for the narrative. that means you got what you came for, so you can either stay mad or leave ─ i highly suggest the latter for everyone else's sake.

i’ve been collecting receipts of the latter group that you can check through all the various reblogs (it’s not a neat consecutive thread unfortunately, sorry) in the notes here, just because it’s difficult for me to believe those takes are actually real if i can’t prove it to even just myself, lol lmao.

another thing i’d like to mention is that i’ve seen antis mention biphobia coming from she-ra stans a few times now, and as a bisexual activist who is unapologetic about calling that crap out without any respect for the perpetrator, the funny thing is… this is pretty much the only fandom where it hasn’t occurred that much in my experience, let alone to such an unbearable level — mind you, i’ve been here since june 2020 (not on this account, but wherever SPOP existed on the internet). it’s always been much more prevalent in arcane spaces, hell even the owl house with three prominent bisexual characters and only one canon lesbian is filled with far too much erasure & policing regarding our identity. also no one ever cares about bringing up bisexuals unless it’s to hate on us somehow, so i always find a sudden uptick in concern from monos that can be essentially read as a “gotcha” or otherwise supporting detail rather than its own thoughtful discussion to be deceitful and i tend to be quite wary of it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

*ableism in this case comes from catra’s heavy BPD-coding, which i can speak on as i also have it — or at least share most of its symptoms consistently, which has been overall agreed upon by my psychiatrist.

**that’s not to say how entrapta being autistic was handled, especially in 5x02, isn’t problematic, especially considering i’m autistic too and that has rightfully made our community uncomfortable, generally speaking. i just don’t trust authentic critique with genuine love for the character or even basic respect for this piece of media as a whole to come from that crowd specifically.

i'm losing my mind how are there STILL ACTIVE CATRA HATE BLOGS it's been FOUR YEARS how are you still this mad about a female abuse victim!!!!!! how do you STILL not get it!!!!!!!!!!

I have been in enough fandoms to understand that some of the people who stick around the longest are those who act the most scarred after watching the media. It's like stockholme syndrome. Or it's like hating the thing is what gives them drive in the world.

I have also been on the other side of this. I remained a Homestuck blog for a whole four years after the ending made me depressed about Terezi Pyrope, even lasting an additional year and a half after the dogshit epilogues released, through to the demise of Hiveswap and Homestuck^2, before I realised enough was enough and let Adventure Time give me sanctuary again.

But Homestuck had its Gamzee fans who hated the comic and fandom, Adventure Time had its Lemongrab fans who hated the show and fandom, and it seems She-ra has its fair share of antis.

The She-ra antis consist of the following groups, from my observation:

Former fans who got obsessed with some other show and have to bash She-ra because it ain't cool anymore. Usually Owl House fans but can be from anywhere. Their hate is universally connected to propping something else up, and is never done in isolation.

Hordak fans who hate Catra and maybe every other character and crew member and the show. There are a lot of the reverse, Catra fans who hate Hordak, which is part of why this group is so persistent, as a "counter" to this Hordak hate. However, the Catra fans who are Hordak antis MOSTLY do not hate the show (they are just... out of touch with it and generally have bad takes). I've seen one or two extreme cases of Catra apologists accusing Adora, Scorpia, and even Entrapta of abuse, but they were completely alone in their feelings. The Hordak fans who hate Catra tend to also hate Glimmer, Mermista, Adora, Bow, and say that the show is ableist or whatever, but they do not actually harbor much love for Entrapta. Her victimisation is an excuse for their behaviour and they have no understanding of her chaotic character. Do not interact.

