#well was ig! seeing today's events

[teal-tealwren]

peace and love on planet earth

[hauntingjasper]

Blind as a bat

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[wreckedhoney]

^^ "coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse"

not proshipper not anti but a secret third thing (person who has a career in the media and, through covering legislative politics, has watched "associating with problematic fiction or entertainment is an indicator of moral degeneracy" rapidly become a mainstream GOP position that they are encoding in legislation to target the queer community under the guise of protecting children, thus coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse — the extent and manner to which fiction affects reality is an issue that is immediately relevant to today's US politics, and to summarize my opinions on the matter in fandom terms would be to diminish the ways this debate is affecting america Right The Fuck Now. and i have stopped taking "this person is bad for shipping the wrong anime thing and being horny about it" in any sort of good faith ever since I saw it literally used as part of a GOP smear campaign against a transgender state legislator in an attempt to defend the right from backlash after they used their supermajority in the Montana house to prevent her from speaking on the floor. Anyway I think everyone on this site, especially Americans, could benefit from ceasing to think in proship v anti vocabulary and instead developing coherent political positions on the nature of fiction that do not directly align with current fascist political tactics)

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

[ayochae]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐔𝐩| 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Synopsis: you damage the school bully's car, and now you have to repay her the way she likes.

Pairing: bully! aeri x student! fem reader

Genre: pretty rough smut ig

Themes: exhibitionism, biting, hair pulling, lots of cussing, name-calling, phone sex, fingering, cunnilingus, rough handling, and straight-up humiliation.

T/W: please read before continuing!! dubcon, heavy degrading, and bullying mentioned!

WC: 2.4k

a/n: the themes in this are on the darker side so please be aware before reading! disclaimer this is pure FICTION and not meant to be taken seriously! if you or anyone you know are in a similar situation please reach out and seek help (.づ◡﹏◡)づ. also if this is well received I might make a pt 2 to this :3

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It was the end of the school day, and you were glad to be going home. You were sick of enduring long days of studying and listening to boring lectures, often forgetting to pay attention. You made your way out with the crowd, finding your bike chained exactly as you left it this morning. It was never fun having to ride home, especially in the summer when the humidity was an absolute killer, often leaving you hot and bothered. 

You mounted your bike; it was a sunny afternoon, and the sun's rays were ricocheting off windows and car mirrors, blinding you at times. In an attempt to shield the light from your eyes, your arm was outstretched in front of your face. Consequently, it blocks the majority of your vision. Not the most favourable of conditions for someone riding through a crowded school car park. It would be the worst way to end your day if you were to crash right now. 

And of course, as soon as that thought crosses your mind, it all comes to fruition.

In a split second, your ass meets the rugged concrete. That's the only indication you need to know you’ve just crashed. You struggle to find your footing, shaken up from the event that just occurred. Your eyes hesitantly glaze over your surroundings, seeing that your bike has managed to dent a student's parked car. One look at the licence plate, and your heart sank. You couldn't have hit anyone else's car; of course, you just had to hit Aeri Uchinaga’s. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” you yell out in pure frustration, both hands on top of your head. Your outburst garners some attention; students watch as you cuss to your heart's content.

"Yo, that’s Aeri’s car she’s just fucked up…” a group of boys said amongst themselves. 

“I would think about running if I were you,” the boys laughed. 

“Who should think about running?” A shiver ran down your spine. That voice was the one thing you didn’t want to hear right now. You turned around and locked eyes with the brunette, her menacing features staring your way. Aeri made her way towards you, anxiety pulsing through your veins and leaving your heart racing. She pushed past you like you were nothing, eyeing her car up and down, assessing the damage. 

“Aeri I’m so sorry. Please give me a chance. I’ll pay you bac-” You started to get out an apology before she firmly shut you up. 

“Shut up, bitch,” she cut you off, venom in her tone as she spoke. At this point, people started to crowd around, everyone here to watch you meet your demise. You knew exactly what happened to people who did wrong by Aeri, so let’s just say you were pretty confident you were going to die today.

