#jiyeon; thread

[mndstom]

continued from here with @vicletnight

Fingers laced together, a smile playing on her lips, Jiyeon walks next to the man who has recently brought her happiness and has started to give her butterflies with the smallest actions he does. It sometimes causes her to chuckle when she recalls the days when people would warn her about him, and he has proven those people wrong. Or maybe it's a big game for him. The female slightly shakes her head to get rid of the thoughts, and her attention turns to the building they have arrived at when she hears his quiet voice next to her ear, a somewhat amused smile tugging onto her lips because of his question. Even when the setting was a date, she wouldn't call it their first date. At least not an official one. But she still nods to his questions. How can she forget such a day when she was treated like a princess? Dark hues follow him, eventually turning back to the store that seems to sell luxury brands, her eyes widen out of surprise when Jaeseong reveals his plans. "Huh?!" She should have expected it, but it still surprised her. "Anything?"

[mndstom]

The excitement inside her hasn't disappeared, but it grows when he reveals they're close to their destination. It causes her to wiggle in her seat a little. "Okay, but now that we're closer, can you tell where we are going?" Jiyeon loves surprises, but she also wants to immediately know what and where the surprise is. Especially now when Kiyong has planned something for their first date. She's just a little impatient sometimes. She's not a huge fan of waiting things. "At least give me a little tease. Other than the place looking beautiful during the night."

“  yeah,  you  know  me  and  how  i  ride  around  when  i  can.  ”  he  liked  going  places,  especially  if  it  was  something  recommended  by  a  client.  the  country  was  huge  and  there  were  so  many  places  he  had  yet  to  see.  it  wasn’t  ideal  that  he  would  go  on  his  own  but  oftentimes  when  he  couldn’t  sleep  and  was  left  with  his  thoughts,  he  would  hop  onto  his  bike  and  go  explore.  with  his  gaze  returning  to  the  road,  kiyong  couldn’t  help  the  wide  smile  that  danced  on  his  lips.  he  was  feeling  giddy  to  spend  time  with  jiyeon  now  that  their  feelings  were  no  longer  hidden.  “  we’ll  be  there  soon! 

[mndstom]

continued from here with @wcvensouls

A little worry - bug hit Jiyeon when her friend didn't answer the spam messages she sent to him. Yes, if she spams someone with messages and they haven't replied to them in a day or two, she will get worried ( she doesn't spam people often, she doesn't want to be annoying ). And if her one phone call is ignored, she will be knocking on the door. She's a worrier. She worries over the people she cares about.

And when she sees Seungjae's appearance, her worry grows bigger. To his answer, she shakes her head. Only if he ends up pushing her away, she will leave him alone, and even then, she will be reluctant to do so. "Get inside your apartment, dumbo." An insult that is said in an endearing manner, no harm meant in her words. "You don't have to talk. I will make food for you, and I will just... Be there. Make sure things are actually okay."

[mndstom]

closed starter for @fadinglights

There are butterflies in her stomach. Good butterflies. It's been a long time since Jiyeon has gone on a date with someone, and even when they decided to go on a simple lunch date, it's still making the butterflies fly in her stomach. It's rare for her to keep in touch with someone she met in a club, but Ariel? She wants to get to know her more. She's holding the phone in her hand, nervously looking at the time which is slowly ticking towards the time they told each other to meet. She's an early bird. She prefers to be early than late. It gives her enough time to calm her nerves while waiting, and when she sees the female approaching her, a smile tugs on her lips. "Hello! Before you even think of apologizing for being late, you're not. And I didn't wait that long."

[rcderick]

‘˖ starter para @untouchzble — nado com sereias

— Está me dizendo que tem mesmo sereias lá embaixo? — Perguntou, ainda desconfiado, olhando fixamente para a água cristalina. — Uma vez eu vi um post no Facebook sobre sereias. Elas eram horrorosas! Tipo, medonhas mesmo. Se for assim eu não quero nadar com essas coisas. E se elas tentarem nos afogar? — Não que estivesse com medo, mas uma coisa era lidar com príncipes e princesas, outra era confiar em seres mágicos para proteger a sua vida debaixo d’água. — Que tal a gente pegar um bronzeado antes? Faz tempo que não aproveito uma praia assim. — Sugeriu, tirando a camisa antes que ficasse com marcas ridículas daquelas mangas bufantes.

[mndstom]

A giggle manages to leave her once she hears Lihua's answer, and she moves her hand to cover her mouth, hiding the smile from her lips. When the other suggests she can arrange one to drive her home, Jiyeon quickly shakes her head. "No need!" The female says, her smile still evident on her facial features when she drops her hand. "Uber is enough for me, really." She adds before feeling the cheeks of hers heating up, redness appearing on her cheeks when the other female brushes her hair. "Okay, you know the mall that's near this location?" And just in case, she takes her phone to put the name of the mall on Google and show the location to her.