Glimmadora fans (the ones who purely seem to exist to make 'Spop Is Abusive' posts). Why the fuck Glimmadora fans hate the show so much, I do not understand. But these are probably the most In-Your-Face of these three groups. While the Hordak fans mentioned above have a lot of similarity to Homestuck Gamzee fans or Adventure Time Lemongrab fans in the weird way they'll hate on the show for doing their blorbo wrong, Glimmadora fans don't have that evidence because they don't really care about Glimmer or Adora. They have absolutely nothing to say about the show, other than that it is Bad. My theory on these Glimmadora fans is that they really liked the Glimmer and Adora ship on a superficial level, and then the show decided to have its Deeper Themes and give Catra and Adora a messy, complicated relationship. There was a lot happening after season 3 where people went "CATRADORA IS REALLY ABUSIVE AND CATRA IS HORRIBLE AND YOU SHOULDNT SHIP HER WITH ANYONE". This period was SO fucking harmful to the fandom that it never recovered, so much work was lost and deleted from AO3. People would say "Glimmadora is a much better ship anyway". But then when season 4 rolled around and, uhh, Glimmer was acting like a little shit all season (for good reason but she really fucked things up with Adora), and Glimmadora crumbled into ash? Well the Glimmadora truthists felt like the show was working against them and that Season 5 was a grand conspiracy to make the Abusive ship Catradora canon!!! The funniest part of this is I sympathise a lot with these feelings. I used to be a Glimmadora truther myself when I watched the show in fall 2021. I was like, "wow, look how nice this ship is. And they go with catradora in the end?? Fucking HOW???". But then seasons 4 and 5 happened and.... yeah, I was disappointed with how Glimmer and Adora's friendship ended up, but I was ENAMORED by the messiness of Catra's character and how raw her and Adora felt about each other even in spite of all the bullshit. I never made excuses about the show being abuse apologising. I analysed it purely in how believable the relationships were and what the intentions of the characters are.

Of these groups, the ones responsible for the most actual SPOP Anti blogs are undoubtedly the Glimmadoras. The only time I've seen something similar, so many antis appearing, was because of Steven Universe ship wars. You have NO IDEA how petty people feel about Lapidot, Amedot, all the dots, all the amethysts. A crew member was chased off the internet over it, or left the internet over the show's own decisions, depending on whether you believe the """screenshots""" that were taken of Zuke's ""private blog""".

[rivalswrites]

Hello :3 How would Rivals characters react to their s/o being famous and appearing in ads and stuff (you choose which characters :3) I love your writing and cant wait for more😼

Them and you being famous!

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Tysmm! I don't think you guys get how much it means to me when you guys tell me you guys like my writing (I imagine it's the same with other writers?)

I'm feeling the burn out due to school being back in session, but we prevail!! Who's excited for season 1?

Masterlist

She loves it, and is absolutely your number one supporter! Definitely the type to never skip anything you're in online- even if it's an ad for something she's so not interested in. And she's one hundred percent got some sort of merchandise of you, like a cut out magazine that's hung up on her wall with little hearts around your face.

Ever the supporter, she loves coming on set and watching you work. Be it a photoshoot, ad, or film of some sort, she's always there to support and cheer you on (she has definitely got in trouble from the people in charge for being a little loud).

Definitely a bragger, telling anyone who'll listen (poor tippy-toe) about her amazingly beautiful partner that's world famous (in her heart). Can't help but gush over you, it's almost natural at this point to her. Anyone who knows her, knows you and has seen at least one film you're in.

When the day is over and you get home, she's ready to help you relax! She's got a nice warm bath already run, a warm towel ready when you're done, and warm cuddles and movies while you both eat whatever junk you want (to hell with your manager and supposedly “needed” diet).

Overall: She is so supportive, and no matter what it is will be there to cheer you on and help wherever she can!

Fame isn't something huge to him- rather it's not something he pays much attention to. Status doesn't do much for his opinions to people, but that doesn't mean he won't look at your career.

He definitely has a magazine or poster of you in his main office somewhere, even if it seems a little inappropriate for a king to seem like such a fanboy. His sister will not let this go, and most certainly teases him about it.

Even though he's a busy man, he always makes time for you. He'll go to red carpets with you if that's something you do, he'll sit down and watch movies you star in during his free time. He'll even go out of his way to watch a dumb laundry ad you make a two second appearance in, because he loves you so.

While he works hard, he knows you work just as hard as he does- and he respects that. At the end of the day, the two of you will sit and relax with a nice dinner, cuddling up after in silence. He'll probably be reading a book while you do whatever you want- as long as you stay by his side until bedtime. Sometimes he'll stray from the pages and to your face and he'll think to himself- yeah, they're gorgeous, the world was right to make you famous.

