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hencheri · 2 months ago

Text

love, H

18+ mdni.

pairing: stalker!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: stalking, yandere elements (i hate saying that), heeseung's a freak, noncon/dubcon, knife play, fear play & chase kink ig.

wc: 2.2k

It’s cold. Freezing cold. The night air has you clutching to your arms in an attempt to heat yourself up, but the breeze hitting you in the face, flowing through your hair and into the collar of your coat, makes it impossible to feel any type of warmth.

You should have brought a scarf, you knew you should have right when you stepped foot outside this morning, but you didn’t. And now you’re sure you’re going to freeze to death before reaching your front door.

But at the sight of someone in particular, your heartbeat quickens in seconds, pumping blood so rapidly you feel it pounding against your chest. You don’t feel cold anymore.

A man you can’t name, but who has been following you and watching you for weeks — probably months at this point. You look back at him, halting your steps, his body standing a few feet away from you just outside your workplace like he’s been waiting for you for a while.

You don’t see his eyes, don’t see his face — never did you, and you might not discover it very soon either — a black hoodie draped over his head as it is often the case.

He gets away from the wall he was leaning on when you walk away in the direction of your house. You check a few times behind your shoulder, seeing him following you closely in such a casual manner it reminds you how often you experienced this exact same situation before with the exact same person. Your faceless stalker.

You live a few blocks away, and turning corner after corner, noticing he hasn’t disappeared, you start to really freak out. He usually doesn’t follow you until there, you’ve always supposed he was too scared in case he could get spotted by your neighbours, but this fear doesn’t seem to stop him at this moment.

You fasten the pace of your steps, quicker and quicker until you’re actually running, the only sounds you hear being your boots hitting the pavement and the rapid breaths you take, accompanied, of course, by his own footsteps chasing after you.

Your eyes well up in tears as you tighten your hold around the straps of your shoulder bag, taking a look behind you and being horrified to see his dark silhouette still behind you, determined and eager to catch you. You let out a sob, one that rips up through your throat, heartbeat now pounding in your skull, making your ears ring loudly.

You’re breathless, scared and desperate, a spark of hope lighting in you at the view of your house. You’re almost there, come on. Your stomach hurts as well as the soles of your feet, but you keep going, running because your life depends on it. He’s never expressed the want to kill you, but he’s expressed many other things that made the hair on your arms rise up, and thinking back to it, you don’t want to discover what’s going to happen if he gets his hands on you.

The letters he leaves you… they all ended up in the trash, until one day where he threatened in his letter to enter your house during your sleep if you got rid of this one, too. They’re now stacked up in the last drawer of your vanity, still in their original envelope.

You could recite each one of them and exactly what they’re talking about. The subject always the same, but told in a different way; you. Only you.

You find yourself rereading them sometimes, usually when a new one comes in. He leaves them in your mailbox, but it happens you fall upon one on your nightstand coming back from work, or, the weirdest, in your underwear drawer, exactly in the spot where one of your panties is missing.

He’s not subtle about it, he admits it pretty buntly, in fact. He tells you which pair he took exactly, the last one he described as the ‘cute baby pink panties with a white heart pattern and small bow on the front’ and he also says what he does with it, a part that always leaves you in shock and weirdly turned on.

He tells you when he gets inside your house, what he touches, what he likes, what he keeps. His words are kind and surprisingly caring, but when you do something he doesn’t appreciate, like throwing his letters in the trash for example, his tone changes completely. This double side of him is what scares you the most because you truly never know the extent of what he’s capable of.

He talks about his fantasies, whether they’re explicit or not, you don’t know what to expect when opening his letters. He admits his desire to have you, possess you, his carnal need to make love to you as he so calls it, but anything he describes is the opposite of making love.

You think he doesn’t really know the difference between love and obsession, but you’d be fooled with how skilled he is with words. Everything sounds poetic, when in reality, the meaning of his words are far from beautiful. They’re deranged and don’t make sense either. You can’t pretend to love someone you say you’d chop in little pieces if they throw away your unsolicited love letters.

He always signs with H, that’s pretty much all you know of him, and you don’t even know if his name really begins with the letter H. You don’t know if he’s someone from your daily life or a stranger you’ve never met. You know nothing, but he knows everything, every little detail of your intimacy…

He’s aware of that power he has over you. He could have had you way back before, but he didn’t. He wants you to be familiar with him, wants to make its way into your life without even revealing himself. He wants you to know you’re eventually going to be his and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Like tonight, there’s nothing you can do to stop him.

He has the way to your house, he can get inside whenever he wants. If he decides to catch you tonight, he will, and with the chasing that’s happening right now, you think the time has come. You’ll be his, finally.

But you’ll have to give up on running before he even touches you.

You cross your front yard, clumsily climbing up the stairs to the entrance door. You slip your hand into your pocket and pull out your keys, hurriedly trying to insert it into the lock. You know he’s behind, you hear him, and you think you’ve never been so frightened in your life before.

You turn the key and then the handle, pushing your door open and immediately getting inside. You only realize how close he was to getting you when closing the door, he startles you by rushing into it, seeing his body watching through the transparent glass.

You lock it, shaking in fear, but relieved that you made it in. He hits the glass with his hand out of frustration, visibly upset. His head is down, so you can’t decipher any of his features, but knowing he’s angry is enough to make you scared, recalling the words he uses when he’s annoyed with your behaviour.

‘If you ever escape me, I’ll make sure you never use your legs ever again,’ followed by your name and then ‘love, H’, ending the letter.

You never knew what that meant, but now you think you do.

He stays behind your door for a minute or so, both looking back at each other, without you being able to see his eyes.

He steps away and you watch him leave, wondering where he’s going. Your senses are all enlightened, a million thoughts going through your head at the same time. You walk into your kitchen, grabbing a knife, feeling a tad bit safer now armed.

But there’s still this little voice in the back of your mind telling you the knife is useless, he’ll get you unarmed in a matter of seconds. You can lock yourself up in a room, he’ll still find a way in because he always does.

And unconsciously, you make yourself an easy prey. You like it, you anticipate it. Why did you never call the police? Why haven’t you changed the locks on your doors?

Why in the hell are you turned on to know he touches himself with your stolen panties?

From the corner of your eye, you get the glimpse of a shadow. You instantly turn around, pointing your knife in front of you, but there’s nobody in the kitchen beside you.

You walk out, looking on each side of you, being on your guard. Your face turns pale, noticing the back door half open. You gulp down.

He’s inside. Your stalker, he’ll kill you. He will tonight in your own house.

“Oh, sweetie…”

Your heart skips a beat.

You turn around again, losing all of the strength you had earlier to fight him. You step back until you hit the sliding door behind you, feeling the cold glass through your clothes. You clasp your hand tightly around the handle of the kitchen knife, but you look much more ridiculous than intimidating.

“My poor little girl, all frightened and helpless,” he chuckles, and you find back the light-hearted tone he uses in his letters. It sends shivers down your spine, your pussy throbing.

He walks toward you and you point the knife at him, “don’t get any closer!” you sob out, wanting to sound serious, but your voice breaks pathetically at the end. More tears fall down your cheeks, the previous ones now dried out on your burning skin.

You can see a smirk drawn on beautiful heart-shaped lips, and your mouth opens in shock when he pulls his hoodie off his head.

Your arm holding your knife is trembling, your eyes staring at his face. You’ve spent night after night imagining what he could look like, feeling so powerless thinking that you might never know who he is, but he’s just revealed himself to you now. And it’s nothing you ever expected to see.

He’s beautiful.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that thing?” he asks mockingly, referring to the knife that you no longer hold properly, letting your emotions get the best out of you. He approaches you despite your warning — that was nothing other than laughable. “Stab me, maybe? I know you could never.”

You watch him taking control of you in no time with tearful eyes. He takes the knife out of your grip, and the way he easily uses it against you is humiliating.

He swiftly puts the tip of the blade under your chin, forcing your head up. “I admire your tenacity, my love. I really do,” he tells you, and his voice is soft, almost too gentle. “But I thought I was clear on that; you’re mine. You can’t run away from me.”

You try to hold back your cries, keeping your mouth closed and looking away from his face, but the tears still roll down your cheeks, drawing a wet trail from your eyes to your jaw.

“Look at me,” he suddenly growls, pressing the blade harder under your chin, but not enough to cut you. You reluctantly do what he said, your eyes meeting his. “There you go,” he coos, “I know you dreamt of this exact moment. You’re a little freak who likes the attention of deranged guys like me. You’re no secret to me, baby.”

Your bottom lip trembles, no words coming out of you. What possibly can you say? You’re not stupid enough to think you can change his mind.

And maybe a part of you really waited for this moment to happen. For him to catch you.

You gasp when he tears through the front of your shirt with the knife, tilting your head downward to see your chest exposed, goosebumps all over your skin.

“So pretty. I always wanted to see them from up close,” he moans, dragging the knife between your naked breasts, going over your heaving stomach down to the band of your leggings. He lowers them with his other hand, pushing them all the way down to your ankles.

He tears through your panties as well, leaving you with nothing covering your private parts and you can’t feel more embarrassed.

The blade of the knife stays just under your belly button as his eyes stare at your uncovered pussy, wetting his lips with his tongue. He’s in love, to say the least.

“Fuck that shit.” He throws the knife away on the floor and with both hands free, he unzips his pants and takes his hard cock out.

He aligns his leaking tip with your entrance, feeling how wet you already are.

“N-No, don’t, please!” You cry out, holding his shoulders, but doing no attempt in pushing him away.

Just as he pushes himself into you, he glances up at your face, looking totally blissed out. His mouth hungs open, staring back into your eyes as he thrusts up all in the way in, making you moan out in pain.

“Stop lying to yourself, baby,” he groans, “we both know you love it.”

#i finally did it #praise the gods #tw noncon #tw stalking #— ☆ starring enhypen #w/ heeseung !#enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enha x reader

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2pndr · 2 months ago

Text

Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form.

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid.

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask. We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character.

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to. Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter.

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar.

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together.

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl.

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you.

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point.

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

“Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second.

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread.

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence.

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

[FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell.

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place.

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty.

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance.

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation.

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there.

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen.

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table.

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words.

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.”

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now.

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip.

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air.

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes.

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar?

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding.

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod.

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck.

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first.

“ I’ll have the…”

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire.

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had. Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you.

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

“Please. Call me Minjeong.”

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to.

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly. Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way.

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions—you came up short.

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into.

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable.

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it.

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way.

“Make sure to call me, okay?”

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you. Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern. Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled.

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

#winter fluff #aespa fluff #minjeong fluff #minjeong x reader #winter x male reader #winter x reader #winter x you #winter #aespa winter #kim minjeong

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natalchartnurtures · 8 months ago

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PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now

This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-

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pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.

Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?

While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.

If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.

I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.

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Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.

I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!

I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.

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Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.

Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.

Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Colorless. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.

-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-

You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.

Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

750 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago

Text

Ghostbuster. || kidnapper!Simon "Ghost" Riley

[ FIC MASTERLIST ] || [ CHAPTER 2 -> ]

Rating: M + Dark Fic + DDNE Words: 4.2k~ Pairing: Serial Killer!Reader x Serial Kidnapper!Ghost CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dark fic, serial killing, serial kidnapping, torture, body disposal, death, murder (purposeful), murder (accidental), mentions of rape? (neither Simon nor reader rapes anyone!!!!!), blood, knife/weapons, gross abandoned buildings, police verbage. tags: dark fic, serial killer AU, no smut (for now), OOC Simon, you/your pronouns, afab!reader, reader & simon terrorizing the city of Manchester, Manchester geography/accuracy?. a/n: fully inspired by the post below, by @moongreenlight ; also fully a gift for @superhero-landing

"This marks the 7th body found in the Greater Manchester area in the last 6 months."

It's dark outside. Eerily so. Probably because, although the moon is high in the sky, full and bright, plenty of clouds hide it from view. The weather forecast speaks of heavy rains for the next few weeks, but you got lucky... It's not currently raining. It leaves the night feeling weirdly still and quiet, the roads long empty after people retreated into their homes after work.

But not you. Never you.

You turn your head to peer at the old box TV in the room over your shoulder, your eyes narrowed in on the screen where the news anchor talks about the police investigation at hand.

"The victim, a 24-year-old university student, residing in Wythenshawe, had been reported missing last month, on the 18th, after having not come home after a nightout with friends."

The old shop is dark too, barely illuminated by a camping lantern you've brought inside when you first broke in. The air is stale, almost unbreathable from all the dust; the floor, and counters caked in a layer of dried particles, courtesy of the decades' long abandonment the shop has suffered, as well as the ceiling panels having come loose, knocking down concrete dust all over the shop.

Shaking your head, you carefully click your tongue in displeasure, while you clean the tool in your hand with a rag, keeping your eyes and ears still honed into the broadcast. "Poor thing." You comment to yourself.

Your head slumps forward to reach your arm, and you rub the underside of your nose with the back of your hand and forearm, sniffling a bit to clean some of the snot dribbling down your nostrils due to the overly dusty air.

"The Great Manchester Police HQ has issued a warning on the brutality of the recent string of murders and their commitment to find the people responsible. The Police Chief urges that anyone who might have any information to please come forth."

Sighing, you turn your head away again, as the news anchor drones on about the funeral for the young girl who was just found. You step away toward the array of tools displayed, for your convenience, on one of the old counters, laid neatly across a black tool roll bag and carefully set the knife atop it.