❝ no, it isn't a limo, ❞ lihua answers with a laugh, a flirtatious twinkle in her eye. ❝ but i'm sure i can arrange one to drive you home, if that's what you'd like. ❞ it's equal parts nepotism and her own hard work that have filled her bank account so thoroughly. what difference do a few shopping sprees or lifts in fancy cars make? lihua dares to shift a little closer to jiyeon, still far enough apart that no one around them would suspect anything, but close enough for her to run elegant fingers softly through jiyeon's hair. ❝ we can go wherever you like, beautiful. ❞

[thegunshee]

coffe break ;

with @rainyjiyeon at café nebulosa.

Gunil tava todo derretido em cima da mesa parecendo uma minhoquinha, mexendo no longo canudo de metal pra misturar o gelo e o café no copão de vidro. — E ai deu nisso. Todo mundo brigou porque o cara que é o baixista - lembra dele? - largou o ensaio pra ir pra um encontro. E tipo, nada contra ir pro encontro, mas o ensaio tava marcado primeiro! — Ele levantou o rosto fazendo uma careta indignada pra alfa, pra ver se ela concordava com a história. — E ai você marca o encontro no dia do ensaio e avisa que vai faltar meia hora antes? Com todo mundo já lá no estúdio? E ai.... Dai eu mandei todo mundo tomar no cu e vim pra cá.

[lone-esper]

Her Game

Lee Hyunseo/Leeseo × Male Reader

Pussy Eating, Squirting, A Little Bit Of Thigh Fucking, Pussy Fuck, Creampie

3,202 Words

I'm experimenting with a longer build-up while focusing more on the situation/story rather than the smut scenes. Honestly, I am a little dissatisfied but oh well, tell me what you guys think if you would.

The click of the locker room door feels unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet.

Just moments ago, the space had been a low hum of activity. Jiyeon, Leeseo’s ever-present manager, was fussing over a loose thread on her costume, while Leeseo herself was slumped dramatically in a chair, fanning her face and letting out exaggerated sighs. Now, there’s only you and her.

“It's so hot,” she whined, her voice dripping with a carefully crafted exhaustion that didn’t quite reach her bright, watchful eyes. “Jiyeon unnie, I’m so, so thirsty. But not for water. For that special strawberry milk from the big convenience store three blocks away. The one with the little cartoon bear? Please? I can’t perform my best without it.”

Jiyeon hesitated, glancing at the clock, but one look at Leeseo’s perfected pout had her grabbing her purse and keys. “Alright, alright, you little diva. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You,” she said, pointing a stern finger at you, “keep an eye on her. Make sure she rests.”

And then, the click.

You’re the new guy on the security detail, barely a few months into the job. Your primary role is crowd control and creating a buffer, but for solo schedules like this, you’re also a glorified assistant, a presence meant to deter any sasaengs and handle minor logistics.

You’ve been trying to keep your head down, to be professional, invisible. You spend your time in the corners of rooms, like you are now, arranging equipment cases and neatly folding discarded towels. You're aware of her, of course.

It’s impossible not to be. She’s Leeseo, the giant baby of the group, all long limbs and dazzling smiles.

You’ve seen her on stage, a whirlwind of charisma, and you’ve seen her off stage, a master of cute antics, constantly clinging to her unnies or charming the staff with a well-timed pouting.

The silence stretches, and you feel her gaze on your back like a physical touch. You pretend to be absorbed in your task, aligning the water bottles with military precision.

“Oppa.”

Her voice is different now. The whiny, childish edge is gone, replaced by something softer, smokier. It slides down your spine and coils low in your gut. You turn slowly.

She hasn’t moved from her chair, but her posture has changed. She’s no longer slumping. She’s leaning back, one hand braced on the seat, her head tilted. The short skirt she’s wearing for the concept shoot is hiked up slightly, revealing the tops of a pair of delicate, pastel pink stockings.

They disappear high up her thighs, into the shadows beneath the fabric. Her legs are crossed, drawing your eyes to the smooth, honey-toned skin of her calves and the gentle curve of her knees.

“I’m still so tired,” she says, her voice a low murmur. “This costume is so tight.” She uncrosses her legs and lets them fall open just a little. It’s a subtle shift, but it feels like the whole world has tilted on its axis. “My legs feel so cramped in these stockings.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Should I… get you a different chair?” you ask, the words sounding stupid and hollow even to your own ears.

A slow smile plays on her lips. It’s not the bright, innocent smile for the cameras. This one is pure temptation. “No, oppa. I need help with something else.” She pats her thigh, the sound is a soft thump in the silent room. “These stockings. They’re so hard to take off by myself. I’m too tired to bend over.”

Your heart hammers against your ribs. This is a line. A massive, brightly lit, neon-glowing line that your job description, your professionalism, and every ounce of common sense screams at you not to cross. But you’re young, and she is breathtakingly beautiful, and the look in her eyes is not a request. It’s a challenge. A dare.

“Please, oppa?” she asks, her voice dipping into that whiny tone again, but this time it’s a weapon of seduction. She pouts, her bottom lip glistening. “My legs are aching.”