Overall: He'll support your career from the sidelines, as much as he can. He loves you, and while he's busy, he makes time to see you bloom like a beautiful flower.

||•STRICTLY PLATONIC•||

She's totally freaking out when she finds out!! Like oh my gosh, her best friend/found family is famous? She knew she recognized you from somewhere, it was totally from that one movie you did! It's one of her favorites, you know.

All the time she'll ask you what it's like being famous like that, like yeah she is too but not like you are! Always asking questions about how the filming process of movies and even ads go.

Absolutely overjoyed when you invite her to join you on a photoshoot set, like omg yes she wants to see you strike some poses! She'll even try and copy you behind all the cameras and crew men, the smile on your face in those photos are definitely real. One time you asked her to join her for a photo and she basically popped like a balloon, she was so honored. (And yes, she reacted the same way when she saw those pictures were actually used in a promotion or magazine.)

Overall: She is so so supportive!! You're someone she looks up to and definitely has merchandise of you and posters up in her room.

He's used to it- fame. He's famous himself, why should he care if you are too? The mentality definitely isn't the best, but give him time- relationships are difficult for him. He'll get there eventually.

Has, and will always, go to red carpets with you- whether he got the invitation or you. And he only makes sure you two are in the best clothes money can buy (and he's got plenty to spare). The two of you are always the best dressed and most elegant people at the function.

All of your films or shows are on his watch list, and he watches them while he works. He's got an AI system that keeps track of any news about you (films, photoshoots, etc.) and notifies him about anything new. He's obsessed with you!

He definitely points you out in any type of media no matter where you are, and probably sends you a picture of it. Everyone around him is so tired of him pointing at a screen and yelling about his partner.

Will absolutely pay paparazzi to take pictures of you so he can keep them for himself - is that weird? Yes, but you probably do the same…

Overall: Loves your career and always keeps track of everything you do. Always supportive about whatever it is you do. Definitely the Internets otp.

Oh my god, yes! She gets you, and you get her!! The two of you definitely have each other's merch and often wear shirts with each other's face on it (paparazzi can't get enough of that).

Collaborations are always on the table, no matter what it may be. Photoshoots? Tell her what the theme is! Movie? She'd love a cameo! Want to do a collab song with her? It'll be the most cheesy romance song ever!

Your managers are so goddamn tired of you two asking for some sort of collaboration that they don't even check anymore- do whatever you want.

The Internet loves the two of you! Fan edits of you guys are insanely popular, especially when you guys do interviews together. Fan art and shitty fanfiction is extremely popular too, and it's adorable.

After long hours at work, the two of you sit on the couch in the most comfortable jammies you have and eat anything you want! Watching some god forsaken show with a horrible love triangle plot.

Overall: It's great, having someone by her side who knows how she feels about being famous. She loves hanging out with you, be it for work or at home.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN R.R AU (CHAPTER 2)

word count: 2.2k

"I'm sorry we had to meet this way, Miss Heyman." my future boss started with this. He is a pretty tall man with no hair and a lot of beard. People know him as Triple H or "The Game" but right now he is the CEO of WWE, replacing his problematic father in law, Vince McMahon.

Yes, I was studying the whole day and night yesterday. I knew some stuff from uncle but it's literally common sense. I have always respected the work he is doing in WWE but my interest wasn't that deep. Now it had to become deep since I want to appear as well-educated as much as possible. I don't wanna be perceived as a spoiled, dumb-blonde nepo niece.

"Me too, Mr. Levesque but see, this is how life is." I said with empathetic tone.

"I don't know what Paul has told you about the payment but you are gonna get paid depending on your performances - you do good numbers, you get a good check. Your uncle is a very well-known and respected figure in this business and I am not sure how the crowd is going to react to all of this" what a great way to explain that I will have a salary only if I do my job right.

What a shocker.

"Don't worry, Mr. Levesque. I see where you are coming from. In this male-dominated industry, it's rare to see a female talker " I chuckled but this isn't the end.

"I know that my uncle is one of a kind but I am going to specify that he insisted me to do this job and if he didn't think I was suitable for it, he would have never said it in the first place, let alone persuade me to leave my current job. Therefore, I'm really confident about all of this. Sure, the WWE fans have a very fixed and nostalgic tendencies but I think they are going to get used to this short-term novelty." I spoke with pure confidence in my voice and body language.