“Do you know how much that car costs?” She questioned, arms crossed along her chest as she stared daggers in your direction. 

“Um,” your voice wavered.

“More than you’d ever fucking know,” she cuts you off again, clearly not interested in anything you have to say. At this point, you accepted the fact that she was going to beat the ever-living shit out of you. But you were surprised when her fist didn’t meet your face; rather, it gripped your wrist with excessive force. She squeezed you tightly as she dragged you through the crowd. Students had their phones out to record as she pulled you through the swarm of bodies, dragging you back into the school’s main building. She wasted no time finding an empty classroom at the end of the hall, pushing you in, and slamming the door behind her. 

"Strip,” she demanded as you stared at her, dumbfounded at her sudden request. 

"Sorry, I’m not quite following...” you said, hoping that you must’ve misheard. 

“Are you dumb?” her head cocked to the side, glaring at you. 

“I can easily take you back out there and give the people what they want y/n” she added, walking towards you, feeling your breath hitch. You stood there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. Your mind was racing with all the possibilities; there was no way you got out of this unscathed. 

“I know you heard me slut, take your fucking clothes off” she spat, grabbing you firmly by the collar, pushing you hard against the desks behind you. Your body aching from the sudden contact, shaking you back to reality. 

And so you complied, the only thing you were able to do at that moment. Shaky hands travel to your blouse buttons, slowly unbuttoning as Aeri watches. Your pace angered her, growling in frustration as both of her hands grabbed either side of your shirt, ripping it open. The sound of buttons dropping to the floor as a pair of lips connect roughly with yours. Her weight pressed against you as warm hands travelled up your sides, finding your breasts. You quickly pull away from the kiss. A whimper escapes your mouth as her hands squeeze your cladded breasts firmly, discarding your shirt to the floor in the process.

"Aeri, I have to get home” was the only thing you could let out as she continued to fondle you. Not letting your excuses slide, she grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, bending you over the desk. Your face meets the surface hard and fast, letting out a groan from the immediate pain.

“Keep talking, and this is going to get a lot harder for you, sweetheart” she leant over to whisper in your ear, the pet name causing you to moan ever so slightly. She quickly worked on your skirt, pulling it down so you were in nothing but your undergarments. 

"Aeri please, we’re going to get caught,” you muttered, scared shitless to be found like this. 

"Tch, you can’t even follow a simple rule; you really are a dumb slut, aren’t you?” She scoffs, feeling her harsh gaze in the back of your head. 

“I think you're already forgetting that you owe me, y/n” she points out, her hands swiftly unclasping your bra as she speaks. 

“So how about you be a good little slut and listen?” She mocks, tightly gripping you by the hair, pulling you up to face her. Your eyes meet hers, feeling the heartbeat in between your legs. A wave of pain hits your senses as her hand slaps your ass so hard that it's sure to leave a mark. You whimper at the contact, your hips jolting from the sudden force. 

Her hands travel to your waistband, pulling your panties down to your ankles. She gets on her knees and rubs your wet folds from behind, coating her fingers with your slick. You moan from her touch, loving how it felt to have her play with your now-swollen cunt. Her slender fingers tease your entrance as you shake underneath her. Her hands grab your ass as she plunges her face into your pussy, eating you out from behind. Feeling her warm tongue roam along your folds, sucking and licking where she pleased. She planted long, warm stripes with her tongue, nudging your clit as she went. The repetitive action had you senselessly jutting your hips, begging for more friction. 

“Does my little bitch like that?” Aeri hummed, her face still buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Y-yes” you choked out, struggling to form your words amongst the pleasure. She continued teasing your clit, earning shaky moans from you in response. Giggling to herself when you got too loud. You could feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach, gripping the table in desperate support. You were getting close, letting profanities mindlessly slip from your mouth, feeling Aeri smile against your pussy in response.

And that’s when you felt her stop. 

She pulled away, smiling as she licked her slick-covered lips. Wiping the excess on the back of her hand. You shudder from the loss of contact, missing the way her tongue felt. 