You take a hesitant step forward, and then another. It feels like you’re walking through water. You stop in front of her, your tall frame casting a shadow over her. From this angle, looking down, the view is even more intoxicating.

The skirt seems impossibly short, and her thighs look even more incredible. They are not the stick-thin limbs of some idols; they are full, strong, dancer’s thighs. Meaty, just as you’d imagined, with a soft curve that promises heaven.

“Okay,” you hear yourself say, your voice is suddenly rough.

You kneel. The cold tile floor is a shock to your knees, grounding you for a moment. You are at her mercy, positioned perfectly between her legs. The air is stuffy with her scent, a mix of sweet perfume and her own unique, feminine musk. She shifts in her chair, parting her legs a little wider to give you access.

“They’re attached up here,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the hem of her skirt. “You’ll have to… reach inside.”

Your hand trembles as you reach for the hem of her skirt. The wool is soft beneath your fingertips. You lift it slowly. The pastel pink stocking top comes into view, held in place by a delicate garter strap connected to a lacy band around her thigh. And just above it, the bare, supple skin of her inner thigh. The sight makes the air catch in your lungs.

“Be careful, oppa,” she breathes, a shaky words.

Your fingers brush against her skin as you work the small clasp of the garter. It’s hot. So incredibly hot. She lets out a soft gasp as your knuckles graze the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. You manage to unhook it, and the stocking immediately loses some of its tension.

“Now the other one,” she instructs, her voice barely a whisper.

You repeat the process on her other leg, your movements a little bolder this time. As you unclip the second garter, you let your fingers linger for a fraction of a second too long, feeling the faint, rapid pulse beating beneath her skin. She shivers, a full-body tremor that you can see and feel.

With both garters undone, you grasp the rolled hem of the stocking on her right leg. You begin to peel it down. The nylon whispers against her skin as you reveal her thigh, her knee, her calf. You roll it carefully all the way down, over her ankle, and off her foot. Her bare leg is flawless, glowing in the artificial light of the room. You set the stocking aside and reach for the other one.

As you begin to roll the second one down, she stops you. Her hand covers yours, pressing it firmly against her thigh.

“Wait,” she says, her eyes dark and hazy with yearning. “You’re so kind, oppa. So handsome, too.” She leans forward, her other hand coming up to cup your jaw. Her thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I’ve seen you.”

You can’t speak. You can only stare into her eyes as she leans closer still.

“I’m so wet, oppa,” she confesses. She shifts her hips, a small movement that makes the fabric of her panties rustle. “Ever since you walked in today. I sent Jiyeon-unnie away for you.”

Her confession shatters the last of your resistance. This isn’t an accident. It’s a calculated, desperate seduction. And it’s working.

“She thinks I’m such a kid,” Leeseo continues, a bitter edge to her tone. “They all do. But I’m not. I’m a woman. And I want you.” She guides your hand from her thigh, moving it deliberately towards the apex of her legs. She places your palm flat against her crotch, right over the thin cotton of her panties.

It’s completely soaked. You can feel the damp heat through the fabric, a shocking, undeniable proof of her arousal. She moans low and presses herself against your hand.

“Please, oppa,” she begs, her facade of control crumbling into raw, open need. “I need you to taste me. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

The request, so blunt and needy, sends a jolt of lust through you. You don’t need any more convincing. You lean forward, your nose brushing against the damp fabric of her panties. The scent is intoxicating—sweet, musky, and utterly Leeseo. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pull them off.

Her pussy is a revelation. Plump, pink lips, glistening with a creamy, white wetness. They are dewy and slick, already weeping for you. She gasps as the cool air hits her exposed flesh. Without a second thought, you lower your head and press your mouth on her cunt.

She screams, a sharp, choked sound that is quickly muffled as she presses a hand to her mouth. Her hips buck wildly. The taste of her is even more addictive than her scent. You lick up her cream, savouring the flavour as you explore her folds and ridges with your tongue. You find her clit, a hard little pearl hidden beneath its hood, and you lave it with attention.

“Oppa! Oh, god, oppa, yes!” she cries into her hand, her body convulsing.

She grabs fistfuls of your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you closer, grating herself against your mouth with a frantic energy. Her wetness floods your mouth. She's getting closer, her moans becoming more desperate, her breathing ragged.

You work your tongue faster, harder, determined to give her what she wants. With a piercing cry, she comes apart, her body seizing in a powerful orgasm, her inner walls clenching and releasing as she overflows your mouth with her climax.

She slumps back in the chair, boneless and panting, her eyes glazed over. You pull back slowly, your chin and lips slick with her juices. You look up at her, and she gives you a dazed, grateful smile.

But you’re not done. Her orgasm has pushed you over the edge. The bulge in your pants is now a painful, throbbing ache. You stand up, your movements are urgent. Leeseo’s eyes widen as she takes in the prominent shape of your huge cock straining against the fabric of your trousers.

“Oppa…” she breathes, her eyes full of awe and hunger.

You don’t waste time with words. You undo your belt and unzip your pants, freeing your erection. It springs out, thick, long, and lubricates with a bead of precum at the tip. Leeseo licks her lips, her gaze fixed on it.