My boss was left speechless. I get these reactions a lot honestly. When people see me, especially men, they have no idea how I can shush them just in a few seconds...or minutes. Depends on the monologue I'm going to drop on them.

"I uh appreciate the confidence, Miss Heyman. I hope you like it here and who knows, maybe you can become a full-time employee" Paul reached his arm for a shake and I shook his hand.

"Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Levesque and can't promise anything about the last part" I chuckled.

"Just call me Hunter. We are not that formal in here". He gave me a faint smile.

"Noted". I nodded my head and someone knocked on the door.

"That must be him" my boss stated. "Come in" he yelled.

Our eyes were at the door and there he is.

The Tribal Chief as he is called. The Head of the Table. His tall and stoic build radiates so much power and dominance. That's an enormous man right there. Well, he is The Rock's cousin, so I get it. It's in the genes.

He was wearing a black Nike hoodie and black Nike shorts combined with black Nike sneakers. Is this man a Nike ambassador? What's next? Nike boxers?

Let's not go there, Sophia.

Roman had his dark brown hair in a bun but it was not very slick, his hair looks fluffy and he had this pretty thick salt and pepper beard.

Yup, such an uncle. An athletic one, though.

"Roman, you are just on time." the boss greeted him.

Roman's eyes were all on me looking at me from head to toe. There was a nuance of disbelief in his eyes mixed with a smirk on his mouth.

How do I interpret this?

"This is gonna be my Wise Woman? Pf." Something like this is going through his mind.

The Samoan man was walking to us. Of course, he has that confident "Look at me, I'm the toughest of them all" gait. And he has the right to, yes. That man and his whole bloodline have achieved so much in this business which is worth of respect.

"Meet your temporary Wise Woman". Hunter said with a state tone.

"So you are Sophia." Roman flashed his 24-carat-white-pearl smile. "Paul just told me a lot about you."

"And you are the Tribal Chief my uncle never shuts up about" I replied and he chuckled. I haven't even started yet.

...

"Funny, your uncle has never told me Barbie was his niece. If you are looking for a Ken, this ain't the place for you." ah, we started with the "witty comments", took him long enough.

"Thank you for the concern, Mr. Reigns but finding a Ken is not in my top priorities right now."

"I see, I see. You are all about business, right?" he asked and slightly furrowed his eyebrows.

"Correct". I nodded my head. And there was this awkward silence.

He started showing me around the building and finally we went to his locker room. "This is our little place where me and your uncle like to scheme" Roman said with a smile on his face.

"Woah. It's pretty spacious." that's all what I managed to say.

When I heard about the locker room thing, I didn't imagine it to look like this. This place looks...neat. Well maybe my views about wrestling are stereotypical but in my mind there was a very small, messy place with the heavy smell of sweat.

This locker room is like an apartment. There are a few black leather couches and armchairs, fridges which are probably full of energy, sugar free drinks or whatever athletes drink, maybe even some food. The walls were painted in dark blue like the brand of the show Roman is in - Smackdown. There was also a big TV on the wall where he probably watches the other matches and stuff.

It's cozy, not gonna lie.

"The best room is for the champ" he said quietly but with that cocky tone and winked at me.

I didn't know how to react. I just nodded and smiled.

"Have you ever slept here?" I asked out of nowhere.

"Hell no. When we travel with the private bus, we usually sleep there since it's like a big apartment and when we use the private jet, we head off immediately." oh, so he has private everything I see.

How much does that man make?

"Sometimes your uncle is in a mood of seeing around the place we have to stay at. He knows the good stuff" Roman sighed. "I'm gonna miss him. Hope he recovers soon."

"He will. He is in good hands. My auntie is gonna take after him." I said trying not to burst out laughing. Yes, in fact, my cousins said she is really going to take after uncle and I'm sure he wants to die right now cause he was damn ready to call a hot babysitter chick and he would have gotten better in a blink of an eye or at least he would claim so.

"What? Your auntie? As in his ex-wife? Miranda?" Roman was as confused as me. Uncle has enlightened him, 100%. I nodded my head and Roman started laughing. He has a very cute laugh actually, not as deep as his voice.

It's strange seeing an enormous man like him, perceived as tough and scary, laughing like a little kid.