The shop smells. It's not entirely unpleasant, but you've gotten used to it either way. You're pretty sure if you weren't, it'd smell horrendous, like it did in the beginning. Stale, dusty air, old blood caked into the gashes and knife cuts on the wooden countertops, tools that were abandoned and grew colonies of bacteria after enough time went past, old vent systems that haven't been cleaned, meat display cases that didn't get disinfected before the butcher shop went out of business.

Tossing the rag aside, atop the butcher's block countertop, you run a finger over the wristband of your black cooking gloves, the latex feeling sticky and damp due to the fresh blood caked onto it. Turning on your heel, you return to the center of the room and look down at the body slumped on the chair before you.

"That guy is a fucking sicko, isn't he?" You complain and crouch before the man tied to the chair, raising his bruised and bloodied face by gripping him around the chin.

The man before you looks like the rest of them, balding and with a 5-o'clock shadow of a beard. He was greying as well, as most of them tend to be. Old, perverted bastards... He's slowly paling before your eyes, the blood slipping down his abdomen, soaking through his clothes and flowing onto the drain below his rickety chair.

"You know, you've gotta be a particularly... Nasty bastard to kill women that young... To bathe and redress them post-mortem..." You trail off. The man before you doesn't reply. He looks groggy and languid, blinking irregularly, and his chest heaving. Barely aware of anything as his life, much like his blood, drains from him.

It's almost poetic to watch his blood stain the white tile of the backroom of the shop, the walls lined with racks and hooks meant to, in the past, hang carcasses from... Almost like this old cooler room is finally fulfilling its role again, to cool and drain a dead body of its blood, all of it flowing down the incline toward the drain...

"I believe I saw in a few Criminal Minds episodes that those types that... clean them afterward feel 'regret' for what they did." You shake your head and kiss your teeth in annoyance.

"They feel regret after it's done, but not while they do it. 'es it mean they gain a conscience after the fact?" You ask him. "Monsters, the lot of them..." You chide and scoff, letting go of the man's face.

Then, you smirk as you notice his breathing get shallower, his head going a bit more limp, hanging low, his chin pressing over to his chest. Leaning forward, you bring your mouth close to his ear, your lips almost grazing his ear. "Don't worry, I won't clean you up once I'm done."

Sitting in your dark bedroom, you lounge back lazily on your desk chair, chewing some bubblegum and tapping away at your mouse before scrolling down a forum page.

The room, much like the rest of your flat is dark, only illuminated by the bright blue-toned light emanating from your computer screen, even in dark mode.

The best part of the internet age is the fact people share, comment and gossip about everything. It makes your research so much easier. Though, you suppose it's human nature... to be curious and gossipy. Social creatures and such.

Clicking on one of the posts on the subreddit r/ManchesterCrime, you skim through the post, where the OP is mentioning how they live nearby to the location where the new body was dumped: the southside of Manley Park.

Grabbing your pink fuzzy-top pen and a couple of highlighter markers, you get up from your desk chair and lean over your desk to the corkboard hanging behind it.

You take your writing materials to the printed map of the Greater Manchester area which you had pinned to the cork slab, tracing the information you have so far:

Resident of Wythenshawe.

Captured somewhere between The Three Pigeons and home.

Dumped in Manley Park.

You set down your pens and grab some pink wool string and a couple more pins, using them to rig up a new line to connect the dots over the map.

Taking a step back, you look up at the map and sighed, shaking your head, feeling anger flowing through your veins.

You have been trying to figure out the killer's area of operation for months... Trying to triangulate it, find a pattern...

But nothing.

No convergence point for the lines; no silly little connect-the-dots shape being formed; no secret message being shared... Or maybe there is and you just suck at reading it.

So far, all you have is 7 pieces of string of different colors... 7 victims. All over Manchester, with no overlay.

Just... 7 young girls taken for weeks at a time, killed and then dumped like rubbish.

Has he been taking them to different secondary locations all over the city before slaughtering them?

Has he been driving about, passing by schools and homes and banks and shops, on his way to the dump sites... with a body in his car?

Allegedly, they were all bathed and redressed, with no signs of sexual trauma or abuse, other than a stark loss of weight and some rope burn around the wrists and ankles...

But who really knows?

You are no PI or constable, just a sleuth. Whatever information you have, you got from the internet and from the news... You have no way to be sure of anything.

It angers you to imagine what he had been doing to those poor girls while keeping them to himself.

The poor, terrified girls... someone's sister, someone's daughter, someone's girlfriend, someone's friend... And he had been plucking them from their mundane, safe lives and murdering them?

Throwing yourself back down onto your chair, you stack your fingers together, elbows on the armrests, and swiveled side to side as you looked at the corkboard map.

You hate men like this.

Predators.

Taking and hurting and killing with no issue or hesitation... Sure, psychologists might allege that he feels regret and expresses it by caring for them after death... But you disagree with that interpretation.

You've never met a man who regrets hurting a woman.

It's almost funny how easy it was to play with a man's emotions.

They see a pretty face marred by running mascara and red, swollen tear-filled eyes, holding a thumb out for a ride on the side of the road, and they always stop.

From then on, you can just spin whatever sob story about needing a ride...

Men love to play the hero... and oh, how idiotic they are.

They always let you in, and within an hour you have a new warm body to tie up and toy with.

In a way, you are actually surprised by how long you've been able to get away with this for.

You're secretly thankful your murders have not been given any attention so far.

You suppose that's one thing you could thank that... killer for.

You hate how the internet had given him a name already:

The Ghost

because someone allegedly witnessed him dumping a body in Heaton Park, and then vanished into the shadows of the night like a spectre.

Don't they know what happens when they give these types killers nicknames?

How that embiggens and emboldens them?

Have they never watched a true crime show? Or even a fictional one?

But... regardless... as long as young women are being slaughtered by a maniacal monster of a man, and, therefore, kept in the eyes of the world... No one is going to notice the missing middle-aged men you'd been consistently murdering for the better part of 3 years.

Yet another way where men have the upper hand over women. Lady killers just don't get taken as seriously.

You think of that as you watch the body disappear under the water, the cinder blocks you had tied to his feet dragging him under.

You wait a few minutes after his bald head vanishes from view, making sure it doesn't re-emerge, your hands tucked into the pockets of your parka, dead leaves crushed under your hiking boots.

Another body; the 8th one.

This one got dumped much quicker.

A 26-year-old till clerk at a Tesco had been reported missing only 36 hours before her body got found.

The news spoke about the incident and the GMPHQ deemed it a separate occurrence. An accident. The girl had been a Type 1 diabetic and seemed to have had a fatal sugar crash.

But you know it has to have been 'The Ghost'.

You don't know why. But you can just tell.

And, for the first time, as you draw up the line over the map, to signal where she got picked up and where she got dumped... there's an overlay.

The pick-up site, somewhere between her job, and her home... and the dumpsite.. Alexandra Park, near Oldham. Both those locations were mere minutes away from where the second victim had been picked up months ago.

Has he gotten sloppy?

Has her sudden death thrown a wrench in his plans and caused him to panic and pick somewhere nearby?

Your eyebrows twitch and a smirk takes over your lips as you finally find something you can exploit.

"Got you, you fuckin' knob'ead." You say and can't help the proud chuckle that escapes your mouth.

Simon's pissed off.

He feels like shit after having gotten that girl killed on his watch.

Not that he hadn't gotten the other ones killed either, but this one had truly been an accident.

Between the stress and the fear, her blood sugar had dropped and Simon hadn't noticed before he left the house to pop to the shops and get them both some food.

And by the time he got back and made her dinner, she was just... gone.

It startled him.

Startled him more than when the other ones died.

While looking in her purse for a justification as to why she passed... like any medication he failed to give her, he found the insulin pen and the sugar monitor.

So now, here he is. Back on the street. Back on the prowl. With 8 accidental kills under his belt and a desperate need to fix his streak.

He drives aimlessly. It's a Saturday night and Simon was sure he was going to find some young, vulnerable girl wandering about and stumbling over her own feet, too drunk or high to even walk in a straight line without stumbling or having to lean on street lamps and walls for support.

He hates seeing girls in that state. Young, vulnerable, alone... Left to be preyed upon by some creep in the shadows... Their support systems having failed them...

What kind of friend leaves a drunk girl to find her way home alone when she can barely stand?

What kind of manager lets an employee walk home after dark?

What kind of parent, or sibling, lets a girl walk home from the bus terminal during a storm?

And then they wonder why girls get raped or murdered senselessly by dirty bastards in back alleys.

That only happens because no one protects these vulnerable girls.

They protect them as children, but not as adults? What kind of world does such a thing?

Probably the same world that misinterprets his actions as senseless killing.

He's not a killer.

He's... just very bad at taking care of the girls he... 'helps'...

He never means to hurt them. He's no monster. He just wants to protect them.

For once it's actually raining. Heavily so. The water has soaked through the slinky mini skirt and spaghetti strap top you're wearing, your heels are open-toed and slippery, and each step you take feels like you're about to fall face-first into the mud.

You've had your arm out-stretched and your thumb up for the better part of an hour, trying to flag down any car driving past, only to get no luck.

You're at your wits' end, and so so close to calling it a night and trying to stop baiting a driver into taking you in. It's that bad tonight. You can't seem to reel anything in.

The cold wind nips at the exposed skin on your arms and legs, and you know well you'll spend the next week in bed with the nastiest cold of your life.

A car zooms past you as you walk and show your thumb, only to groan and protest when it doesn't stop...

But it does slow down to a stop not far ahead of you, having turned on its blinkers after spotting your outstretched arm and thumb up.

Rushing over to it, you stumble a few times and trip and slip with your heels on the wet tar of the road, before you come up to the passenger side door.

Look in the window, you find a young-ish looking bloke behind the wheel, looking at you with concerned eyes and knitted brows. He leans over and pops the door open for you.

"Get in, get in!" He tells you urgently when he notices you shivering like a wet dog in the rain.

Climbing inside the car carefully, you close the door behind you, hearing how the rain and wind turn muffled once you do.

It's surprisingly clean inside, the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror smelling of pine. It's also warm, so warm, the heater running at max temp and making the car so much more cosy.

"Oh my God, thank you so much for stopping!" You whine, forcing yourself to sniffle and hiccup as tears pour down your face. They're fake ones, warranted by you watching a handful of soldier-coming-home videos on youtube and using some menthol-infused stick in your undereye.

"You alright, sweet'eart?" The man asks as he looks at you with worried eyes. "Are you all alone out here?" He asks and glances out of the window.

He's younger than most of the men you usually bait out, but he'll do. He's also... more handsome than most of them too. Long, prominent nose, a long jaw and chin, pouty pink lips, and the biggest brown eyes, not to mention a crew cut worth of blonde hair.

"Yeah..." You sniffle. "My boyfriend he... we were coming back from a birthday party and we... he... we were arguing and he tossed me out of the car and... and...!" You explain. The practiced lie slips through your teeth quickly. It's been used on about 7 of the 20 or so men you've wiped off the map, and you say it as if you truly believe it, which helps sell it.

You also stumble over your words, as if you're starting to choke up, to make sure you sound even more distraught. Men love when you're hyperventilating.

"Alright, it's alright-!" He tries to reassure you and sets a hand on your shoulder. "God, you're freezing. How long have you been out there?" He asks you, concerned.

"I- I don't know! An hour?" You answer with a whine, your lip quivering as more sobs rack your body.

Your eyes are sharp, though. You're noting his every movement. How he quickly pulls away from the backrest of his seat and shrugs off his coat and wraps it around your bare shoulders. "Here. It's alright. You're alright."

You continue softly sniffling, tucking your legs to the side toward the door, while hiding your face in your hand.

"Where can I take you?" The blond man asks gently as he glances at you and slowly leans closer, resting an arm on the steering wheel, the other on the centre console.

"I don't... I don't know..." You whine and sniffle. "I can't... I can't go home... I can't face him right now..." You trail off. "I can't believe he'd toss me out of the car like that...!"

"Well, I'm sorry to say, love, but he sounds like a right knob'ead." He says and carefully pats you on the shoulder. "How about I take you to the bus terminal? Or the station?"

"I don't know...!" You whimper. "He took my things with him... I can't even buy a ticket home to my mum..." You hiccup and try to clean the tears off the corner of your eyes.

He's handsome, he speaks calmly, hasn't tried to touch you longer than simply patting you for reassurance, and even gave you his jacket... You almost feel bad about doing this to him. Almost.

"Tell you wha'." The bloke says as he leans a bit closer, tilting his head to look at you in the eye. "I'll take you to the bus terminal and give you a couple more pounds so you can call your family or a friend to come get you, yeah?"

Sniffling, you shake your head. "No... you're already... doing so much! I can't... I can't even pay you back!" You add.

You really should earn an Oscar for this performance. The damsel in distress who's actually such a good girl that she doesn't want to impose on this man's money or take too much of his help.

"Don't worry about any of that." He tells you and waves his hand to dismiss the point, before leaning over and fixing the direction of the air vents on the dash, making sure they point at you to keep you warm. "You don't have to pay me back, alright?"

Nodding a bit, you try to stop crying and rub your eyes with your hands, causing an even bigger mess within your make-up, your fingers now also stained with mascara.

"Here. It's alright. No need to cry anymore." The driver says affectionately as he offers you a tissue from a pack, before he shifts in his seat and starts driving forward.