“It’s so big,” she whispers reverently.

She’s still waiting and open for you, her thighs trembling. But you want to feel those amazing thighs wrapped around you first.

“Could you, uhh, wrap your legs around my neck,” you hesitate.

She obeys instantly, her dancer’s flexibility allowing her to hook her ankles behind your head. You position between her legs and push your hips forward. The head of your cock presses against her wet folds, but instead of pushing in, you slide up, rubbing the length of your shaft between her plump, wet labia and up against her still-sensitive clit.

Her head tosses back. “Oh, that feels so good!”

You hug her legs close, sinking your cock between her meaty thighs. They grip you tightly, her wetness and your precum making an easing, hot sheath for you. You fuck her thighs, your beat hard and fast, the sound of your skin slapping hers echoing in the room. She moans with every thrust, her hands gripping the sides of her chair, her knuckles white.

“Please, oppa, put it inside me,” she begs, her voice broken. “I need to feel your cock inside me. All of it. Pretty please~”

Her plea is your command. You pull back, the head of your cock hovering at her entrance. She is so wet, so ready for you. You push forward, and the thick crown of your cock slips inside her. She cries out, a mix of discomfort and pleasure. She’s tight, so wonderfully, virginally tight.

“You’re so tight, Leeseo,” you groan, pushing deeper.

You fill her completely, stretching her, burying to the hilt inside her. You’re both panting, staring at each other in a moment of sheer, primal connection. Then you begin to move.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. You pull almost all the way out before slamming back into her, hitting her inner walls with every deep thrust. She screams your name, no longer bothering to muffle the sound.

Her legs are wrapped around your waist now, her heels digging into your back. The skirt is bunched up around her waist, a ridiculous accessory to the raw, hardcore fuck you’re giving her.

“Faster, oppa! Harder!” she cries, meeting your thrusts with her own.

You’re both lost in a haze of lust. The world has shrunk to this locker room, to the feeling of her hot, wet pussy milking your cock, to the sound of her ecstatic screams, her needy expression. Your climax building, a deep, hot pressure in your balls. You lean down and kiss her, a rough, sloppy kiss, your tongues tangling as you pound into her relentlessly.

“I’m going to cum, Leeseo—Shit…”

“Me too! Come inside me, oppa! Fill me up!”

Her words are all you need. Grunting low, you unload deep inside her, your body shuddering with the force of your discharge. She screams as your hot seed floods her, her own orgasm shaking her to the core, her inner walls clenching around your cock in a final, blissful spasm.

You collapse on top of her, your forehead resting on hers, both of you panting and cover in thin sweat. The silence returns, broken only by your ragged breaths. After a minute, you slowly, reluctantly, pull out of her. Her juices and your cum spill out, dribbling down the crack of her ass.

She looks at the mess, then up at you, a wicked, satisfied smile spreading across her face.

“That was amazing, oppa,” she says, her voice satisfyingly husky. She reaches out and traces a finger along your jaw. “This will be our little secret. Right?”

Just then, her phone, lying on a nearby bench, buzzes. A message from Jiyeon. ‘On my way back up! They were out of the bear one so I got the one with the kitten. Hope that’s okay!’

Leeseo giggles, a sound that is both innocent and deeply corrupt. “You better get dressed, oppa,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Unnie will be here any second.”

Your mind is a feedback loop of pure static. The message from Jiyeon registers somewhere in the distance, a foghorn from a world you no longer inhabit. This room, right now, is its own universe, smelling of sex and her sweet perfume.

You're still breathing heavily, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. You quickly, clumsily, tuck yourself away and zip your pants, the metal teeth seeming deafeningly loud.

Leeseo, however, moves with a calm grace that is terrifying. She swings her legs off the chair, standing up without a hint of a wobble. A single, pearlescent trail of your mixed fluids runs down the inside of her thigh. She doesn't wipe it away with panic. Instead, she grabs a makeup wipe from the vanity, her movements fluid and practised.

She carefully cleans herself, then smooths down her plaid skirt, adjusting it until it sits perfectly on her hips. With a few deft pats and pulls, she erases any evidence of your frantic, quick-fucking climax. She picks up the discarded stockings from the floor, folds them neatly, and places them in her bag.

In the space of thirty seconds, she transforms. The flushed, screaming, climax-ridden girl is gone, replaced once more by Leeseo, the idol, poised and ready. She glances at her reflection in the mirror, fluffing her hair, and patting her cheeks to even out the colour. There is no trace of the debauched woman who just begged you to fill her up, save for the deep, knowing glint in her eyes when they meet yours in the mirror.

She turns to you. The room is still dense with the realization of what you've just done. A career-ending, life-altering act of utter madness. The panic is beginning to bubble in your chest, cold and sharp. What if Jiyeon notices something? The smell? Your flushed faces? What if Leeseo regrets this and tells someone? Your life as you know it would be over.