“You thought I was gonna let you come that easily?” she teased, flipping you over so you would face her. She locked eyes with you and shook her head with a sarcastic pout on her lips. Trying to get a rise out of you. You knew she was an absolute bitch, but this just took it to a whole new level. 

“Suck,” she said while holding the same fingers she pleasured you with in front of your mouth. Her other hand firmly gripped your jaw, inciting you to open your mouth for her. And so you obliged. You took her fingers, sucking on them eagerly, tasting yourself in the process. Hands wrapped gingerly around hers as you continued to make work of your tongue. Her eyes locked with yours, her mouth sporting a shit-eating grin. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” She cooed mockingly, an eyebrow raised as she watched you suck on her digits. She pulls her fingers out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips to her coated fingertips. Lustful eyes watch the lewd scene unfold in front of you. 

She replaces her fingers with her lips, kissing you firmly again, giving you a complete taste of your release. Your arms are propping you up as she pushes her weight against yours, towering over you in the process. Her hand travelled back down between your thighs, rubbing your dripping cunt, teasing your entrance as she went. Her other hand gripped your inner thigh, keeping your legs open to allow her more room to work. 

You pulled away from the kiss. A breathy moan left your lips as you felt two fingers inserted inside. Your mouth is now ajar from the sudden penetration. Amusement spread across her features as she began pumping her fingers in and out of you, watching you twitch and whine under her. 

"F-fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back, feeling waves of pleasure wash over you. Aeri took this opportunity to attack your neck, biting down hard on the soft flesh. Yelping as teeth dug into your neck, pain shooting down your shoulder as she sucked and bit persistently. Her fingers were still at work, filthy sounds filling the room as she fucked you with more force. Plunging her fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, feeling you clench tight around her.

“That’s so fucking good,” you whine, feeling her smile as she continued leaving angry marks on your neck. Her thumb drew circles on your clit as she fucked you senseless. The desk banged against the wall as her fingers thrust in and out of your sopping pussy, the sounds sure to be heard by others. Your hips shamelessly buck at the tempo of her thrusts, getting closer and closer to your release. 

Until the sound of a ringing phone brought you back down to reality. 

You recognised that ringtone as your own, your eyes searching for the whereabouts of your device. Remembering that you left it in your skirt pocket, watching it vibrate on the floor beneath you. Without missing a beat, Aeri bends down and pulls it out with her unoccupied hand, the other still hard at work inside of you. 

“Nawww mummy’s calling,” Aeri teased, your heart dropping as you watched her handle your phone. 

“Aeri please don't answer that,” you beg, watching her thumb hover over the pick-up button. But of course, it was no use trying to persuade the likes of Aeri Uchinaga, because whatever she wants, she gets. And in this moment, she desperately wanted to ruin your life. 

You helplessly watched her answer the call, immediately putting you on speaker for your mother to hear. Your mother didn’t care for greetings; rather, she demanded your whereabouts and why you weren’t home yet. Your heart raced; it simply wouldn’t do you any favours being truthful at this moment, honesty is sure to get you killed. Lies began to spill from your mouth, hoping it was enough to get her off your case, but Aeri was having none of that. 

Her fingers managed to find a quicker pace, the desk hammering against the wall as she rocked you harder against her digits. Moans slipping out uncontrollably, your hand flying up in an attempt to muffle your sounds. Aeri glared in your direction, unimpressed with your endeavour to foil her plans. She placed the phone above you on the window sill, freeing her hand to trap both of yours, stopping you from muffling your sounds. 

Her fingers curled, hitting that sweet spot, making you squeal in delight. Your mother was sure to hear everything. Your face was heating up, embarrassed but impossibly turned on at the same time. Unfortunately, your mother wasn’t stupid; she was very much aware of what you were doing right now, and she hated everything about it. 

“Y/n get your ass home right this instance!” her voice echoed in anger. Aeri reached up, ending the phone call in one swift motion. You felt hot tears stream down your face, Aeri laughing at your current state, finding joy in breaking you like this. 