Simon watches you out of the corner of his eye as he drives. Poor little thing, all alone, abandoned by her boyfriend, left on the side of the road...

It's like the universe had handed you to him on a silver platter. He couldn't not take you in! And, this time, he's not going to let anything happen to you.

He's not risking it.

And so of course he's going to soothe you, to calm you down, you, the poor little thing, that got left on a side road by your awful boyfriend, like a stray cat no one wants to feed...

That's the thought in his head as he drives down the wet roads, the windshield wipers working overtime to beat the pouring rain that decided to attack the city of Manchester even more aggressively than usual.

Simon glances at you out of the corner of his eye every few minutes, making sure to drive carefully and steadily, and trying to spot the look in your face as he does.

You still seem stressed, frazzled, worried. The tears haven't stopped despite your breathing having settled...

He wonders if you've had anything to drink. You're definitely not drunk, but the amount of tears... maybe tipsy?

Maybe you won't even need to be threatened. You'll just... let him take you into his house, gently guide you into the bathroom and let you wash off the mud and rain...

He'll give you clothes, and food, and let you watch tv with him... And he'll keep you warm and safe, like everyone in your life has failed to, that got you to the moment you were now in...

Alone.

Afraid.

Abandoned.

He wants to tell you not to worry, that he's here now... But he holds his tongue. You'll hear it later.

"You should've kept going forward instead of turning right..." You say aloud, forcing your voice to still sound soft and meek, as you look out of the window.

You've been driving for a while. You've kept your head low, enjoying the warmth coming from the A/C, which helps with the genuine cold wetness of the rain that settled on your skin and bones.

You're not stupid. You know the way to the bus terminal and to all the train stations in the area...

He's not taking you to either. In fact, you're pretty sure you've taken 3 rights in the last 5 minutes, and are, in short, going back the way you came.

"Sorry. It's easy to get turned around with this rain, I'll go back to the main road." He replies. His tone apologetic, and his brow scrunched in concern... But his eyes... his eyes are hard.

It sends a tingle down your spine. For once, you actually baited out a man that has nasty intentions with you.

Had he not tried to do that, you would've considered letting him live... But no, of course, he's actually a creep...

What a shame... He's actually kind of cute. In a blue collar sort of way.

It gives you some weird sense of satisfaction, the realization in the back of your mind that you might have succeeded... that you might have bated him out... The Ghost.

Your hand carefully slips into the left side of the waistband of your slinky skirt, the side closest to the door, so he can't see, your fingers already wrapping around the handle of your pistol.

Your eyes remain on the street, the road, keeping an eye out as he returns to the main road and goes back over the area he has just driven past. A closed down shop, the post office...

And you wait.

You wait patiently for the next time he tries to turn right and put you back on course toward the area you had triangulated for The Ghost to live in or work out of...

And he does. He does just that.

Within a minute, he turns right again...

And you don't hesitate.

Your fingers tighten around the pistol handle and you rip it off the confines of your skirt, your arm hurling itself toward him, steadily pressing the barrel to his temple...

Only for you to notice his arm moving sharply at the same time and, you're suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun as well.

His eyes are wide, his brown irises nearly invisible from how wide his pupils are blown and he stops the car suddenly with a hard brake that jostles you both forward.

Looking each other in the eye, over the top of both your pistols, you can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

The look of surprise, confusion and pure dread painted in his features, the way his brows knit together and furrow in displeasure, his lips already twisted into a scowl...

It's a sickly sweet pleasure, to spot the way that, just like the other ones, he's scared of your pistol... It's likely his first time... But an unfamiliar warmth forms in your tummy as you stare down his pistol too... It's also your first time...

"Well, well, well... Would you look at that?" You quip as a smirk takes over your lips. "Looks like I've busted myself a Ghost."

You don't miss the way his brows go from concerned and fearful to dropping low onto his eyelids, and his jaw clenches in disgust.

Got him.

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lady-ashfade · 9 months ago

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Sorrow Flowers

Yan!Class 1A x Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Hanahaki disease is hard in all cases. But when you have a group of people in love with you it becomes a bigger problem, since you must love another…

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short blurb, hanahaki disease, angst, yandere behavior, blood and kinda gory.

dark circles appear under your eyes rather quickly, and in training you seemed to be weaker then normal. at first they thought you were becoming sick with the flu or over working yourself. the class babied you all of the time and made sure to do what they thought was best.

and slowly you came down with a nasty cough. they were so worried and even took you to Recovery Girl to get better. she couldn’t find anything wrong with you- she didn’t know what to test and look for so you went undiagnosed.

clinging to your throat you fell in training and tried to breath and cough up whatever was coming up. your body was sweating and panicking from the pain and lack of air you had. Aizawa was the first one at your side with the others rushing as well.

“Come on, kid.” his hand slapped the back of your back to try and help you breathe. iida was already on his way to get recovery girl. your class mates look in horror, some of them already crying and screaming for you.

blood…

blood splatter onto the floor from your lips and something rolled along with it. you gasped for air as the some blood dripped from down your chin. tears rolled down your eyes. everyone looked down to the thing on the ground, something was blocking your pipes. and what they saw was nothing they thought they had to worry about. a black flower covered in blood, some clots too.

you had hanahaki disease.

the disease for unrequited loved. you loved someone else that wasn’t them. since every one of them was obsessed over you, worship the ground you walked on, wanted nothing more then to have you. that means you didn’t love any of them…and someone undeserving.

the gazes of everyone in the room darkened to black and red. someone had made you this way. you could have died and if it isn’t fixed they could lose you anyway. and that person need to pay. your teacher took you into his arms and carried you to the infirmary to get you some rest and medicine to help, while the others stayed behind to figure everything out.

“this is why I told you idiots to keep a closer eye on them, this is all your faults.” katsuki yelled while pushing pasted them to go and found anyone he could. honestly, after he found the person responsible he might take care of his class mates too because they are equally responsible.

“if you weren’t such a asshole they might have stayed with us! It’s not our fault,” Mina shouted and huffed out.

“whatever it takes we’ll make them better. but for now,” Izuku mumbled with his quirk activated on his own and his body shocks green.

“we need to take care of the disgrace of a person responsible.”

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Haven’t written something finished in a long time, so this probably sucks. I have been in a big writes block.

#yandere class 1 a #yandere imagines #yandere class 1 a x reader #yandere class 1a #yandere class 1a scenarios #yandere class 1a x reader #yandere tenya iida #yandere Mina ashido #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere Bakugo #yandere shota Aizawa #yandere izuku midoriya x reader #yandere x reader #short blurb #tw yandere

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wcters · 9 months ago

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𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 750+

summary: you have your period and chris tries to help you

warnings/notes: swearing, established relationship, periods, sorry it’s so short but that’s the only thing that i could come up with that i didn’t find cringey at that moment

A lot of the time, you hated being a women. Constantly judged on how you dress and act, creepy men, unrealistic body standards, and more. But this time? It was periods. That time every month where your body lets you know you’re not pregnant but simultaneously punishes you for not being pregnant. Every woman hates it, every little girl wants it.

Usually spending time with your boyfriend and your best friends would help a little bit, just to make you feel less of a sack of uncontrollable emotions and pain, but that wasn’t the case this time. This time, everything was bothering you. You had left the triplets to take a nap in Chris’s room as to try and stop yourself from getting mad at them and breaking down for no reason, but you’re still bothered in here. The ticking of the clock, the air from the vent, every little noise was bugging you. You groaned and grabbed the pillow besides you, throwing it over your head.

Because of the object blocking your ears, you don’t notice the footsteps leading up the the bedroom door. “Babe?” Chris called out as he opened the door, “you okay?” You hummed and stayed where you were, too lazy and tired with everything to reply. “Y/n?” “. . . I think I’m dying.” You finally spoke, pain evident in your voice. “I need to be put down.” Chris quietly laughed at that. “You don’t need to be put down.”

“I may not need to, but I want to.” Chris grabbed your hand as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong? Is your period?” You never felt embarrassed when talking about your period with him - you shouldn’t. You hated when some of your friends mentioned that their boyfriends would get grossed out when they talked about it. It’s a natural thing and it’s needed for them to live. You nodded, taking the pillow off you head and turning to face him. “I’m just so sick of it.”

“I know you are. And I would say I know it hurts but I don’t really know . . . At least not from experience.” You felt his hand brush up and down your back as you laid on your stomach. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked you, moving your hair tbh at fallen in your face. “My heating pad in the basket? Can you heat it up?” You groaned as a significantly sharp pain hit you, curling up. “Of course. Anything else?” Chris nodded. “Get rid of my uterus for me?” You looked up at him with a pleading smile. “Ask me later.”

You watched Chris as he moved to grab your heating pad and then open the door, slightly closing it but not fully as he left. While he was out, you figured you should change your pad. You did that, and stole a pair of loose boxers to put over top instead of the sweatpants you had on earlier. You were sitting up in his bed when he got back. “Are you wearing my boxers?” He asked you, placing the bag in front of you. “Yes. My sweatpants were bugging me and I was going to cry.” You grabbed your heating pad and leaned against his headboard, putting on your stomach and opening your legs. “Come here,” you patted the space between them, “I want to watch a movie.”

Chis knew better than to fight you, having dealt with you on your period many times before. It was you, but not dealing with any shit, and he didn’t want to make you cry. He took his shoes off and climbed on the bed and lied in between your legs. Before he put his head down, you put a pillow over your heating pad as to not burn him. “That’s really nice.” He commented as he lied down. “I know. That’s why I have it. Now, what do you want to watch?”

You ended up putting in a Disney movie, any other movie would probably get you upset in some way, so you both cuddled up and pressed play. When Nick knocked on Chris’s door later in the night and got no answer, he opened the door to find you two asleep with Chris in your lap. He took a quick picture and left you two alone, closing the door.

“Matt, look at this.” Nick called out to his brother that was on the couch. “What?” He was shown the picture and a smile formed. “Those two are so in love, it’s sickening.” He shook his head. “I know.”

#emma writes #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #x fem!reader #x reader #imagine

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macgyvermedical · 4 months ago

Note

I encountered a drug called "Dextromethorphan" when looking up things that react with grapefruits for a fic. I found out it's been banned in Sweden since the 90s, so I couldn't use it for this specific story, but if you've got any interesting history I'd be happy so know!

Are you ready for this? Like. Ask yourself. Are you really ready for this?

In 1954, a researcher with the US Public Health Service received $282,215 (1954 dollars) from the US Navy, ostensibly to find a non-addictive alternative to an opiate drug called codeine (used for pain and and as a cough suppressant).

So the researcher found a bunch of people who had substance abuse disorder and tested 800 substances on them, trying to find ones that couldn't cause physical or psychological dependence, even on people who were prone to that sort of thing.

(Now, you might be asking if this experiment was ethical. The USPHS was concurrently doing the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study, so while I couldn't find any concrete answer, imma guess no.)

Out of these 800 tested substances, we use 3 today: propoxyphene (used as a painkiller), diphenoxylate (used as a diarrhea medication), and dextromethophan (a cough suppressant (and, as of 2022, part of a fast-acting antidepressant)).

Importantly, it was later noted that all of these are addictive substances and today most of them require a prescription. Though depending on where you are in the world, you might just have to be over 21 and show an ID.

You might think this sounds like a pretty standard story.

You would be wrong.

Because while the US Navy was the one handing the money to the USPHS, the US Navy had come by it via the Central Intelligence Agency.

Yes. The good ol' CIA.

So what stake did the CIA have in a non-addictive codeine replacement? Nothing, it turns out. That's just what they'd told the US Navy. What they really wanted was an incapacitant- a drug that causes incapacitation like unconsciousness or continuous hallucinations- without killing. Incapacitants are also useful for discrediting prominent political figures by making them look like they have severe mental health concerns, which was another reason the CIA wanted them.

This was part of a project called MKPILOT.

And wouldn't you like to know which of the three listed above they liked the most? Dextromethorphan. Because at high doses it causes severe- and incapacitating- hallucinations (this is also why it is banned in Sweden).

The problem with it is that it requires really, really high doses (about 3 grams, which would have to be packaged in some other substrate)- this would make it difficult to slip into a drink or food.

(It should be noted that around the same time, the US Army was doing research into a much more usable incapacitant called 3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate which required as little as 150mg of the substance to be useful- it was featured in a MacGyver episode and I did a nice little review of it here. While I have no sources that say the CIA was directly involved in funding this, based on their extensive funding of similar DoD projects at the time, they probably did.)

But you wanted to know about how grapefruit interacts with dextromethorphan:

A substance in grapefruit (along with seville oranges, limes, pomelos, and possibly pomegranates) blocks the pathway by which many drugs are metabolized in the liver. This causes the levels of drug in the body to be much higher than expected. In the case of dextromethorphan in particular, it can mean that the drug stays in the body a lot longer- up to 24 hours instead of the usual 3-4 hours. It can also make side effects and toxic effects significantly worse, leading to hallucinations and sedation, even at low doses normally used for coughing.

#whump reference #writing reference #whump #dextromethorphan #medical history #DXM #grapefruit #history

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weaselle · 3 months ago

Text

Let's talk chef knives

somebody in the comments on a cooking post is talking to me about knives and i figure, why not make a whole post about it

I worked in restaurants for two decades, and that means i was mostly too poor to buy expensive knives.. but i did learn EXACTLY what i was looking for in a knife, and eventually i did spend about $150 on one.