As if reading your spiralling thoughts, she closes the distance between you, stepping right into your personal space. She rises onto her tiptoes, her lips brushing against your ear. Her breath is hot, and sweet, sending another shiver down your spine, but this one is laced with ice.

"Don't worry so much, oppa," she whispers, her voice a low, conspiratorial hum that is for you and you alone. "I took a pill this morning."

She pulls back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She gives your chest a playful little pat, right over your frantically beating heart.

The words detonate silently in the space between you. A pill.

It wasn't just a crime of passion. It wasn't a spontaneous, reckless moment that swept you both away. For you, maybe. But for her... it was premeditated.

She woke up this morning, this eighteen-year-old girl, and planned for this possibility. She planned to seduce you. She planned to have you fuck her raw. She took a pill to erase the most significant consequence, a calculated move in a game you didn't even realize you were playing until you had already lost.

You just stand there completely dumbfounded. Your mind struggles to catch up, to process the sheer audacity, the cold-blooded foresight of it all. You look at her, really look at her, and you no longer see the whiny kid or even the seductive woman from moments ago. You see a terrifyingly intelligent, determined individual who gets exactly what she wants, with contingencies in place.

The doorknob turns.

Jiyeon bustles in, holding up a small carton of milk with a cartoon kitten on it. "They were out of the bear! But the kitten is just as good for our superstar, right?" she says, her voice bright and blissfully unaware.

"Thank you, unnie! You're the best!" Leeseo chirps, her voice instantly reverting back to its cute, childish pitch. She takes the milk and gives Jiyeon a quick side hug.

Your world spins back into focus, harsh and terrifyingly clear. You're standing in the corner, your pants hastily fastened, the scent of her climax still faint in the air, your cock still aching with the memory of her tightness.

She shoots you one last glance over Jiyeon's shoulder. It's quick, just a flash, but it's filled with everything: their shared secret, her victory, and a promise of more to come. Then she turns away, completely absorbed in her conversation with her manager about the next filming set.

You remain frozen, a statue in the corner of the room.

What the fuck did you just do?

Seriously. What in the absolute fuck did you just do?

[mndstom]

She covers her mouth with her free hand to giggle against it, picturing him practicing his lines in front of his mirror. The image in her head is amusing, which is why she coughs a little to prevent herself from giggling more, and she scratches her nose, the smile on her lips still evident. "Now I kind of want to see it." This is what she needed. Laughter. And probably not knowing it, Jaeseong is good at making her laugh. Her smile turns into a warm one when his lips press onto her knuckles, and she can feel her cheeks heating up despite the cool air. It still amazes Jiyeon how she is the one who got the infamous playboy to settle down. At least, that's what her friends whispered to her before she got to know him properly. And now there she is, trusting him to the point of sharing her feelings and thoughts. She can only smile at him and nod when hearing his question, squeezing his hand again. Geez. She might be in love.

A soft laugh escaped him at her words, head tipping just slightly to the side as he turned to face her more fully. “Cliché, you say?” he cooed, the corner of his mouth tugging into a playful smirk. “I’ll have you know I practiced that line in the mirror for a week.” He gave her hand another squeeze with a slight wink, as if silently promising her that none of this was too much. But the teasing softened just as quickly as it came, his gaze lingering on the curve of her smile—the one that had been missing earlier, and that he missed more than he realized until he saw it again. Gently, he lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his touch slow, unhurried. “I like seeing you like this,” he murmured, the words quieter now, meant just for her. “Not just because you're smiling, but because you’re being honest with me. I want that more than anything.” The headlights from their car caught the pavement in front of them, but Jaeseong didn’t move yet. His thumb brushed lightly across the back of her hand, his voice steady when he finally added, “you ready to go somewhere that feels more like us?”

[aajjks]

it’s long 😬😅

TPOL!JK

jungkook’s past is sad and only holds pain, loss, and insanity. it plays over and over like a bad dream, and his source of peace is you, his calm to weather the storms. you listen as jungkook reminds you of that pain, the reason he doesn’t desire children, and you empathize with his pain.

however, that shouldn’t rob you of continuing your bloodline. you can imagine the smile on your mother’s face when you hand her the gift bag containing pictures of your baby’s ultrasound, but that vision isn’t complete with jungkook by your side.

if jungkook isn’t there, she’ll be so disappointed in you, but you don’t tell jungkook that. by the time your eyes meet with his, he’s walking out the door, leaving you alone with a mess you never made by yourself. by the time he comes back, he’ll want to hear your agreement, but the longer you stare at the black-and-white picture on the bed, you lean further and further away.

*knock knock* “hello ms. y/n,” greets dr. seong mi-na. “so, you’re good to go. i prescribed you some medicines that will help with your nausea and prenatal vitamins. also, no more caffeine. no sodas, coffee—nothing. you want to drink as much water as you can and look into foods that are beneficial for your pregnancy.” you place your hand over your heart when she tells you, ‘no more caffeine.’ you suppose this is where you tell the doctor about jungkook’s ‘choice,’ but you don’t.

“any more questions for me?”

“yeah…the-the baby is trying to hurt me, right?”