“Fuck you,” you let out, hating how powerless you were in this moment. Aeri just continued pushing her fingers deeper inside you, hitting all the right spots as she went. You were unable to choke back the moans, letting the lewd sounds fall out in a flurry. She was fucking your brains out, all frustration and anger dissipated as she curled her fingers inside you. The moans became more frequent and higher-pitched, throwing all self-respect out the window as you whined her name. 

"Mmffh, Aeri please…” you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows furrowed as you felt the knot begin to untie in the pit of your stomach. Her thumb pressing down on your clit and the final curl of her fingers were all you needed to start seeing stars. You shook violently as you came crashing down, her fingers moving inside you at a slow and steady pace, letting you ride it out. 

She removes her hand from your dripping folds and shoves her fingers inside your mouth, swirling them as you taste your sweet release. Her dark eyes locked with yours, her shameless grin not once faltering. You made sure to suck her fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as you release her slender digits. Her hand travels to your jaw, tracing your lips as she eyes you up and down. 

“Get on your knees and make that pretty mouth of yours useful.” 

[itsbeeble]

Enchanted

Summary: You lost each other once, holding out in hopes of crossing paths again. It's almost fate that you do, and Wonwoo doesn't want to let you leave him again

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, exes to lovers

Pairing: Idol!jeon Wonwoo x afab!reader

WC: 4.5k (i got REALLY carried away yall im so sorry)

Series Masterlist

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: hurt comfort, ex high school sweethearts to lovers, mentions of someone trying to get a little too touchy feely with reader so if you aren't comfortable, don't read it (nothing bad happens AT ALL, the guy is just a dumbass, but i figured i would put a warning for all of you), unprotected sex, making out, fingering, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, kinda dom/sub themes again, mentions of drinking, swearing, marking, spanking, Wonwoo likes boobs, sexual tension, mentions of chemistry, idk there's a lot so let me know if i missed something important

Listen to Enchanted by Taylor Swift <3

A/N: Guys i wrote this all today/last night and i'm really proud of it. It's also the first smut fic that's like...i wouldn't call it intense but it's more than what I'm used to ig. I hope yall like it though <3. Also thank you to Fawn for beta reading again. teehee

You had always hated gatherings: holidays, work events, family reunions, weddings, you name it. You always hated being the only person there without a partner. Not that you felt the need to have one, but it got annoying when you got the same questions over and over and over again.

When are you going to settle down and marry a nice boy?

Your parents aren’t getting any younger, don’t you want them to have some grandkids?

What are you waiting for?

The truth is, you had the answer to only one of those questions. What were you waiting for?

It has to be some stroke of luck when the answer walks right through the door to your high school reunion decked in an all-black suit and the same nerdy glasses he’d had his whole life. 

Jeon Wonwoo. Your high school sweetheart turned drunk sob story to your best friends after a few too many cocktails. 

It’s ironic how the root of all of your relationship problems just so happens to hate your guts. Not that you blamed him for it. Everything that happened between the two of you, everything that went wrong in your relationship was because of you and your insecurities. Because you didn’t trust that the idol life wouldn’t ruin the two of you. If you were him, you’d cut contact and disappear as well.

Eunchae, your best friend from high school, nudges your arm, her eyes flicking between you and the man who hasn’t spotted your wide-eyed stare. 

“Did you know he was coming today?” She whispers harshly, jerking you out of your dumbstruck trance. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, awfully reminiscent of a goldfish.

“I— no, no I didn’t.” You feel out of breath, your heart beginning to pound against your ribs so hard that you fear the bones might snap. “Hana said that— that he didn’t RSVP.” 

You look up again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s looking at you, through the crowd of people around him. Wonwoo had his eyes locked on you, his gaze unreadable from where you stood. It feels like he’s cast an enchantment on you, freezing you under the weight of his gaze. 

Your hands are shaking, and the drink in your hand almost spills before Eunchae grabs you. Someone steps in front of Wonwoo— a man, from here you can’t tell who— and your view of him is cut off.