Now, you can easily spend $500 or more on a chef knife if you are the kind of person who cares about having the chef knife equivilent of a porche or lamborghini and i don't think many of you are looking for that, so I'm going to tell you what i looked for in my really-good-but-not-too-expensive chef knife

First of all, you don't need that block set of knives you see in like every kitchen ever. You know, this thing

You don't need that. Listen, theoretically each of those knives has a specific thing it is used for, but in all the restaurants i worked at, 99.9% of the stuff i did was done with one of these

We didn't go looking for a specific kind of knife, we just used one of these -- often a bunch of those were all that was provided. I uh, i didn't work at a lot of high end restaurants. But even in the nicer ones, most of what we used was a chef's knife.

So. In my opinion, instead of spending $100-$200 on a bunch of kind of shitty knives, spend the same money on one really nice chef knife, and a wetstone or some other sharpener you feel you can use. But really, like, just look at a wetstone tutorial on youtube, it's not hard, and it will make your life better.

NOW let me tell you what i looked for in my knife

This is the knife i use. It's a six inch Zwilling Pro

if you shop around, you can probably find it for close to 100 bucks. It's not Fancy™, it's just Quite Good. You can, if you want, find a chef knife for a couple grand, and that plastic-handled one in the first pic will run you less than ten dollars, so, this is a pretty good price point, on the low side of middle, with a knife quality on the high side of middle. If you take care of this knife, it could last you your whole life

Now let's talk about specific features I was looking for. First, inb4, metal quality. Zwilling is a good company, so the quality of their actual metal is pretty decent, and that's all you really need to know -- if you're getting your knife from a known decent knife company it's probably good enough quality. In this case Zwilling uses forged high-carbon German steel, which are some good key words to look for. That's all i have to say about that.

Now there are four specific things i was looking for that led me to choose this specific knife

Depth. This refers to how far the heel of the blade juts out from the handle (the heel of the blade is the part of the blade closest to your hand). When you have the blade resting with the edge flush against the cutting board, you want there to be plenty of room for the hand gripping the handle without knocking your knuckles against the board. A classic pinch grip doesn't need much room, but that's not the only grip you'll ever use, so give yourself some decent knuckle clearance. But not TOO much. Too much and your blade will kind of feel like it wants to flop over on its side when the edge hits the board.

Length. As an edgy 20 year old in restaurant kitchens, i always went for the biggest knife i could find, but because you're going to be using your chef's knife for everything, you actually want it short enough to use as a paring knife or whatever. The shorter the blade, the more control over the tip you have. Me, i never really need anything longer than six inches. I was a little bit worried when i first got it, but i've never wound up wishing it was longer.

Weight. Even though it's just about as short as a chef's knife can be, my knife has a good amount of weight to it. A somewhat heavy blade helps with chopping, and provides a good balance for other knife skills. When you are chopping and slicing, a decent amount of weight helps a lot. It doesn't have to be heavy heavy, but when you pick it up, it should definitely feel like a chunk of steel, not like a pressed aluminum toy. Plus, some of the weight will come from thickness, and a thicker blade will stand up to more sharpening and last you longer too.

Bolster Shape

If you look at the Zwilling Pro's bolster, it has a bolster that is sort of beveled into the heel of the blade with a nice curve. Right right, what's a bolster, hold on, here's the anatomy of a knife

on this knife, you can see that where the bolster meets the blade it makes basically a right angle where it goes from thick to thin. This is distressingly common in chef knives

now look at the bolster on the Zwilling Pro

and here's a similar bolster shape from a different angle

First of all, the bolster is diagonal, which is the right shape for me to hold in a classic grip. Every chef has their own grip, but it's always a variation on pinching the blade just above the bolster, and a diagonal bevel works better for my grip.

And just as important to me, it might be hard to tell, but the metal curves from the thickness of the handle to the thinness of the blade instead of using a right angled edge to go from thick to thin. This curve sort of follows the movement your knife makes against the knuckle you use to guide the blade when you do this

I tend to use the deepest part of the heel a lot, and, depending on what i'm doing with the knife, my grip can often be nearly off the blade it's so far back, so i have a tendency to knock a straight bolster directly against my index knuckle. Just a little, but after a few dozen times in half a minute it starts to irritate my finger. A curved bolster like on the Zwilling Pro sort of glides to a stop against my guiding knuckle instead of banging into it, provides a comfortable pinch, and makes my life in the kitchen better.

That might not be true for everyone, it's just important to pay attention to how you use a knife, especially if you find yourself thinking something like "it would be better for me if this part of the knife was different in this way" or "this knife would be easier to grip if it was shaped like this instead" or "i wish the shape of this knife didn't mean this was always happening" or whatever. Could even be how your knife fits in your dishwasher, just pay attention to what works and doesn't work for you personally so you know What you're looking for. But you for sure want to look at the Depth, Weight, Length, and Shape.

So. There you have it. Some things to pay attention to when selecting a knife that may allow you to get a good knife for yourself without spending tooooo much money.

#my life #cooking #knife #knives #chef knife #chef's knife #kitchen

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hannieoftheyear · 11 months ago

Text

sexting with Mingyu pt.2

how much does a relationship (more like a 'forced to coexist' acquaintance) change after sexting? the result may shock you.

this is part 2 of my sexting au! you can check out part 1 here

✧.* genre: kim mingyu x fem reader, pwp, smut with fluff at the end, MDNI!

✧.* w.c: 6k hehe

✧.* warnings: switch mingyu, lotss of teasing, fingering, cum eating, protected penetration, he has a big dick, size kink if you squint.

✧.* note: thank you so much for the support on the first part♡ I hope you like this, and I'm sorry if there are any mistakes

Kim Mingyu: guys I told Seokminnie to come at 9😊 [15:36 pm]

Kim Mingyu: come to my place at 8 so we can arrange everything🙏

Kim Mingyu: and don’t forget to bring the stuff on the list😁

The new text from the group chat made exclusively for tonight’s surprise party lights up your screen, taking your attention away from the tv show you were watching.

You have the urge to ask why he decided the time on the same day, but you don’t. You have a feeling that things are still a little awkward, and you never talked much anyways so it would be weird.

These few days, even if you tried not to, the only thing occupying your mind was your little chat with Mingyu.

Can sexting change your view of a person? That sounds so stupid. You were never mean to him, on purpose at least, and you would always think twice before going somewhere if he was going too. But now, you find yourself a little excited at the idea of seeing him.

You have about four hours to get ready and half an hour to get to Mingyu’s place. There’s plenty of time, so you finish the episode of New Girl you were re-watching and begin to get ready.

You absolutely do not think about seeing Mingyu for the first time since your… conversation. Not during your shower, where you shave your whole body. Not while picking a cute outfit you don’t usually wear that flatters your body and shows off your boobs. And absolutely not while doing your make up, you just happen to choose a red lipstick that has been sitting collecting dust since you bought it. There’s nothing wrong with trying different things sometimes!

Looking in the mirror, you realize that maybe you went a little overboard, not enough so that your friends would think it’s on purpose, but it is definitely noticeable.

Whatever. You’ll welcome whatever attention you might get. There’s no time to change anyway. You have to leave now, or you’ll be late, so you grab your purse and go out.

You were tasked to bring the cake, so you drop by the cake shop a few blocks from your home and take a taxi afterward. It was a simple two tiered pink cake that said “Happy Birthday," but looking at it, already seated on the cab, you can’t help feeling like you’re forgetting something.

Checking the list over and over again doesn’t help. It only says “cake" and your name beside it. You’re thinking about what could possibly be so obviously necessary that no one thought to write it down. And then you remember, CANDLES! Painfully, obviously, and pretty needed for a birthday cake.

It’s too late to go back now because you’re already 2 minutes away.

It’s fine.

It’s completely fine.

You’re sure someone else might have thought about it and will bring some. Mingyu has to have candles around just in case the power goes out. Maybe in the box there’s a candle the cake shop puts just in case.

The taxi leaves you at 8 pm sharp at Mingyu’s building. You try to calm down during the elevator ride, and it’s not until you’re at the door, knocking, that you remember at whose house you’re at. And realize that it’s just a little bit too quiet inside.

Mingyu opens the door, knowing it’s you on the other side. You’re always the first one to arrive.

You know you should be more put together, but you’re left without words at the sight of him. His hair is pushed back, a little wet still. He was probably on the shower while you were on the way. His outfit is simple, black jeans and a white t-shirt, but it somehow looks amazing on him. How does someone make a plain white t-shirt look so good? It’s almost unfair to everyone else.

Too lost in thought, you don’t realize you have the same effect on him. He’s left breathless by the sight of you. He thinks you have never looked this beautiful.

A door opens at the end of the hallway, and the sound takes you both out of your trance. He’s the first one to speak.

“Hey sorry, come on in.” Mingyu says with an embarrassed tone you almost don’t catch. He moves to the side to let you through and speaks up again. “You’re first like always.”

“Yeah, they can’t be punctual at all." You’re standing awkwardly looking at the cake in your hands while he closes the door.

“Should I put this in the fridge?" Your eyes point to the cake Mingyu didn’t register before.

“Sure let me -" He tries taking it from your hands, but you back away.

“I can do it.” It comes out drier than you want to, so you look him in the eyes and show him a little smile. Even if your “friendship” didn’t change drastically in a matter of days, you don’t want to still have a rocky relationship. That seems to make him relax.

“There should be enough room.” You hear him say as you’re walking towards the kitchen.

You know his apartment like the palm of your hand by now. It seems like he’s the only one willing to have many people over at once, so the hangouts are always here.

He follows behind you and stands in the kitchen while you try to figure out the best way to store it without getting it damaged.

“Oh I should tell you I forgot the candles, I’m sorry I don’t know why I didn’t think about it but I remembered on the way here and it was too late, but I thought maybe you had some here but if not we can just ask the guys I’m sure some of them aren’t even on the way yet and-" You turn around after you place the cake on the fridge and you blurt out the apology, only to find Mingyu standing right behind you.

He's so close you can smell his cologne. The one he always uses that you secretly love and wish you could steal, but he doesn’t have to know that. His body so close to yours does not affect you. In any way.

“I bought them don’t worry.” You sigh, relieved that you didn’t ruin anything with your stupid mistake.

“Oh thank God!" You start and look at him in the eyes, “Thank you, really. I was panicking on the elevator. I thought I ruined the cake because-"

“You should be a rapper." Mingyu suddenly interrupts you.

“What?” You look at him, very confused by his statement, and he just laughs.

“You just said 50 words in like two seconds.” He adds in between laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You punch him lightly on one arm, “I was actually worried!” You really try to sound mad, but his laugh is awfully contagious and brings you to laugh with him.

“I don’t think you spoke that many words to me in years." He suddenly says, still laughing, but your smile dies slowly because you realize he’s right.

“Yeah well…” You’re looking at him directly in the eyes. His smile is still plastered on his face, a little faded but there nevertheless.

Your eyes move to the side, to not make eye contact with him as you say “Things change.”

The atmosphere shifts as fast as a heartbeat. You’re suddenly very aware of your body so close to his. Mingyu’s gaze wander to your lips a second too long before it goes back to your eyes. Slowly, he begins closing in the space between your bodies. You step back but find yourself caged in between him and the counter.

His warmth embraces you when he places an arm on your side to cage you in more. He has to crouch to look you right in the eyes. “How?” You barely register his question, his closeness making you dizzy. “What?”

“What changed?” For sure he’s trying to take a reaction out of you, and you hate that he’s succeeding. But you can have your fun too.

“You know… when you make a guy cum in his pants your relationship changes.”

He doesn’t seem affected by your response, quite the opposite, actually. He might be enjoying it, judging by the smirk forming on his mouth.

“You know damn well I did not cum in my pants”

“Didn’t you? Huh… I guess I wasn’t that impressed because I would remember otherwise.” Impressed you were. And remember you do. But you like annoying him.

He sighs, acting shocked as he puts his right hand on his chest. “How could you?” You giggle at his silliness.

But his arms are back to caging you in a millisecond. “I’ll have to make you remember then.”

You can’t resist it when your eyes drop from his eyes to his lips, suddenly calling to you like he’s got you under a spell. He seems to notice because his smirk makes a reappearance.

So slow, you barely even notice, his face comes closer by the second. It's so painfully slow he’s for sure doing it on purpose.

“And how would you do that, may I ask?” Now it’s your turn to smirk as your eyes go up back to his eyes, defying him.

His face is so close now that you can feel his breath on you. Your lips are only separated from his by bare millimeters. You’re about to tilt your chin up to connect them when someone knocks on the front door.

Mingyu drops his head as he sighs and separates from you a few inches. Your hands find their way to his chest and push him back a little to draw his attention.

“You should probably get that.” His head goes back up at your words and gives you a disappointed look.

His gaze goes down to your lips. “I don’t want to.” You smile at his reaction. You don’t really want it either, but more people are going to start showing up, so you need to get going. The person outside knocks again, and you push him one more time, a little harder this time, so he gives you space to leave his arm prison.

“Go! I’ll start putting up decorations.”

He gives up and let’s his arms go from the counter, but you don’t move. You watch his form as he turns around and walks to the door.

You were always amazed at how tall he was, his broad shoulders and strong back that somehow ended in a tiny waist. Somehow, what he was wearing today accentuated all of that.

The door opens, and you hear Mingyu welcoming whoever was outside.