“the baby is trying to hurt you. your body is changing and preparing to make room for your embryo. what you’re feeling are the early signs of pregnancy symptoms: morning sickness, fatigue, changes in mood, constipation, cramps, spotting—the list goes on, but it varies”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you mumble to yourself as you place your head into your hands and sigh. sensing your distress, the doctor takes your hands in hers and looks you in the eye. “hey, i know this is a lot, and i can tell this pregnancy was unplanned, but i promise you, the journey is so rewarding. what you have inside you is a baby that will bring so much light into your life and fill you with joy. of course, if you do not want the child, you can have an abortion and be better prepared next time.”

but what if there isn’t a ‘next time?’

you appreciate the doctor’s encouraging words and thank her for reminding you that joy can sometimes come with pain, but it’s all temporary. this little ball of sunshine inside you is the light jungkook needs, a reminder that he is nothing like the monster who raised him.

you change your clothes and take the elevator to the pharmacy on the second floor, and yes, you’re keeping the baby.

~🫧

Jungkook steps into the cold, sterile halls of the mental institution, his usual calm veneer cracking with every step.

He just wants to be in his arms of his mother right now.

This is not a place where she deserves to be…

The air feels heavy, almost suffocating, as the faint murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of trays echo through the corridor.

He stops outside the familiar door, his hand hovering over the handle as his chest tightens.

Behind that door is Jeon Jiyeon, his 어머니 (mother), a woman whose once-vivid spirit has been eroded by tragedy.

When he finally pushes the door open, he’s met with the sight of her sitting by the window, her frail figure bathed in moonlight.

Her hands tremble slightly as she folds and refolds the edge of her blanket.

She turns her head at the sound of his entrance, her eyes dim yet flickering with recognition. “Jungkook-ah,” she says softly, her voice like a fragile thread threatening to snap.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing a small smile. “Eomeoni, how are you feeling today?” He approaches her slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jiyeon tilts her head, studying him like she’s trying to piece together a memory.

“You’ve grown so much,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a faint smile.

“So much like your brother… Junghyun.” Her expression falters, her brows knitting together as her mind drifts. “But he’s not here.. He’s busy just like you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens as he kneels beside her, taking her fragile hands in his. “No, eomeoni, it’s me. I’m here,” he reassures her, his voice trembling. “I came to see you.”

Her gaze sharpens momentarily, her hand moving to touch his face.

“You’re always so busy, my son. Always working, always running… You don’t need to be like your father,” she whispers, her words cutting through him like a blade.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says firmly, though his voice wavers. “I’m nothing like him.”

Jiyeon blinks, confusion clouding her expression again. “Your father is so cold. So cruel… He took everything from me. And Junghyun… he tried to protect us, didn’t he? But it wasn’t enough.”

She begins to shake, her voice rising with panic. “I couldn’t save him, Jungkook. I couldn’t save any of you.”

Jungkook grips her hands tighter, his own trembling now. “Stop, eomeoni. Please, stop,” he says, his voice breaking. “You didn’t fail. None of this was your fault.”

Tears well up in her eyes as she looks at him, her mind wavering between the past and present.

“You’re all I have left,” she whispers. “But I see the pain in your eyes, Jungkook. Don’t let it consume you like it did him. Promise me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw clenching as he fights back his own tears. Finally, he nods. “I’ll try, eomeoni. I’ll try.”

For a moment, the room is silent, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them.

Jiyeon leans back into her chair, exhaustion taking over, and Jungkook stays by her side, holding her hand like a lifeline.

•••

But she needs to know he’s been talking to her for half an hour.

She can help him.

Jungkook exhales deeply, his trembling hands resting on his knees as he prepares himself to speak. Looking at his 어머니,

Jiyeon, he notices her fleeting moments of clarity, the way her eyes sometimes pierce through the fog of her mind. Tonight, he hopes she’ll understand.

“Eomeoni,” he begins softly, his voice low but steady. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “Yn… she’s pregnant.”

At first, Jiyeon doesn’t react, her gaze fixed on the window as if she didn’t hear him. But then her head slowly turns, her eyes locking with his.

There’s a flicker of surprise, followed by something deeper—recognition.

“Pregnant?” she whispers, the word barely audible.

“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, his heart hammering against his ribs. “She’s carrying my child. Your grandchild.” The words feel foreign in his mouth, almost surreal.

A faint smile graces Jiyeon’s lips, and for a moment, she seems entirely lucid. “She’s good for you, Jungkook. So gentle, so kind.”

Her voice grows softer, tinged with a warmth he hadn’t heard in years. “You love her, don’t you?”

Jungkook stiffens, his throat tightening. “I do,” he admits, the confession leaving him vulnerable. “I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But, eomeoni,”

his voice cracks, “I don’t know how to be a father. I don’t think I can do this.”

Jiyeon’s eyes widen slightly, and her hand reaches out, trembling, to touch his face.

“You think you’ll be like him,” she says, her voice filled with sorrow. “You think you’ll fail.”