"Then there is no place for concern. He is gonna be back before we even realize it." he wiped the little tear that formed in his eye.

I wonder if he's married. He might be. I don't know but I am not going to ask him, that's for sure.

"I think that uncle is exaggerating. Auntie Miranda is not that bad". I tried to defend her but Roman gave me the look of "oh, you don't know anything".

"Clearly, Paul has never told you the spicy details". This line alone made me think of how does my ex, Robert, paint me out in front of his friends.

I didn't realize I completely zoned out until I saw Roman's big hand waving in front of my face.

"Is everything alright?" he asked with a tiny bit of concern in his face. Very tiny bit.

"Yes. I would like to ask about my schedule, by the way" he made a sign for me to sit on the black leather couch.

"Would you like some coffee, tea, energy drink or why not wine or champagne?" he asked while going to the fridge.

"Thought athletes didn't drink alcohol." I raised my eyebrow.

"Sometimes we need it, sweetie." he slightly chuckled and opened the fridge.

"Water would be okay, thank you, Mr. Reigns." I heard him chuckling while reaching for the water bottle.

"Nah, don't Mr. me. Just call me Roman...or Joe." he came to me and handed me the water bottle, looking at me dead in the eye.

"Which one do you prefer?" I asked with a little smirk.

"Anything works for me." he shrugged and I thanked him for the water. "My Tribal Chief works the best, though." he said innocently and I laughed.

"Yeah, no" I shook my head with a fake smile on my face. "The Tribal Chief stuff is only for camera. I'm not crazy like my uncle" I just got flashbacks from yesterday how he started talking about his Tribal Chief stuff. A fatal 4-way match at the Royal Rumble and Wrestlemania 40.

"There's no way he said this" His whole face is smiling when he laughs, his eyes almost go away. It's adorable, not going to lie.

"He so did" I sighed.

"Paul takes his job very, very seriously and if we're being real there would be no Tribal Chief without him. He made me think of ways that elevated me and my bloodline to a whole new level" Roman suddenly started speaking on a serious note. I am so glad to hear that so many people appreciate my uncle but nothing will ever beat the things he has done for me.

"That's why he is my favorite man ever" I sighed.

I saw Roman reaching out to the cupboard and taking a list from there.

"So here's the schedule." he handed me the paper and Lord, when I saw this, I almost passed out.

"That many appearances? How many promos I have to prepare?" my eyes almost popped out after seeing everything.

"It's Wrestlemania season, baby. It's tough out here." he stroked his gold shiny belt which was over the cupboard.

"Can I hold it?" I said looking at that magnificent championship which was literally dripping in ice.

"Sure. You better get ready to hold it a lot." I stood up and he handed it to me. I put it over my shoulder exactly like uncle does and not gonna lie, I feel powerful.

"Whoa. That's a bit heavier than I imagined." I spoke frankly.

"It looks good on you." Roman complimented me. "Look at yourself." he pointed at the mirror at the other side of the room. It was really looking good on my pleated light brown dress.

"May I wrap it around me?" I asked with enthusiasm.

"Let me do it for you." he took the belt and wrapped it around my waist.

My eyes were glued to the mirror.

He got a bit closer to me and his muscle figure completely towering over me and I am with heels. I can't imagine if I'm not. His masculine cologne hit my nostrills just right.

"You smell so good." he suddenly said and caught me a bit off guard.

"Thank you." I managed to say.

"Your waist is so little." he remarked as he chuckled softly and glued the belt. It really looks very big on me.

"Are you working out?" he asked.

"I do pilates." I replied and turned to him. He had that impressed expression on his face while I was expecting him to criticize me or be skeptical.

"Great. It does a great work." he stated as he was glancing at my body and I furrowed my eyebrows. "I mean in getting in shape." why does he look nervous?

If I don't say something soon, he will probably turn red.

"Well, it can't beat yours." I chuckled slightly. "You probably train for like 8 hours a day or something."

"Sometimes it's 8, it depends. But usually is like 3 or 4." my jaw was on the floor.

"Crazy. I might die if I have to do a workout of yours." I shook my head accepting my fate.

"I can figure something out for you. We can train together sometime." Roman suggested.

"We'll see if I will ever prepare for that...physically and mentally." I gave an uncertain answer.