The night goes as smoothly as it could have. When Seokmin arrives, everyone shouts happy birthday, and he looks genuinely surprised. But then you all find out he actually knew because Soonyoung accidentally told him yesterday. Wonderful evening.

After all the singing and shouting, someone you can’t see puts music, and the drinks start rolling in. You had no idea there was that much alcohol at the party to make like 15 people drunk, but you’re not complaining.

It's already 4am when you start feeling the effects of alcohol leave your body.

You’ve been sitting on the couch watching Wonwoo destroy everyone at Mario Kart. You don’t dare to try to play against him, so you just sat back to laugh.

Everyone eventually grows bored of the game. Some go back to their homes, but you and a few others stay to hang out.

Mingyu, on the other hand, started tidying up when people started leaving. He doesn’t mind people staying over, but he prefers cleaning now, so he doesn’t have to do it when he wakes up. He’s still listening to the conversation, though, throwing in a few comments here and there or laughing.

When he finally finishes it’s a little over 4:30 am. There’s no room on the couch, and he doesn’t want to sit on the floor, so he stands against the wall facing the group.

You’re sprawled out on the couch, resting your legs on top of Vernon’s who’s sitting at the other end. The guys are debating about… something. You stopped understanding a while ago. You just laugh when someone says something funny.

It’s when Mingyu comments about something Wonwoo said that you notice he finished with whatever he was doing, standing there in his full glory. Your eyes can’t seem to move away from him, and you don’t resist it either. His hair is now messy, and he's sweating a little bit. He catches you staring and raises his eyebrows. You shrug in response.

The chatter becomes background noise as you two play a staring game. You don’t dare move your eyes off of him, and he doesn’t either. After a few minutes, you motion a “What?” With your mouth.

He grabs his phone without breaking eye contact, but ultimately does to unlock it and starts texting someone. You realize that someone is you when his gaze is back at you, and your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

No one is paying attention to you. The guys are still debating, maybe about something else now, so you grab your phone without getting noticed. The only person who notices is Vernon because you move your legs off of him, but he doesn’t even glance at you, just re positions himself.

Kim Mingyu: so how long are you staying? [4:33 am]

You look up at Mingyu with an incredulous look, and he just motions for you to reply.

You: wow no emojis this time

Kim Mingyu: I’m being serious😔

When you look at him he’s actually making the same face as the emoji. Cute.

You: for how long am I welcomed? [4:34 am]

Kim Mingyu: you can stay however long you please

You: I was thinking I might leave when the guys leave

You: but they seem to have a lot of energy today

Kim Mingyu: I can tell them to leave [4:35 am]

You: you want me to leave that badly?

Kim Mingyu: I want you to stay.

Kim Mingyu: but I don’t want them to be here

You giggle at his response. That definitely draws attention to you because Seungkwan asks “Who’s got you giggling like that?”

“No one.” You rush to reply, and hope no one sees your eyes dart to Mingyu before adding “You don’t know him.”

The interest dies soon enough, but you know Seungkwan will ask you again later.

Your eyes find their way back to Mingyu’s to find him already looking at you, waiting for you to text him again. You raise your eyebrows at him before going back to your phone.

You: don’t be mean they’re your friends! [4:37 am]

Kim Mingyu: when I’m done with you you’ll thank me

You: done with me?🤔

Kim Mingyu: you’ll see…

Kim Mingyu: do you want to stay? [4:38 am]

You: only if you make me breakfast in the morning

You: I hear you’re a really good cook

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he starts subtly kicking everyone out, saying stuff like “hey guys it’s getting late," and “you’re all gonna be wrecked tomorrow."

Someone jokes “that’s him politely asking us to get the fuck out", and everyone laughs as they start picking up their stuff.

You also start grabbing your stuff and cleaning around you, although slower than everyone else.

It’s around 5 am. when the last few start heading out the door. You get asked how you’re leaving. You lie and say you called an Uber, and you’ll just wait here for it.

You’re back on the couch as Mingyu closes the door after the last person leaves, awkwardly sitting while waiting for him.

Butterflies show up on your stomach when Mingyu appears in the hallway, walking straight to you with a smile on his face.

The atmosphere feels awkward as he sits beside you. You want to say something, but your mind is blank. There’s really only one thing you can think about.

Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but you get up and sit on his lap, one leg on each side of his hips.

“So what’s with all that talk earlier?” Your hands position themselves on his shoulders almost like they’re meant to be there.

Mingyu’s shocked for a second before he focuses his eyes on your lips and licks his.

“C-Can we talk about what h-happened the other day first?” He mentally kicks himself for stuttering. But his words contradict his actions. His hands are around your waist keeping you in place, and his eyes don’t leave your lips, like he’s on a trance.

“What happened was…” You grab the side of his face and get close to his ear to whisper “You got horny because of me, and I helped you.” Slowly, you go back so you can see his blushed face. “Is that right?”

But blushing doesn’t prevent Mingyu from teasing you too. “Acting like you weren’t practically begging for me huh?” His hands slowly travel from your waist to your thighs.

“Says the one who actually begged to cum.” You try your luck and grind softly against his growing bulge and he squeezes your thighs, closing his eyes lightly.

“You liked it.”

“I did, yeah." Now your hands are on his very firm chest. Mingyu sighs as you grind on him again, a little harder this time. Your faces are so close you feel his breath fanning over you, and you can’t resist your eyes when they focus on his parted lips.

When he opens his eyes again there’s only one thing on his mind, the thing that has been plaguing him since you arrived so many hours ago.

“Can I kiss you?” Mingyu says softly, almost in a whisper.

“I thought you wanted to talk?” You grind on him, hard enough to feel his already hard bulge, and you feel how your panties get ruined by your arousal.

“You’re funny.”

“I get that a lot.” Mingyu’s hands go back to your waist to make you grind on him again, setting a pace that’s not fast but hard enough to create more friction between your cores.

Electricity flows between your bodies. You wrap your arms around Mingyu’s neck, your faces barely millimeters apart. His lips are still parted, just like yours, releasing little sighs that almost make your lips barely touch.

“Please.” He pleas in a whisper, and you swear a million butterflies explode in your stomach. You can’t resist it anymore. You can't resist him.

You connect your lips with his, and Mingyu reacts instinctively. He wraps his arms around your waist, almost as if to keep you from getting away. As if you ever would.

The feeling of his lips against yours is addictive. He’s kissing you like he wants to erase any trace of anyone who has ever kissed you, making your lips his, so needy and hungry for more.

He thrusts up, making you moan in his mouth, and takes the opportunity to meet his tongue with yours, deepening the kiss and making you more addicted to him. If that’s even possible.

Mingyu’s hands start roaming your body, traveling from your waist to your thighs, and then up to your neck. Your skin burns everywhere he touches, and you want more. You want to feel him everywhere all at once.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt. You lift it up just a little so you can touch his abs without fabric in the way. You feel him smile against your lips at your touch.

He breaks the kiss, and you chase after his lips. When you open your eyes, you find him smirking at you. His lips are swollen, and he’s stained red all around because of your lipstick. You figure you look the same. “Eager are we?"

“Yes very in fact.” You grab the hem of his shirt again and push it up. “Take this off.”

He obliges, but not before laughing softly at your eagerness. You follow his moves and also remove your tiny top. You can’t move your eyes away from his bare chest, and your hands immediately touch him, but he stops you.

“This too.” His hands sneak behind your back to unclasp your bra.

As soon as the bra is off, you push yourself against him and kiss him again. His hands are quickly on your tits, thumbs going in circles around your nipples.

“Ah! You’re making me crazy.” You manage to say almost in a moan.

The clothes in your lower bodies soon begin to annoy the both of you, and the friction is no longer enough.

Reluctantly, you get up, and now it’s his time to chase after your lips.

Mingyu understands immediately and also gets up. You remove your shorts while he gets rid of his jeans, and in no time, you're sitting on top of him again. Only your underwear in between you now.

You trace kisses down his neck, leaving marks, so that he has a reminder of you for a few days. His now fully hard dick presses against your clit just right. Your panties are so soaked they’re beginning to stain Mingyu’s boxers too.

He kisses you hard to quiet down both of your moans, as his hands sneaks down to your core and his fingers start stroking your pussy through your panties.

“You’re so wet already.”

“That’s because you’ve been teasing me for like 20 minutes.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” You roll your eyes playfully. “But if you don’t actually touch me in the next five seconds I’m going to lose my mind.”

He chuckles, and you think he’s about to kiss you again, but you’re starting to learn that Mingyu is a man full of surprises.

In a swift move, he turns your body around, your back now against his chest, and spreads your legs wide. One hand sneaks under your panties while the other plays with one of your boobs.

You quickly turn into a moaning mess as he starts circling around your clit and pinches your nipple. But it’s not enough. “Mingyuu.” It comes out more whiny than you’d like, but right now that’s the least of your worries.

“Tell me.” His finger slows down but also presses harder. You squirm under him, and he kisses your neck softly. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“I-I need your fingers.” Your words barely get out.

“But I am touching you” He feigns confusion. His fingers stroke from your hole to your clit, collecting your arousal and spreading it.

“Inside.” You grind on his fingers in hope of getting more friction, but he slips his hand away from you. You see his fingers glisten with arousal and feel a new wave gushing out of you. “Please.”

You don’t see, but rather feel Mingyu smile against your neck. “Whatever you want baby.”

His hand is back under your underwear in no time, playing with your hole and collecting your juices with his fingers. You grind against his hand as he slides two fingers in.

Not even your imagination could have prepared you. His thick fingers stretch you more than you ever could, and the slow but deep thrusts let you feel him in places your fingers could never reach. You can’t hold back the moans that comes out of you.

“Oh my God! Mingyu faster please!” You’re not ashamed to beg anymore.

His palm is creating friction on your clit while his other hand is still playing with your nipples, and he thrusts into you faster.

You pace your grinds to match his hand, and you’re sure this is what heaven feels like. You feel the tightness in your stomach close to snapping.

“I’m so close!” You breathe out.

Mingyu slows down his thrusts, and you’re about to complain when you feel him add a third finger. He’s stretching you deliciously, knuckles deep inside you. You can feel him everywhere.

“Cum on my fingers c’mon” He demands as he speeds up. His fingers reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you jelly and abuse it.

You’re cumming on his fingers faster than ever. Shaking on top of him as he thrusts his fingers in and out slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm.

When he finally pulls his fingers out of you, you’re still breathless. Mingyu surprises you again when he moves his slick covered fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

You remove your panties once and for all and turn around. You feel his still hard cock under you and he winces at the friction.

“That was really hot.” You state, and his whole face turns red.

“I’m not done with you.” In one swift movement, you have your back against the couch and your head on the armrest. “I really wanna eat you out.”

And who are you to stop such a determined man? You grab his face and kiss him hard, tasting your arousal in him. “Okay.”

He starts a trail of kisses on your thigh, slowly going down until he reaches your cunt, but skips it and starts kissing your other leg. You whine in response as you grab his head and put it back on your core. You feel his breath on your bare cunt and shiver.

He looks at you in the eyes and barely licks your lower lips. You sigh at the little contact. “Stop teasing.”

His hands open up your legs and he flattens his tongue on your lips, licking in up and down motions and kissing your clit.

When he experimentally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, you moan and instinctively close your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

With his head now trapped in between your thighs, his tongue licks you from your clit and to your hole, tasting and savoring your arousal like it’s his last meal.

He toys with your clit and your hands find themselves in his hair again, pushing him more against your cunt. He moans when you pull at his hair, sending vibrations straight to your core and you feel a wave of arousal gushing out of you and to his mouth.

His tongue teases your hole, stroking the tip in and out lightly. You push his head into you again and his nose bumps into your clit, taking a moan out of you.

“Feels so good" You grind against his tongue as it keeps teasing your hole and his nose stimulates your clit.

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast and you’re cumming on Mingyu’s mouth in no time. He keeps his mouth on you, licking every last drop of arousal that gushes out. You have to pull at his hair to make him stop.

When he lifts his head up from you, his chin is shiny with arousal, and he’s smiling.

You waste no time and make him sit on the couch again, “Now it’s tour turn."

You kneel on the floor as you remove his boxers. Even after seeing him on video and feeling him under you, you were not prepared to see how big Mingyu actually was.

His cock springs out against his stomach, angry red and already leaking pre cum.

It barely fits in your hand, and he sighs at your touch. You give a few experimental pumps, but he stops you.

“I don’t have much longer. Do you have a condom?”

“You wanna be inside me that bad?”

“Yes.” He responds quickly. You chuckle as you grab your purse. You find the one you put while getting ready and open it.

He squirms under your hands as you put it on him. As soon as the condom is on, he grabs you and gets you on top of him again. You both sigh as your cores touch.

You grind on him, covering his cock with your juices and you both moan as he traces your neck with bites and kisses.

“Looks who’s teasing now.”

“It’s fun seeing you frustrated.” You stop your movements, and he looks at you frowning. You can’t resist his sudden cuteness and give him a peck as you resume grinding on him. His tip grazes your clit and you shiver.

“You’re making me crazy.” He breathes out, and you can’t help to chuckle.

“Can you cum like this?”

“I want to cum inside you.” His whiny response takes you by surprise.

His hands grab you by the waist and lift you up. With one hand you grab his cock and position it under your hole.

You steady yourself, putting your hands on the back of the couch, and slowly start going down.