You don’t see him try to gently nudge the man to the side while talking to him, trying to get a better look at you. You don’t see the disappointment when he finally gets him to move and you’re gone, out of his view. 

~

“Wonwoo,” one of his old friends, whose name has slipped his mind (Seonkyung maybe?), claps him on the shoulder. “You really have grown up, huh?” Wonwoo smiles politely, adjusting the expensive watch on his wrist. 

“I mean seriously,” another man comes forward, someone Wonwoo knows very well and for all the wrong reasons. Lee Jongdae, the man who planted seeds of doubt in your ear. The man who ruined something good, something that would have lasted. “You used to be like,” Jongdae raises his hand, waving it flat in the air next to his shoulder, “this tall? And now you’re a giant!”

“You must be getting all the girls, eh?” Seonkyung teases. Wonwoo wants to scream, wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “The idol life must make things easy, right?” 

“I don’t really go out much,” he shrugs, still holding that polite smile on his face. “The idol life is busier than you think.” Seonkyung scoffs at this. Jongdae narrows his eyes, but the near-mocking smile returns to his face.

“Come on~” Jongdae presses, “there’s gotta be some idol woman that you’ve snatched up. Someone has to have grabbed the attention of the great Jeon Wonwoo.” 

He hesitates. Yes, someone has grabbed his attention but it isn’t another idol in the industry. 

“Or, wait,” Jongdae’s hand collides with Wonwoo’s chest, something similar to malice appearing in his eyes. “Are you still hung up on that Y/N girl?”

Wonwoo goes rigid, and beside him Seonkyung gets quiet. Jongdae bursts into laughter, the sound ringing around the room and gathering the attention of a lot of people. Wonwoo feels his jaw tick in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or knock the man to the ground. 

“No way are you still hung up on her!” Jongdae huffs out between laughs, seemingly uncaring that he’s the only one laughing. “Ten years, and you’re still going after someone who couldn’t care less about you anymore?”

Someone inside of Wonwoo breaks a little bit. Something inside him cracks, and his resolve crumbles slightly. He hadn’t expected the jab to hurt as much as it did, but god did it sting. 

“I never said I was hung up on her.” Wonwoo folds his arms over his chest. “Like you said, it’s been ten years. If she’s moved on then that’s her business.” 

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I got with her?” Jongdae takes a step forward, an eyebrow arching in challenge. “Because I won’t lie to you, she’s looking good.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks again, but he keeps a pleasant smile on his lips. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. “Like I said, not my business.” 

That clearly isn’t the answer Jongdae is looking for, and a puff of pride fills Wonwoo. 

And then dread. He just gave the one man he would hate to see you with permission to do whatever he wanted. “Permission”, as if he has any control or say in the things, or people, that you do. 

~

When Jongdae approaches you, there’s an immediate pit of despair in your stomach, like some princess waiting to be saved from the tower she’d been locked in. There’s a menacing look in his eyes, and he walks with a swagger telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants out of a situation. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” You almost cringe at the first words out of his mouth, your lips twisting into an awkward, tense smile. 

“Hi…?” 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jongdae continues, not waiting for you to say or do anything. He’s only focused on getting what he wants, that much is obvious from the way he smirks and glances around to find…someone. Who, you aren’t sure. “You sure have…grown up a bit, haven’t you?” 

“I mean…yeah I’m 27. I would hope I’ve grown up a bit.” He laughs a bit too hard for something you hadn’t intended to be funny. 

“Say,” he leans closer to you, and you press yourself back against the wall. His hand comes to rest on the side of your thigh, right near the slit in your dress. “Why don’t we get out of here? You know, go somewhere a little bit more…quiet? Maybe Mrs. Ji’s old chemistry lab?” 

Your body is tense, and you try to pull away from him. 

“No, thank you.” Your hand tightens around the small plastic cup of cheap wine in your hand. “I think I’m fine where I am.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna loosen up a bit?” He coos, and his grip tightens on part of your dress. Your body tenses.

Then his grip was gone, and his body is hitting the floor, and people were beginning to surround you and Jongdae and…Wonwoo? 