"Come on. You can make me do some pilates and you make me do weights. I think I'd be a fun hang out."

Hang out.

"Probably." I squinted my eyes trying to visualise this and I couldn't help but imagine him doing some pilates exercises and I couldn't help but laugh. I put my hand on my mouth.

"What did you just envision, young lady?" Roman seemed confused.

"Nothing." I lied. "I just...remembered something funny."

He gave me that look of suspicion, obviously not trusting what I'm saying and I just laughed again.

[write-it-like-disaster]

I wouldn’t say that I’m old exactly, but I will say that I’m probably quite a bit older than the average tumblr user, so my fan fiction experience is a bit different.

I come from a time (“it’s been 84 years…”) when there was very little LGBTQIA+ representation in media, and the characters that were around tended to be minor, with limited background and development (I sure did love Maggie Doyle, though. Can I get an ‘amen’?). The gayest thing on TV up through my high school years was probably Will & Grace and Tara and Willow from Buffy.

Like, seriously, that was it. The L Word didn’t even come out til my second year of college. And it wasn’t until after the Clexa debacle that media eased up on the ‘bury your gays’ trope and we finally started to get lasting, fully developed queer characters.

So, what I’m saying is, is that for a very very long time queer folk especially had to create their own content, based off of subtext and lots of imagination. And even then, there wasn’t an amazing database to go to, to pull up whatever pairing for whatever show you wanted. It took some digging. I remember logging on to the AOL (dial up mind you) and somehow stumbling across a Spice Girls vampire AU fic on someone’s personal website when I was in middle school and just being COMPLETELY OBSESSED with it, scouring the internet for Buffy/Faith and Maggie Doyle fanfic, consuming everything I could find. And this made me feel normal and not so alone, because I knew there were other people out there reading this stuff too.

I wrote fanfic when I was in high school, but never even considered sharing it, too afraid I’d be found out somehow by people in real life but also because I didn’t think my writing was good enough for others to read. I couldn’t even fathom that anyone would want to read my gay little stories (though I have to say, several of them were probably better than some of the stuff I’ve written as an adult). And then I just stopped. Life got busy and fanfic just wasn’t an outlet that I had time for.

I didn’t start to consistently read or write fanfic again til a couple of years ago (so that’s a 20+ year gap, yikes) but it’s been awesome to have that sense of community and belonging again. And this time around I felt comfortable enough to actually share my work with others, it’s been so nice, especially hearing that something I wrote resonated with a reader or gave them goosebumps or just impacted them in some way. I never thought my writing would be able to do that!

So, knowing how much it can mean to an author and how much work goes into writing a fic, I always try to leave positive comments on works I read and like. I guess because I don’t take it for granted, having all these amazing stories at my fingertips, and I’m incredibly grateful.

What does fanfiction mean to you?

I'm asking this question because today I came across some ugly, mean-spirited, catty behavior towards a fic author that I haven't seen in a very, very long time, and I think it's important we discuss it as a community.

Y'all know how long I've been doing this? Fanfiction, that is.

Eighteen years.

I've posted across different platforms, on different handles, in different ways for a long, long time. More than half of my life at this point, from fourteen years old.

Fanfiction is how I personally engage with fandom the most. It's THE most important thing to me, frankly, because it is the common thread between each and every single fandom I have ever participated in.

It's self-expression to me. Folk art. Collaborative and fun. I truly hope that most people who engage in fanfiction learn what it is to beta for someone even if you don't write yourself. It can be a fantastic experience in and of itself. Being the backboard to someone else's ideas, watching as they take genuine joy out of spinning a story together to put onto the page, seeing it come to life before anyone else and feeling almost as proud as the author themselves after they finally post it.

It's ultimately why I decided to make this post far more positive and productive than the angry, grumpy, blood boiling rant that I initially was churning over in my mind after the horrible posts I saw earlier.

I'll detail them here purely for context because I think it's important to recognize toxic fandom behavior when we see it. And speak out when we stumble across it.

The first post lauded itself as an 'honest review' of a popular fanfiction in a community I am a part of. That honest review was nothing more than a pop-critique filled with a sort of catty, snarky write up that is so popular nowadays online purely to gain clout more than to act as actual, constructive criticism. It was unnecessary and acted as though the fanfiction author was a professional, New York Times Bestseller rather than someone devoting hours of their free time and effort into a hobby that is ultimately meant to be fun and pleasant.