If you thought his fingers reached places no one ever has before, then you’re sure his dick is creating more space for you to feel him. You can feel every vein dragging inside of you.

You suppress your moans by kissing him, and he sighs in your mouth when you bottom out.

You’re so full you’re having trouble breathing. He keeps you still, giving you time to adjust. Even the tiniest move makes him twitch inside of you.

“You’re so fucking big Mingyu.”

“I told you I'd make it fit.” He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you to him to kiss you. You moan, feeling him grind inside you, and he stills.

You start grinding on him slowly. You’re sighing on each other’s mouths, savoring every drag of his dick inside of you, feeling him reach deeper with every thrust.

Your hands travel to his chest and start playing with his nipples. He thrusts up when you pinch one nipple lightly, hitting exactly where you need it and making you moan louder, so you do it again.

“Yes like that Mingyu.” That encourages to start thrusting up harder and matching your pace.

One of his hands creeps down to your cunt and start playing with your sensitive clit, still wet from his spit, and the other plays with one of your nipples.

You start clenching around him, eliciting a moan out of him.

“You’re so tight around me baby.” He says almost in a moan. “I'm so close."

His thumb is still playing with your swollen clit, making you squirm and clench so hard it’s hard to keep grinding on him. You collapse on his chest and he embraces you as he fastens his moves.

He's thrusting so deep and hard. You're sure he's marking you as his. Ruining you for any other man, spelling his name in your insides so you're forever his.

Your bodies are so close together that your clit is rubbing against his abs, a friction you've never experienced but it makes the tightness on your stomach come so close to snapping you can almost taste it.

A few hard thrusts later you’re coming undone on top of him. But his thrusts don’t stop, chasing his high while you’re clenching around him, making him go crazy. You’re staring to feel the overstimulation when you feel him twitch inside you, and his thrusts come to a stop.

You stay like that, your head on his shoulder and his arms around your waist while you regulate your breaths. Your torsos pushed together allow you to feel the beating of his heart.

Mingyu relaxes his arms from around you, and you release yourself from his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck and look him in the eye.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He chuckles at your question.

“I’m still inside you, and you want to talk?” His reply sends shivers down your spine, and you unconsciously clench around him. He drops his head back in a sigh, and his hands find their way to your hips.

“Are you staying over?” Mingyu looks at you with puppy dog eyes, and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t say no to him. You just nod as an answer, and he smiles like you just gave him a million dollars.

He surges forward to kiss you and you both wince at the stimulation from the sudden movement. “I think we should get up.” You chuckle with his mouth still on yours.

He helps you get up, and you instantly miss the fullness of having him inside.

While you grab your clothes from the floor, he disposes of the condom and goes to his bedroom. He comes back with one of his shirts to give to you. Your stomach gives a little jump at the idea of sleeping with his t-shirt as he shows you where the bathroom is so you can clean up.

When you finish and go to Mingyu’s bedroom, he’s waiting for you already inside the covers, a smile still plastered on his face. You sit on the bed and give him a peck, but he doesn’t let you go as he deepens the kiss and hugs you close to him.

“Mingyu the sun is about to come up. We need to sleep.” You manage to say with his lips on yours, and he smiles. You separate, but neither of you make any moves to go to sleep. You lay facing each other, admiring each other’s features in silence, when he suddenly says.

“Can I confess something?” That definitely wakes you up.

“You’re not a murderer are you?” You joke, and he shakes his head as he puts one string of your hair behind your ear.

“I know we didn’t really like each other until a few days ago…" He says, now with a serious expression on his face, and you listen carefully. “and I’m not saying this just because you made me cum on the phone…” He continues very seriously but you can’t help to chuckle lightly. Mingyu removes his eyes from you a little embarrassed by what he’s about to say, “and I don’t know why you sent me that photo the other day and I might be embarrassing myself saying this but, I think I kinda like you and I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

You stay in silence a few seconds, processing what Mingyu just said. He doesn’t dare to look at you.

“Can I confess something too?” Your question makes him look at you again. He stares at you with those puppy eyes you’re learning you’re too soft for. “I sent that picture by accident the other day.” He looks worried, fearing that what you’re saying means you’re rejecting him, so you quickly continue, “but I don’t regret it.” You see a little smile appear on his lips. “I think we were very stupid not talking all these years, we could’ve save a lot of time if you just showed me your monster cock before!” You can’t help to joke to lighten the serious mood and he laughs with you.

You grab his face and give him a little peck. “I think I might like you too, but we need to see how it goes first.”

He smile grows impossibly wider at your words. “Let me take you on a date tomorrow.”

You chuckle at his eagerness. He’s too cute for his own good. “Ok let’s go out tomorrow.”

He hugs you and brings you closer to him again, taking his time sweetly kissing you while his hands sneak under his shirt to touch your skin.

In a swift motion, Mingyu traps you under him again, your back on the mattress, and he presses against you to let you feel his already growing bulge. “Oh my god you’re insatiable.” You say as you grind against him, earning a moan out of him. “Look who’s talking.”

note: thank you so much for the support on the first part♥︎ I'm sorry the ending is kind of abrupt

#mingyu smut #mingyu au #seventeen smut #seventeen au #svt smut #mingyu hard hours #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours

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plutocisms · 3 months ago

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Jean x Reader, Oneshot || Drunk at a party w/ his crush

nsfw content warning <33 mdni

You’re at a party and the house is packed. You can barely make your way through the crowd and you came here all by yourself. You were invited by Armin one day while you two were catching up on some work at a cafe.

You scan the room to find any familiar faces and you spot Eren and Armin grabbing drinks from the fridge. You’re just a little too sober for this scene so you make your way through to crowd to them, you grab Armin’s arm and ask,

“what’s the strongest thing you have in there?”

He turn’s to face you, you can tell he’s already had a a few drinks by his reaction and because he has a light shade of red across his nose and cheeks.

“Hey! Look who’s here everybody.” He pulls you in for a hug and passes you a bottle of tequila from the counter top.

“I hope this is okay, you’ve met Eren right?”

Eren tilts his head back from the fridge, also a little visibly buzzed and says,

“Of course we’ve met, you haven’t had that much Armin.”

You chuckle to yourself.

Armin throws his hand back behind his head and laughs it off, “Oops, well just in case you hadn’t.”

“It’s good to see you again.” You tell Eren.

You set the Tequila down on the counter and start looking through the cupboards for shot glasses. You notice that they’re on the top shelf. You get on your tiptoes in attempt to reach them but they’re a little out of your range. As you come down you feel a tall figure standing behind you and a hand on the small of your back, causing you to let out a small gasp.

“Hey, didn’t mean to scare you. Let me grab those for you.”

You turn around taking your gaze up to notice, It was Jean. You had only met him a few times in settings like these, but you were hoping you’d run into him again. He reaches above you, forcing you to the lean back on the counter just a bit and the scent of his cologne overtakes you.

“Here.” He hand’s you the shot glass. “So…you’re a fan of tequila?”

“It’s just what Armin handed me.” you reply.

“I see.” He makes his way past you towards Connie and Marco having a drinking competition on the back patio and he joins them.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’dve thought maybe you said something to upset him. You pour yourself a double shot and catch back up with Eren and Armin who are halfway across the room at this point.

“What’s going on by the patio?” You ask them.

They both turn their heads to catch a glimpse.

“Looks like they’re at it again” Armin responds nudging Eren’s arm.

“Oh boy, Horseface thinks he can just outdrink anyone.” He says making his way to the sliding patio doors.

“Horseface?” You say confusedly.

“Jean, he means, they have this ridiculous rivalry that is annoying but sometimes fairly amusing for the rest of us.”

You watch as Eren walks out the door and throws his hand up saying something that is barely audible with the all the loud music playing.

“We should probably head out there.” You and Armin walk outside together and your eyes meet Jean’s. He looks away before you do, refocsuing on the drinks in front of him.

“Y/n!”

You hear your name shouted excitedly from your left side, you feel arms hanging around you.

“Hey Sasha! You answer. Hugging her back

“Can you believe these boneheads? So barbaric. Did you get some of the buffalo chicken dip? It was amazing.”

“I ate before I got here, thank you though.”

“That’s too bad, I’m gonna grab some more.”

“Could you bring me two shots back pl-?”

She was already inside before you could finish your sentence.

“Two shots?” Armin hands you two shot glasses filled to the brim. “There’s a bar right next to you ya know?”

You grab the two shots from Armin and just as you do, Eren makes his way towards you, "I'll be taking one of those." as he reaches for either glass. You turn around blocking his reach, your backside flush against his front as he's reaching over you for the drink you're now covering.

"I think not" you shouted. His arms now squeezing you from behind.

"Agh you're no fun." Eren remarks ,finally letting you go and getting back to the table.

You down your second, technically third shot for the night.

“Alright guys I’m good for right now.” Marco says backing away from the drinks. “I’ll leave it to you Jean.”

Armin takes it upon himself to step in as the ref for this little competition “Connie are you still in this?”

“Nah man” He hiccups between his words. “Imma..gonna catch up with S-Sasha” he says stumbling his way inside”

You watch as Eren and Armin giggle watching Connie fumble around making his way towards Sasha devouring another bowl of buffalo chicken dip. You then notice Jean who’s not laughing. He looks over at you and it feels as if his amber eyes are burning a hole right through you and you break your gaze first.

“Alright well that just leaves-“ Armin starts.

“I think I’ve proven myself here. I’m gonna find a bathroom.” Jean interrupts. Wiping off the little bit of drink left on his chin

He makes his way inside almost slamming the screen door.

“The fucks up with him?” Eren murmurs.

“Just…you and me I guess” Armin finishes. They both look at each other and bust out laughing.

You make your way inside still babysitting that one shot you still have in hand. Jean makes his way upstairs. His pace hard to keep up with. You swim your way through the crowd with your drink in the air careful not to spill it. You pick up the pace and when your foot hits the last step you hear a door shut. You knock on the bathroom door twice.

“Occupied” Jean growls.

“It’s y/n.”

You hear his large footsteps make his way towards the door. He opens it and leans on the door frame with his arms raised towering over you.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, seemingly annoyed.

“I- I just wanted to check on you.”

He kind of rolls his eyes and begins to shut the door. “Thanks, I’m great.”

You pop your foot in the crack of the door preventing it from closing all the way and tilt your head

“You don’t seem so great.”

He looks down at your foot.

“Move it.”

You keep your foot right where it is, looking straight at him.

“Move your foot y/n.”

“No, Je-“

He steps out of the door frame, and snatches you up by your arm, his grip so tight it almost hurts, making you spill your drink on your top. You gasp, catching your breath startled by the quick movement.

He looks you directly and desperately in your eyes and in an angry low voice mutters,

“Do you think I wanna watch you parade around with Eren and Armin all fucking night?”

His face is so close to yours, your noses are almost touching. He notices your drink dripping from your chest collecting drops in the crease of your cleavage. He steps back in the bathroom slamming the door in your face leaving you speechless. You had no idea he felt that way. The tequila covering your chest had soaked the top of your shirt leaving you a bit overexposed.

The door opened back up quickly. Avoiding looking down at your tequila soaked chest, Jean was standing there in a black tank top, and holding out the shirt he had on before in his hand. “Cover yourself up.”

Admiring his frame you slowly put your hand out reaching for his shirt. He looks over to see you, biting your bottom lip noticing your eyes slightly shifting up and down.

“No, don’t. Don’t do that”

“Don’t do what?” You’ve finally found some words.

“Don’t look at me like that y/n.”

“Like what?” You breathed.

He drops the shirt before it meets your grasp, running his hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh. He throws his hands in his pockets and takes a slight bend so his mouth is level with your ear and whispers,

“Don’t look at me like you want me to fuck you.”

You felt a tingling sensation shoot all the way through you.

He bends over to pick up the shirt and lightly shoves it on your chest, just a few layers of fabric separating his bare hand from your breasts.

“I’m not gonna say it again, cover yourself up.” He grunts, back to avoiding your gaze.

You place your hand on top of his causing him to look over to you. His amber eyes are a hanging a little low from the alcohol.

“What if..” You hesitate

“What if I want you to?” You say warmly.

He doesn’t waste a second, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder. His hand gripping your thighs as you hang over his broad frame. He carries you to a nearby room and tosses you on the bed almost carelessly. He hovers over you, strands of his hair tickling your cheek

“Don’t tease me y/n”

You close the distance with a passionate kiss.

“It was never Eren or Armin I was interested in, it was always y-“

He cuts you off meeting his lips wet lips with yours, cupping your cheek. You could feel him smiling slightly between kisses. He guides your hand to his bulge that’s been poking you since he climbed on top. He hums at your touch. He then slips his hand onto your clothed clit, rubbing lightly over your jeans. You let out a moan causing him to tense up slightly.

“Damn y/n. You’re gonna ruin me.”

You begin undoing your jeans and he slides them off of you, tossing them with no care where they end up. He looks down admiring all that’s in front of him and notices a damp spot on your panties.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet?” He smirks, shifting your panties to the side to slip a finger in. Your body shudders at his touch and how his finger glides its way past your folds. He looks down seeing his finger glistening with you all around it and you can see his bulge growing bigger. His arm reaches overhead, taking his tank top off and he hungrily tugs at you panties discarding them along with his top.