He closes his eyes, her words hitting the very core of his fears. “I’m not ready,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I never wanted this.”

“And because of me, because of this… she fainted, eomeoni. Her health—what if something happens to her? What if I can’t protect them?”

He’s breaking…. He doesn’t know what to do.

Jiyeon’s expression softens, and for the first time in years, she seems entirely present. “Listen to me, Jungkook,” she says, her tone firm but tender.

“You are not your father. You have love in your heart, even if you don’t see it. That girl… yn… she is your anchor.”

She’s right about that, but…

“She will guide you if you let her. And that baby… it is not a curse. It’s a gift. A part of you and her, something pure amidst all this pain.”

He looks at her, his chest tightening as emotions threaten to overwhelm him. “But what if I fail? What if I hurt them?”

Jiyeon shakes her head, her frail hand cupping his cheek. “You won’t,” she says softly.

“Because you already love her enough to worry. You already care enough to fear. That’s more than he ever gave us.”

Her voice falters, her own pain bubbling to the surface.

“Don’t let your past steal this from you, Jungkook. Don’t let it take them away like it took Junghyun.”

Her words strike him deeply, and he lowers his head, the weight of her understanding pressing on him. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” Jiyeon says firmly, her strength surprising him. “Because you have her. And because you are my son.”

She doesn’t understand…

The room falls into a heavy silence, Jiyeon’s breaths growing slower as exhaustion takes over.

Jungkook stays by her side, gripping her hand tightly as his thoughts swirl. Her words linger in his mind, battling with his doubts.

Finally, Jiyeon speaks again, her voice faint.

“Don’t push her away, Jungkook-ah. Don’t let fear take what little happiness you have left.”

Jungkook nods, though his heart is still heavy. “Rest now, eomeoni,” he whispers.

“I’ll stay a little longer.” As she closes her eyes, he leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything crashes down on him.

Even she doesn’t understand…

•••

It’s past midnight when Jungkook unlocks the door to his penthouse, stepping into the silence that greets him.

The lights are dim, and the cityscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows glimmers faintly.

Where the fuck are you? How could he even leave you like that at the hospital?

He loosens his tie with one hand while the other clenches his phone.

“Yn?” he calls out, his voice sharp, almost frantic. “Yn, where are you?”

He paces through the living room, his heart pounding as he checks the kitchen, the hallway, the bedroom.

The thought of not finding you where you should be gnaws at his chest.

Finally, he spots you curled up on the sofa in the corner of the room, a blanket draped over you.

Relief floods him, but it’s short-lived. You look so small, so fragile, and he can see the faint shadows under your eyes.

“Why didn’t you answer?” he asks, his tone stern but trembling at the edges. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

You sit up, startled by his intensity, but his eyes soften when they meet yours.

He kneels in front of you, his large hands cupping your face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “You’re not… feeling faint again, are you?”

You shake your head, trying to reassure him, but he doesn’t look convinced.

His thumb brushes against your cheek as he studies your face, his brows furrowing.

“You scared me, yn,” he admits, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard.

When you murmur a soft apology, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if you might slip away.

His lips press against the crown of your head, lingering there as he closes his eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

“Yn… but… I need to ask you what is your decision?”

[duskterrace]

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[rcderick]

‘˖ starter para @untouchzble — discoteca nas estrelas

Desde pequeno, Roderick nunca lidou bem com despedidas. Até mesmo quando foi preso, pediu que sua mãe e irmãos não chorassem ou sentissem sua falta, que apenas continuasse suas vidas, porque isso traria muito mais paz a ele. Quando veio parar nesse mundo encantado achou que não teria tempo de se apegar ao lugar ou aquelas pessoas, mas agora que sabia que teria que partir, sentia uma mistura de melancolia e injustiça. A verdade era que ele não estava em clima para festas, porém ao cruzar os olhos com Dove no meio de todas aquelas pessoas, um sorriso tomou a sua face. — Você está linda. — Comentou, mesmo aquilo não sendo nenhuma novidade para ela. Devido a sua péssima sorte, ele vestia trajes de camponês, mas ainda assim tentou compensar com seu charme. — Devíamos tirar uma daquelas fotos. — Apontou para a cabine. Sabia que não havia nada que pudesse fazer para lembrar daquele sorriso que volta e meia alugava um espaço em sua mente, porém ainda podiam se divertir enquanto havia tempo. — Quem sabe uma falha na matriz não permita que eu leve essa foto comigo de volta para a cadeia? Vou te procurar daqui a uns dez anos e provar que um dia você já me deu mole. — Provocou de forma divertida, apenas porque não queria pensar que aquele poderia ser a última vez que se veriam. 

[mndstom]

It's very unlikely for Jiyeon to go to another country with someone she barely knows. In fact, it's been a while since she has been to another country, traveling. It was one of those moments when she didn't really think about the consequences when she hit Jiseok up. Only after the message was sent, it occurred to her what she has done and then it was too late to take it back.