The second post by the same person claimed that their friend had challenged them to write their own version of the premise of this fanfiction under a read more cut. It spent some time applying a thin veneer of so-called respect to the original author, but was merely nothing more than contempt really. I simply fail to see the need to ever do this while publicly attaching an author's name and work title and arrogantly parade your own work as superior to their own. Why tear down someone else?

I pushed back against them directly on this post, they took it down, but not before childishly trying to excuse their actions and claiming that 'if someone is publicly posting, then they should be able to handle vocal criticism.'

But you know what? One, what that person was doing was not constructive criticism. I think back to the beta session I had with a friend right after this incident and I think to myself, how sad must it be that this is what this person thinks is valuable criticism. That this is the way they chose to engage with the fanfiction community and thought they were in the right to do so.

Two, and perhaps even more importantly, people are accountable for the things that they post. The things that they say. It would have cost this person nothing to never make those posts in the first place. To never risk an author coming across a mean-spirited and malicious teardown of the work they put hours into and risk harming their self-esteem, mental health, or confidence in their own writing.

Because we do not know who these people are behind their handles. We do not know if they're new to writing. If they are experienced but going through a tough time. There are real people who write the content you choose to consume.

Fanfiction is a collaborative process. Writers provide the free content, and it is the reader's responsibility to know when their input would be valuable.

Is what you have to say helpful? Is it kind? Is it necessary?

If the feedback you want to provide does not hit at least two of those things, what you have to say does not matter. Period.

And I daresay that in the vast majority of cases, kindness should be considered mandatory out of the three.

In return, writers will often throw in ideas they've read out of reviews, they'll reach out to their most ardent followers for things like beta-ing or joining a discord server nowadays. There's always been a give and take in this community.

Fanfiction is a cornerstone of fandom for a reason. And it is particularly important in the queer community, going all the way back to actual physical magazines in which people mailed in their KirkxSpock fic decades ago. Over time we've experimented on the process, moved to countless different platforms, survived collapses of all sorts of communities, only to rally over and over again around each other to be able to tell the tales we wanted to see but were not getting as queer folk amongst mainstream media.

And in that time, it's been long agreed on in this space that you do not tear down another writer to build yourself up. Ever. Period. This has long been the only thing in fanfiction that has been aggressively policed, called out, and nipped in the bud when experienced members of this community come across it.

It will not be tolerated.

I shouldn't have to make this post, but I suppose this is the changing of the guard, so to speak. We have a new generation of fic writers and readers coming into the space daily and while so many of you are wonderful, creative, and welcomed members of this space that has been here long before me or anyone of my age, there are some who do not know how to act in the fanfiction community.

And it is up to us to make it clear in no uncertain terms that they will need to either get with program or be pushed out.

To become the best version of yourself as a writer requires hours of work, of posting again and again, of experimentation, of putting hints of your own life and experiences onto the page. The vast majority of us will never be published, and that's just fine for most of us. We engage in this hobby because of how joyful it can be to write something dear to our hearts, share it with the world, and be validated that others enjoyed the work that we put in.

Frankly, readers will always owe it to us to respect that process and work. To be respectful and kind when interacting with authors. Constructive criticism can be welcomed but perhaps ask if the author is open to it and do not take it personally if they are not. And if they are, then learn how to give it with the writer's best interest in mind rather than your own ego.

I don't ordinarily request reblogs to my posts, I rant into the void and it doesn't matter to me if anyone really interacts on an ordinary day lol. But today, I want to ask that people share this message out in your fandoms, because I will be tagging it in the fandoms I interacted in, both past and present. Because fanfiction is a common thread that unites so many of us, and I think this is an important reminder on how we need to be respectful and kind to one another in this space.

If you feel comfortable, I would also love to hear how fanfiction is important to you. How you got into it. Why you love to either read, write, or beta it.

This is hobby that is meant to be fun, so let's have fun.

[janemilo]

ngl i kinda ate when instead of sitting w My sorrows as usual i got A second job alongside my existing full time Job nd got my money Up………,