He gently spreads open your thighs and lands warm wet kisses on each repeatedly. Your hips jolt and you bite back a moan, taken aback by the feelings he’s been hiding. Those kisses work there way down to your entrance, his warm breath down there making your back arch slightly until finally you feel his tongue graze your already soaking cunt. He continues to lick as your wetness coats his tongue, poking it in your opening.

“Goddamn, you taste so good.” He purred.

You tighten your grip on his hair guiding his tongue deeper into you.

He groans as his hips are making a small grinding motions in the bed. He starts gently sucking your clit, sending you into a spiral, causing you to buck your hips forward. His grip on your thigh tightens in one hand and he hums with pleasure while the other reaches up caressing your breasts. His suckling of your clit getting more intense. Your breath hitches, you toss your head back and your legs tense up.

“J-jean…” you choke out.

He raises his head up. “Un-uh” he teases. “I’ve waited quite a while for this, so you’re gonna have to hold out a little bit longer for me m’kay princess.”

His words causing you to whimper.

He stands at the foot of the bed, shimmying his pants off, gazing intensely upon you lying there helpless. He slowly pulls down his waistband. Your eyes trail from his abs to his happy trail just before his cock springs out. Your eyes widen at his size which causes him the chuckle just a little bit. He kneels down on the bed, sliding his shaft between your sopping wet folds and tapping his oh-so-hard length on your entrance, toying with you. He hovers above you, giving you a sensual kiss you can taste yourself on, causing you to melt.

Inching closer to your ear, “hold on to me if you need to.” He rasped just before sinking into you.

You inhale sharply feeling him penetrate your core. He lets out a strangled moan at the way your pussy is gripping him.

“Oh s-shit” he huffs, thrusting in and out of your velvet walls as you’re clenching on to his arms, dizzy with pleasure. He reaches his thumb to his mouth, wetting it before reaching down for your already sensitive clit, now ramming his hips into you, one thing’s very clear, if he wasn’t drunk before he’s drunk with pleasure from your pussy now.

“You’re so damn tight and taking me so well baby.”

He groans, with your entire body jolting underneath him with every thrust. You feel a familiar coil build up in your stomach as you inch closer and closer to your release, your breath hitching again.

“G-god Jean I-“ you cry out

“That’s right baby, cum all over this dick”

Your back arches as you reach your release feeling him twitch inside you, your whole face gets a little warm from being flushed after taking in so much.

The sight of you experiencing such euphoria from his doing coupled with the intense tightening of your walls delivered him his own high as he stroked his cock painting a picture on your stomach panting and biting back moans with sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Fuck, you are so hot.” Jean trembles, looking for something to help clean you up before collapsing down next to you.

Your exhales breathy and spread out. You smile at him,

“You really thought me and--“ you can’t help but laugh

He’s pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you, “Whatever I thought, you’re all mine now.” He says gently, kissing your shoulder.

If you like this please give me a little feedback hehe it's my first one! also, open to taking prompts/requests

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #aot smut #jean smut #jean kirstein #jean kirsten smut #aot fandom #aot fanfic #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean x black reader

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lgbtlunaverse · 10 months ago

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heads- up: someone is taking jc-centric fics and turning them into jc-bashing wangxian fics

I don't usually like to bring twitter drama over to tumblr but since the perpetrator in this case explicitly said they do this ON TUMBLR I felt it was pertinent to do so.

Today user DyuaLan on twitter, aka @jiaoji on tumblr, publically bragged about finding chengxian, xicheng, and zhanzheng fics and changing the names to make them wangxian fics with jiang cheng bashing.

When authors (understandably) reacted to this by blocking them, they boasted about still having 15 stolen fics in their drafts on top of the ones they've already posted.

And that they do all of this stuff on tumblr anyway, not twitter

If you have written any kind of Jiang Cheng ships, or Jiang Cheng-centric fic in general, and are not a fan of your work being stolen, it's in your best interest to block them.

They also said that they block everyone they steal from. Though if you go to the blog now and are blocked, please don't panic, that might just be for fanwar reasons.

Here's proof that DyuaLan is in fact the same person as Jiaoji:

(@jiaoji and @jiaoji2 lead to the same blog, it was probably called this because they at some point lost access/moved from their previous blog @jiao-ji)

And here jiaoji is bragging on their tumblr about feeling too lazy to even rewrite someone else's work

Their ao3 is "Jiao_ji" where they have 16 works total, most of which are in portuguese, making it harder to verify which ones are stolen, as a lot of their "sources" are probably in english. (Most of the fics they have written on tumblr itself are also in english) They also have a wattpad account with the url "Dilf_ji"

As a bonus here they are 2 years ago whining about zhancheng authors blocking them because it means they can no longer steal their fics, this has been going on for a while.

And talking a bit more about stealing from chengxian and zhancheng authors:

While I haven't written any jiang cheng ships, I am a fic writer, and I know the work that goes into it. I can work on a single oneshot for months on end. So this kind of attitude, where if you hate a ship the author's work is just free for the taking, is appaling to me. Inspiration is normal, fandom is inherently transformative. Hell, ao3 has a "works inspired by" function for exactly that. But wholesale lifting someone's else's writing, only changing the ship and adding salt about a character you hate? Yeah, no. "Character bashing" fics aren't my cup of tea in the first place, but if you're going to do it, at least have the decency to write the damn things yourself.

I don't like doing callouts, so while I know that I can't really control anyone else's actions, I want to say for my own peace of mind... please just block this person. I don't wanna cause even more discourse. Remember: you don't feed trolls. I posted this because i think writers deserve to be warned when someone is maliciously stealing and editing their work, not to instigate harassment.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #discourse #complaining and whining about fandom #fanfiction #long post #they seem to have a decently sized following so there's a chance you're reading this and already know them #because you read and enjoyed their wangxian fics... sorry. those might in fact not have been theirs

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kimberly-spirits13 · 2 years ago

Text

How You Earned the Respect of the Batfam as Tim’s S/O

Basically headcannons on how the Batfam came to like you

Tim:

• He always thought that you were kind and intelligent

• You knew your worth and wouldn’t take less

• He had dated some not so nice people in the past and seeing you really raised his standards

• You weren’t friends with him because of his money whether your family had it or not

• You weren’t in it for the fame or the attention and you were understanding of him

• He felt comfortable around you like he could be himself 100% without judgement

• You were a vigilante that hadn’t interacted with the Batfam expect for Tim

• You had come from an intense assassin training, similar to Bruce’s but had escaped when you decided that everything was just messed up

• You went to Gotham and used the powers you had to manipulate officials around you that you had parents and weren’t just living willy nilly by yourself

• That’s when you enrolled in school and met Tim and you guys hit it off quick

• Tim appreciated that he could text or call you at any time and you wouldn’t complain or make him feel bad

• It didn’t take long for you to find out that he was Red Robin

• No one on earth texts you at 2am on the same block every night for weeks on end

• He felt like there wasn’t anyone who would ever be there for him like you

• Tim liked that he had the ultimate companion during patrols, even if you hadn’t been revealed to the rest of his family

• You’re skilled and he doesn’t have to worry about you getting hurt during patrol or missions

Dick:

• The first time that you two met was when you rushed Tim to the cave because he had gotten badly injured on patrol

• Tim had gotten shot and broken a few ribs and you hauled it to the cave

• Tim wasn’t really conscious during the ride and wasn’t aware that you knew where the cave was/ the entrances

• Everyone was immediately on high alert when some stranger arrived with a near dead Tim

• Dick knew he liked you when you pulled in, rushing Tim into the med bay

• He saw you holding his hand and wiping his hair out of his face while the bullet was pulled from him

• While Tim was waking up from surgery, you didn’t leave his side and continued to hold his hand

• Dick’s heart was melted- one because his brother had a close call, and two because someone was really, really caring for him

• He had seen Tim’s exes and hated them, but he knew that you were different

• You were easy to talk to and respectful to everyone

• You had an agreeable personality and really seemed to care for Tim

• When Tim woke up, he saw how Tim immediately squeezed your hand to make sure that you were there

• After spending time with you that night, seeing how you took care of Tim, and how Tim interacted with you, Dick knew he liked you

Bruce:

• Bruce saw you coming into the cave like a bat out of hell with Tim and was immediately on guard

• How does this random person know Tim’s secret identity, how do they know where the cave is, WHAT’S WRONG WITH TIMMY MY SWEET CHILD

• After the rush of getting Tim’s situation under control, he also noticed that you never left Tim’s side

• So he knew that you two were in a committed relationship, however, that didn’t mean that he trusted you

• Bruce is a hard case to crack, it really takes some time for him to warm up to anyone

• It was probably a few months into you and Tim hanging out around the manor when you attended a gala with Tim that he really started to trust and or likely you

• Tim was really stressed and didn’t really want to be at the gala

• You were with him the entire time and didn’t leave, even when the paparazzi and media were all being rude

• It’s a very normal thing that the tabloids exploit anything that happens in the Wayne family and you were like fresh blood

• You were poised, collected, calm, and totally indifferent to the comments

• He knew that Tim hated the media and seeing you calm him down and pull him away from some non obligatory meeting with idiots made him feel like he could trust you with Tim

• Not that he’ll admit it

• He notices that whenever you’re around, it seems like Tim has a weight lifted off his shoulders

Alfred:

• He was the one that helped extract the bullet from Tim’s abdomen so he met you along with everyone else

• I’m sure he knew that Tim was dating someone, but this was the first time he had met that person

• Alfred is a very kind and respectful man

• If he really doesn’t like a person, they know it

• However, if he doesn’t yet know, he treats them formally and without a personal relationship aspect

• He knew that he really liked you when one night, during a busy week of extra crime, you had hauled Tim into bed, forcing him to sleep and shut away his electronics

• Alfred was behind on some housework because of the hectic monitoring schedule and went to bed early

• You stayed up and did the rest of the chores he needed to have completed

• You had always helped out in little ways like cleaning up after yourself (the boys are incapable sometimes lemme tell you, you’re a blessing simply for being normal), you’d make Tim clean his room, and you’d make sure that everything was better than how you found it

• He was so grateful that you had taken time out of rest and decided to help him during a time of need

• It was something very genuine to him since most of the people that the batfam bring home wouldn’t do something like that either out of fear of messing up or indifference

Jason:

• Jay really wasn’t that difficult to crack

• I mean he’s got a rough exterior but ultimately, he just wants to see Timmy happy

• He knows about Tim’s exes and hates every one of them

• Makes sure that you’re not going to blindside anyone with something you have hidden

• Now what really, really gets him to like you personally was when you had come into the cave with a menagerie of weapons to have cleaned, polished, or sharpened

• Tim was sitting at the computer doing work and you were working on everything else

• He didn’t realize that you were really serious about the vigilante life until he saw you hauling all that mess in

• He realized that you came from a tough background and had grown up and out of it

• These things that happened to you didn’t define who you were and he liked that about you since he had a struggle with that- basically he lives vicariously through you at times

• When he sat down next to you with his gun collection to clean and polish, you struck up conversations on Jane Austen, weapons, crazy childhoods, pop culture classics, and random assassinations that ended up being one of you

• He just thinks that you’re cool and chill and that’s good enough for him

Damian:

• Also wasn’t really that hard to break

• I mean you were known as the greatest child assassin and he looked up to you when he was little

• Concerning but that’s how it is

• He recognized you immediately and kept a distance

• Star struck Damian Wayne

• Questions how Tim was dating you

• He knew that he really liked you when his pets liked you

• It’s cliché, but the quickest way to Damian Wayne’s cold little heart is through animals

• You helped him train and walk Titus

• Pennyworth liked to sit on your shoulder and survey the house as you walked around

• Damian was the only other person whom Pennyworth would do this with

• Damian was just bamboozled

He also likes that you’re not some mindless idiot

• Most of the socialites that he has to hang out with are zombies who feed off of dollar bills and designer drugs

Cass:

• Is very, very protective of her family

• She is not one for outsiders and makes sure to know all the weaknesses of new people

• The problem is that she’s having trouble finding your weaknesses

• Tim is obviously one of them, but your stance, your fighting, your regular self just seems indestructible

• She knew personally that this came with tons of training and discipline

• Cass really starts to like you when you notice that she’s not really verbal

• You knew sign language and immediately just start signing to her instead of talking

• Cass really appreciated that you were comfortable getting on her level without second thought

• You watch out for everyone in the family and she feels like she’s not alone in her worries

• You’re basically like a new sibling for her

• You and Cass have a tight bond, the kind of relationship that if you and Tim broke up, you’d still be besties

• She knows that you’re reliable and will never try and use her

• That’s all she wants

Stephanie:

• I think Steph would be easy to get along with

• Like you really gotta suck for her to not like you

• Steph really likes that you’re a relatable person

• You don’t act like you have a stick stuck up your butt and you’re not dramatically brooding at everything

• Steph really started to like you when one night the two of you stayed up after everyone went to sleep

• You two talked about life over some homemade cookies

• You two talked about your favorite celebrities, movies, pet peeves, tv shows, the reality tv show drama, and anything that you could think of

• Now you’re somehow besties with all of the Wayne girls and it’s great

• She also likes that you can lovingly boss Tim around

• There aren’t many that can do that and it’s pretty apparent

Babs:

• Alfred was out of town the day that she started to really, really take a liking towards you

• She was always a cynic for some part, but she started to casually warm up to you

• Saw you as Tim’s s/o and not really a friend

• This was until you noticed that she looked really stressed managing the surveillance by herself without the help of Alfred

• You stayed behind for the time that Alfred was gone and helped her run everything

• She was worried at first since she wasn’t sure that you’d be good at computers

• You really happened to impress her though and that won her over

• You were easy to talk to and it also wasn’t awkward when there was just silence and nothing to talk about

• Babs thinks she felt her heart patter when you very sternly talked Jason down from throwing Damian off a building (regular occurrence)

• “JASON PETER TODD IF YOU DON’T PUT THAT CHILD DOWN AT ONCE I WILL PERSONALLY HAUL YOUR ASS TO THE BANK BUILDING AND CATAPULT YOU ACROSS GOTHAM, DO YOU UNDERSTAND”

• She was like 😏

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killuakiru · 2 months ago

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hello!!! i love your works sm ahhhh (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

may i request headcanons for killua and gon (separately) with an s/o who is really happy and cheerful all the time but their real emotions are actually difficult to read? ty and remember to stay hydrated!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

HIII ANONNN THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH !! <33 I am more than happy to comply your request 🤲 thank you for requesting !! Hopefully you'll like it <3

side note : thank you for the requests !! my writer's block is being cured by everyone's brilliant thoughts, thank u also for the support !! I honestly didn't know my words can bring emotions to those of my readers. > < I love yall sososo much, please take care !!