Does she regret it? No. Absolutely not. She did her research ( looked at his profile, scrolled through the pictures that were there ), and asked important questions before meeting him at the airport. And when they got to their first destination, to the room they would share, she didn't have any regrets. He seems like a cool guy who doesn't want to waste the money he spent.

Her attention turns to the man when she hears his voice and a smile tugs to her lips while she shakes her head. "I'm surprised you don't think I'm insane." After all, she's the one who had to announce she shares the same name as his ex and had to introduce herself, show she's not a crazy girl.

"So far I'm not disappointed and I'm sure this will be fun. I mean... I can give my full review once I get to taste what's in the breakfast buffet, but so far I don't regret anything."

muse: han ji-seok ( main verse; modern ).. 20s. photographer and aspiring filmmaker. open to: female / 25+. plot: okay did you hear that story about this guy who was going to take his girlfriend on a trip around the world, but she broke up with him but the plane tickets were nonrefundable so he had to find a girl with the same name as his ex (it was on the ticket), he ended up posting about it online and people with the same name contacted him and he picked one out of the handful and so he's going on a trip around the world with a stranger. starter tag: @indiestarter notes: replies will be posted as new threads for tracking purposes. please don't feel like you have to match length - I ramble.

Ji-Seok set his camera bag down gently on the edge of the hotel bed, exhaling as he took a quick glance around the room. It wasn’t the luxurious romantic suite he’d once envisioned for this trip, but it was comfortable—neutral, like the stranger standing just a few feet away from him, unpacking their own things.

The silence between them wasn’t exactly awkward, but it was far from easy. Ji-Seok rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions still lingering from the whirlwind decision to bring them here.

"This is… surreal," he said finally, his voice breaking the quiet as he unzipped his suitcase. He glanced over at them, a faint, self-conscious smile tugging at his lips. "I mean, a week ago, I didn’t even know you existed, and now we’re unpacking in a hotel room halfway across the world together."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothes. "You sure you don’t think I’m completely insane for dragging you into this?" His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge of genuine curiosity in the question.

Ji-Seok paused for a moment, his hands resting on the edge of the suitcase as he looked at them more directly. "I know this isn’t exactly… normal," he admitted, his smile softening, "but I figured it’s better than letting the tickets go to waste. And hey, maybe it’ll make a good story someday."

[sharpesteeth]

#SHARPESTEETH 　　⸻　　DUAL MUSE blog for ANCHORAGEHQ , written by tiff ( she/they , 29 , autistic )

CURRENT MUSES　　⸻　　:

★— HYEONG EUNJI ( park jiyeon ) intro , threads , meta , connections

★— AKIMOTO REI ( myoui mina ) intro , threads , meta , connections

[mournfulminds]

╱ starter for ❪ @lavenderrpages​ ❫ .

It was an unexpected invitation for James and most likely last-minute on the other's end (not that she minded), for it had been days since she had holed up in her at-home office, working past any sensible hour, to make her deadline. Piles of boxes, both delivery and takeout had shielded most surfaces, sans for the endless sketches and swaths of fabric that were laying around in an erratic bearing, a not-so-subtle tribute to her success. "It is a party at my office to boost moral or some bs, I don't know why you are so excited, it's going to be a bunch of boring lawyers," Hoon said as they were on their way up the elevator, James perhaps a bit overdressed, though she claimed that work was not in her terminology, since she knew one could never look too good. In truth, he had asked her so he did not have to go alone, having just gone through a hellish breakup. And he had a colleague who was quietly waiting to ask him out, unable to reject her and make things awkward, he chose the route of bringing James', and James, well she was just there for the free food and open bar.

When they arrived, the pair got a drink and did a quick lap before Hoon was "abducted" away by some colleagues, for just a conversation with this client, or soon-to-be client, she was not sure which, but she did not care to be a part of the smooze fest, stepping onto the sizable terrace. The darkened sky was surfaced by a sea of stars, quite a lovely canvas, James not seeing, or not caring if there was a "no smoking" sign. The woman was having difficulty getting her lighter to work with the slight breeze when she heard the door open, signalling someone had joined her, either Hoon or someone coming to tell her she could not smoke. "I was holding it for a friend," she quipped, rotating and her features falling when she realised who it was. It was a micro character, more shock than anything as it was replaced with a smile, lissome fingers pulling the cigarette from her lips. "Howdy neighbour... wonderful to see you out here in the wild." A creature of habit, only used to stealing glances of Pyper in the hobby or riding the elevator up and exchanging pleasantries or sunny quips, save for that night in James' place, the scent of rain, lively in her mind.

[luvdivearch]

               leaving adam alone in her apartment while she’d gone on shift had been a nerve-wracking decision. jiyeon doesn’t trust easily, a result of her childhood, and letting someone loose in her home is a big thing for someone like her. especially with seongge to consider as well -- he’s getting old and grumpy, and she wants to make sure his final few years are as peaceful as possible. imagine her surprise, then, when she unlocks her door and finds her grumpy old man of a cat curled up on adam’s lap, fast asleep and showing no signs of waking. ❝ am i interrupting something...? ❞

@duskloved