Wonwoo is standing next to you, his black jacket seemingly gone, and the sleeves of his black button-up are rolled up to his elbows. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a thin line. 

“What the hell was that for, Jeon?” Jongdae pulls himself to his feet, trying to approach him, but another man steps forward. “Thought you said it wasn’t your business?”

“It wasn’t,” Wonwoo agrees, “but that was only until you tried to do that.” 

Something about Wonwoo being this protective over you, even after what you did, makes your stomach twist into knots. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing this because he had to. Because this is what anyone would do, and your heart sinks into your stomach. 

“We were just trying to have some fun,” Jongdae snaps, “right Y/N?”

Wonwoo looks at you, and when you return his gaze it’s like you’re back in high school again. 

Do you want to leave? His head tilts ever so slightly toward the door. 

Get me out of here. You hope your eyes are portraying that thought perfectly, but the tight smile on your ex’s lips tells you all you need to know. 

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Lee Jongdae.” Wonwoo’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and you find yourself tucking your body into his side just like you used to. 

Only this time, it’s like you fit perfectly under his arm. His very…very…very muscular arm and slim waist and when your arm wraps into the back of his shirt, you can just barely feel the tight muscles and—

Oh god, you’re gonna do something you shouldn’t if the two of you don’t leave right now. 

You’re lucky that Wonwoo is able to guide you away, and that Jongdae doesn’t try to come after the two of you. You figured that, while the man was stupid, he wasn’t going to try and harm someone making more than triple his annual income and with enough power to ruin his life with just one click of a button. Probably literally. 

~

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo has his hands wrapped around the headrest of the driver’s seat in his car, watching you as you pick at the skin around your manicured nails. You turn your head to look at him, pursing your lips. 

“I mean…I guess? He didn’t really do anything, thank god.” You let your hands drop to your lap and a heavy sigh escapes you when you let your head fall against your headrest. 

“I’m sorry that he did that.” Wonwoo’s voice is gravelly, and you have to take a moment to calm yourself before speaking.

“It isn’t like it’s your fault. You do know that, right?” Wonwoo shrugs.

“It kind of is, though. The only reason he went up to you is because of me. Because he wanted to get under my skin.” Oh? You arch an eyebrow, turning your body to face him. The slit in your dress shifts ever so slightly, exposing your bare thigh. Wonwoo turns his head away from you, his cheeks heating. 

“Why would he want to do that?” In your heart, you already know. The way the two of you easily slipped back into your old habits, the way he didn’t even hesitate to help you despite protesting that anyone would have done it. You knew, now, that he didn’t hate you. You just wanted him to admit it. 

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his head to look at you. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” You nod, leaning your body across the center console to get close to him. You can tell he’s nervous, maybe embarrassed. 

“You know me, Wonwoo. I always get what I want.” You grin and Wonwoo turns to look at you again and suddenly you’re aware that you aren’t dating him anymore. That it’s weird for you to be that close to him. 

Your smile drops and you sink back into your seat. Wonwoo watches you, a frown replacing his previous smile. 

“I’m— I’m so sorry.” You press yourself as close to your door as possible. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo fights the itch in his brain that tells him to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t realized just how enchanted with you he was until he saw you across the room for the first time in ten years. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having you pulled against his side, although you fit much better now that he’d filled out and grown into his body. Wonwoo hadn’t missed the way your breathing hitched when he pulled you against him, hadn’t missed the dazed look in your eye when he looked down to ensure that you weren’t hurt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— I shouldn’t have touched you like that—” 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo cuts you off. “You did nothing that I didn’t want you to do.” Your mouth snaps shut, and you look at him with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I…I still— fuck this is harder than I thought it would be. For a songwriter, you would think I’d know how to confess that I’m still enchanted by you.” He laughs nervously, and when he turns to look at you, you’re smiling gently. You understand.

You stay quiet and then turn to him again. He’s facing you too, and your faces are inches apart. 