⊹₊⋆ Hidden In Plain Sight !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Gn!Reader x Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecss ( Separate ! )ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Let's Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Honestly, Killua was SO attracted to you mainly because he wanted to know you more, that's just who he is ! Even when you experienced horrible things, your smile never falters, leaving him very curious.

• Don't get me wrong, he loves seeing you smile and all that, and he's glad that he makes you laugh.

• But seriously, he can't shake off that feeling. If he says so himself, he can read people's emotions. ( But can be that he's surrounded by ppl who are generally easy to read )

• Ever since, he's been keeping a close eye on you— even before you both made it official. ESPECIALLY since he's not an expert when it comes to emotions.

• He keeps an eye on you on frankly everything. Your reactions if you were hurt physically, your reactions if you were denied or rejected by proposes, etc. He was DETERMINED to know your true emotions.

• But setting all of those to the side— he treats you really well, almost like how he treats Alluka. As his beloved significant other, he made a vow to himself to prioritize your needs first instead of his, knowing how unpredictable you could be.

• Although, hypothetically lets say.. You lost composure. Since you were the natural cheerful type, you'd often attached easily; Kite / Kaito, as an example.

• Kaito taught you three some simple guidance, as well as sharing stories to probably keep the children's nerves at bay. Who wouldn't? The Chimera Ants were an unknown organism, and they were regarded as highly vicious.

• The night Kaito was attacked, the sheer look of horror from your face left Killua stunned, all while Gon had a similar reaction but couldn't hold his inner rage in.

• The next morning while awaiting the Botany Hunters that accompanied Kaito, he saw you so dejected, and it was the first time seeing you like that. Your eyes were so lifeless it genuinely made Killua nervous to his core.

• Similarly to Gon, after he finished moping around, you both recovered within minutes. But Killua probably knew better as your boyfriend.

• Yes, you were back to your cheerful and talkative self, and Killua was glad, but at the same time paranoid. He knew everything had limits, his emotions, Gon's, even yours.

• After seeing that look of terror and melancholy look in your face, he's learned to ask himself; "Are they really okay?" with a heart beating in fear of losing you to succumbing to misery due to the fact you tend to keep your troubles to yourself.

༉‧₊˚. Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Honestly it's a miracle how he couldn't read your emotions easily. With his keen senses, one would probably think he'd instantly find something out.

• However you were a different case, similarly to Killua, he had a gut feeling— an instinct, if you must.

• Growing up on a mountain and relying on instinct, he knew better than to leave it alone. And so even before you both became a couple, he'd make low-key questions about your wellbeing to understand what you're feeling to an extent, but you'd always brush it off or answer it with a wide smile and cheerful tone.

• Gon just brushed it off after a while, believing your facial expression as your eyes creases in genuine happiness, the way you would grow breathless when you, Killua, and Gon would joke around, he firmly believed you truly were just a happy person and nothing could affect you.

• Unlike Killua, though. Gon didn't watch over you closely. As said previously— he firmly believed you were alright and had a strong mentality.

• Gon believed you can carry yourself, and you proved that point to him ! Whenever you'd be defeated physically and mentally, he'd always watch you standing your ground with a determined expression and a fairly attractive grin.

• But, because of his carelessness, that was his major mistake. He knew your tendencies, you knew his. You both were easily attached to someone and easily trusted them.

• And since Kaito knew Gon's father, you both equally shared the same celebration. Gon had a knew lead to Ging, so any normal significant other would be happy for their boyfriend.

• So the night where Kaito was attacked, ( yes we're using the same scene ), you couldn't comprehend your emotions. Your heart hammered against your chest. Seeing that.. monster that attacked Kaito with no mercy, and that very intimidating aura. So this was a Royal Guard.

• Killua noticed your demeanor, no doubt. Even Kaito, it was clear. How your usual cheerful and light demeanor turned one of a dark and fearful demeanor, Killua tried to nudge Gon. However Gon was too engulfed in his rage to even notice.

• The day he came back to his senses, looking back at it, he felt regret in his actions. While he knew his rage was justified— he wasn't paying attention to you.

• You easily forgave him though. That sent alarming shocks to his nerves. He saw your puffy and tired eyes, even when you smiled he didn't see the familiar creases he'd normally see in your eyes.

• Even after that, his rage grew and grew. But you'd constantly be by his side, so his bloodlust would often be at bay. He loved your warming personality so much and he appreciated every piece of you.

• In the end, after everything was finished, he had grown a habit to occasionally check up on you and your wellbeing. He knew you'd always bottle up your emotions, and he knew you'd break eventually.

• When that time comes, he wants to be with you and guide you through the process. He knows it'll be hard, but he'll be patient with you if you're patient with yourself.

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh 2011 #hxh fanart #hxh killua #hxh x reader #hxh gon #hxh headcanons #hxh spoilers #hxh x y/n #hxh x you #gon x reader #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #killua x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 8 days ago

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Do you think Harry will able to defeat veritaserum?

I mean, It's Harry, so yeah, probably.

I couldn't track down anything about it in the books, but in a JKR F&Q she said this:

4. Why isn’t Veritaserum used in interrogations? It is, but skilled wizards can avoid its effects by using antidotes and charms. A gifted Occlumens could also resist Veritaserum.

(Source)

And as it's said:

“I am about to attempt to break into your mind,” said Snape softly. “We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. . . . You will find that similar powers are needed for this. . . . Brace yourself, now. . . . Legilimens!”

(OotP, Ch24)

And we know Harry can resist the Imperius Curse almost easily, but it's different with Occlumency when we see him attempt it in book 5... So, what I want to talk about is how what Harry does (both when he finally blocks his mind in book 7 and how he resists the Imperius) isn't actually Occlumancy at all. But it doesn't matter because the results are the same and it should allow him to resist Veritaserum too!

This is Harry resisting the Imperius curse:

Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming . . . just answer no . . . say no . . . just answer no. . . . I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, I won’t answer. . . . Just answer no. . . . I won’t do it, I won’t say it. . . . Just answer no. . . . “I WON’T!” And these words burst from Harry’s mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him

(GoF, Ch34)

This is Harry practicing "Occlumency" in book 7:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain, he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out. . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love

(DH, Ch24)

There are common denominators here. What Harry is doing in both cases isn't anything controlled or well thought out or focused. He and his magic are going on instinct. It's all emotion and resistance. He outright notices his secret to Occlumancy is grief — emotion.

Harry's magic is always very instinctual. He treats magic as a feeling rather than a hard science (the way Dumbledore did most of his life and like Hermione does) and in his case, he is right to do so. Harry's magic reacts to him instinctively and is very intuned with his emotions. Harry's magic is much more influenced by Harry's force of will, rather than if he's actually doing the wand movement right. (More on Harry's magic with evidence: here, here & here).

Now, this actually makes sense with how magic works, but I'll go more into it later.

Now, the reason I'm bringing up these aspects of how Harry practices "Occlumency" is because they outright contradict how Snape explains Occlumency works. Let's recall how Occlumency is described:

“Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather’s kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.” [...] “Clear your mind, Potter,” said Snape’s cold voice. “Let go of all emotion. . . .” But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . . “You’re not doing it, Potter. . . . You will need more discipline than this. . . . Focus, now. . . .”

(OotP, Ch24)

It's against any influences on the mind. Be it the Imperius, Legilemancy, or Veritaserum. Hell, it would probably help against the mental effects of a dementor. But Snape clearly states it's about focus. For real Occlumency you need a clear mind. You need to let go of all emotion. Something Harry is incapable of doing.

And even when we look at Harry's most successful attempt to defend himself from Snape's Legilemancy in book 5, it's very similar to his reaction to the Imperius, filled with emotion:

No, said a voice in Harry’s head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer, you’re not watching that, you’re not watching it, it’s private — He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape’s office had come back into view and he realized that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape’s desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark. “Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?” asked Snape coolly. “No,” said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.

(OotP, Ch24)

His magic casts Snape out with a stinging hex, this isn't Occlumancy, Harry had no idea he was doing it because that's how Harry's magic is. Harry wanted Snape out of his mind and his magic complied, there was no focus, no clear mind — it was all instinct and emotion.

When he throws Voldemort out of his mind in the ministry, it's the same — all emotion and instinct:

“If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .” Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . . And I’ll see Sirius again. . . . And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

(OotP, Ch36)

His emotions cast Voldemort out, not his mind. This isn't Occlumency.

I have spoken in the past about how magic in HP seems to work (based on my understanding of alchemical concepts). A spell/potion/any other piece of magic requires 3 things:

Intent - What - The intention and will of the caster to disarm their opponent.

Form - How - The way the spell should do it, make the wand fly from the openent's hand.

Energy - Magic - the power to fuel the spell.

Intent and energy must exist. Accidental magic is basically just intent and energy without the form, hence why it's usually so unpredictable and so few wizards can control it. The form is the part that changes the most between magical disciplines. It's what gives focus to that intention and makes the spell controlled. This is waving your wand while saying an incantation. This is mixing a potion counterclockwise.

The thing is, as I said, the form isn't necessary. Not only is it not necessary, it places a limit on what your magic can do and how spells can be used. We see Harry apparating as a child before he knows he's a wizard. Young Tom can control animals (not just snakes) without a spell, just his intent and magic. Lily, similarly floats unaided as a child, something we're told is considered impossible until Voldemort (and later Snape) does it in the books.

And that's why I'm saying Harry's magic makes sense. If your will is strong enough, and you have enough magic to pull it off, the form aspect doesn't really matter. Your magic can do a lot spells just aren't capable of doing (as Harry repeatedly does as I mentioned in the posts I linked above) if you have the will and magic for it. Like, Voldemort, Harry, and Lily you don't need incantations and wand movements.

(Dumbledore probably could too, he has the magic for it, but I think he's too controlled for that. I think after Grindelwald and his sister he's so terrified of losing control of his magic that he doesn't really see it as an option. I think the concept scared him until Lily's sacrificial magic (which is this instinctual magic that isn't really a spell) when he saw it can do good, but I digress.)

Now, there are two other factors that are occasionally required for magic as I mentioned in the post I linked. These are:

4. Emotion

That's what the Patronus Charm requires — happiness. But it's also what the Unforgivable Curses require, after all:

“You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain — to enjoy it — righteous anger won’t hurt me for long...

(OotP, Ch36)

And we see repeatedly that emotion can change how spells behave. Spells cast with emotion don't act like spells cast with just the 3 base components.

The alternative to emotion as the fourth component is:

4. Focus/clear mind

This is what Snape is talking about for Occlumency. Like the Unforgivable, it requires a particular mindset, but it's the opposite mindset. Instead of emotion, you need none. You need a clear mind.

So what Harry is doing when practicing his "Occlumency" isn't Occlumency at all, but a new piece of magic Harry invented and has no idea he invented. He invented an emotion-based magical defence to your mind and he has no idea. Becouse Occlumency, by definition, requires the absence of emotion — that same emotion Harry actively uses to protect his mind.

So, yes, I think Harry could resist the effects of Veritaserum, but it's not going to be thanks to Occlumency, but thanks to the emotion-based mind protection Harry does that has nothing to do with Occlumency. I mean, Dumbledore doesn't ever call it Occlumency:

“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries,” interrupted Dumbledore, “that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.”

(OotP, Ch37)

He considers it a sign of Harry's specialness (which it is). Dumbledore is aware what Harry did is not Occlumency. Harry just misunderstood Dumbledore and now he thinks Occlumency works with emotion.

(That being said, what Harry did is a bit more complicated than how Dumbledore phrases it here, and really an emotion like anger or spite would work just as well as grief or love, and it was mostly because Harry kicked Voldemort out subconsciously and not that Voldemort is allergic to love. But, the point is, no one but Harry thinks it's Occlumency)

I think it could be really funny if post-books someone asks Harry how he learned Occlumency since he's such a good Occlumence and he reveals it's all about emotion, and everyone blinks at him, like: "Mr. Potter, that's not how this works..."

Harry: "What do you mean? It clearly works,"

Them: "Eh..."

And that's how Harry invents a new piece of magic that's an alternative to Occlumency by accident.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #harry james potter #hp magical theory #asks #anonymous #harry potter's crazy magic #I will never tire of talking about this #my best boy hjp

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