“I was enchanted by you too, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

And then your lips are on his, and it’s a searing kiss that leaves him breathless from the moment it starts. His hand rises to your cheek, gently pulling you even closer to him. Your hands wrap around the fabric of his shirt, and you whine when his tongue hesitantly prods at the seam of your lips. 

You open your mouth for him, and his hand slides to tangle in your hair and pull you impossibly closer, nearly across the center console. He roams your mouth, his tongue licking at every inch, sliding against your own as if this was the last time he’d ever be able to kiss you. Your hand slides down, tracing down to his tie, then to his abdomen and you can feel the muscles tightening wherever your nails trace. 

Your hand trails even lower, and you feel him freeze against you when you place your hand over his crotch. He forces himself to pull his lips from yours, a string of spit connecting your tongues, and his eyes flutter shut again when your hand squeezes lightly around his hard-on. 

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.” You smirk, raising your lips to his ear. 

“What if I don’t want you to be?” A gentle kiss was placed to the corner of his jaw, and his grip on your hair tightened to the point of near painful. This draws a whimper out of you, right in his ear. He pulls you back, not harshly but enough for your jaw to drop. 

“Tell me you’re sure,” he practically begs. “Tell me that this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you aren’t in love with someone else, that there’s no one waiting for you at home.” 

Tell me you love me.

Your hand slips to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye. 

“You know that you’ve always been it for me, Jeon Wonwoo.” You promise, and your lips are against his again. It’s sweeter than the first but still filled with ten years of words left unsaid. “Take me home.”

~

The moment Wonwoo locks the door to his apartment, you’re pressed against the wall with so much force you’re surprised there isn’t a hole in the shape of your body. His hands are on your hips, your thighs, your shoulders, and your chest. Every time he pulls away from your lips, he catches one between his teeth, nipping at the soft flesh before shifting his focus to your neck.

“Wonwoo,” your voice is shaking, your hand tangled in the dark strands of his once neatly styled hair. “Wonwoo, please?” Another hickey blooms across your neck, another on your shoulder, then your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He rasps, tugging the strap of your dress to the side until it slips down your shoulder and exposes more of your breast. “What do you need from me?” He slides the other strap down, and you gasp when his cold hands reach up and grab at the soft mounds on your chest. 

“Wonwoo— Wonwoo, I—” Your brain has gone to mush the moment his mouth lands on your nipple, sucking at it and nipping at the bud. You breathe out soft moans, your hands struggling to move to the back of your dress to reach for the zipper. 

It’s impossible to function with Wonwoo flicking his tongue against one nipple, his fingers kneading and twisting and pinching at the other. Your hands shake as you finally catch the zipper, yanking it down as quickly, yet gently, as possible. 

Wonwoo pulls away from your chest, breathing heavily, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He examines your body, entirely nude from your choice to go braless and pantiless tonight, and his cock twitches in his slacks. 

“God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He hisses. You peer up at him with eyes so innocent, but you both know that isn’t the case. “Did you know I was gonna be there? Hm?” He grabs your chin in one of his large hands, yanking you toward his face until you’re struggling to even stand on your tip toes. “Did you know that I was gonna give in to you?”

“No— Wonwoo, I didn’t know—” His free hand collides with your ass and you cry out, stumbling toward him. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” His hand strikes your skin again, and a gush of arousal practically drips down your legs. 

“I think you’re lying to me,” he hums thoughtfully. “Lying isn’t nice, you know.”

“I’m not lying— Oh, Wonwoo please—” His free hand has slipped down to your core, delicate fingers brushing against your sopping wet cunt. “Please touch me, please, I need it.” 

“Yeah, baby?” One finger pushes between your folds, and your knees almost buckle. Your nails dig into his biceps, squeezing the taut muscle as he sinks two long, slender fingers into you. “Need it so bad, don’t you? Had you waiting for so long. Did you miss me, baby? Miss this?”

“Missed you so bad, Wonwoo,” you arch your back into him, your hips jerking against his fingers. He slips a third inside of you. “Miss— Missed the way you t-touched me.” He hums, curling his fingers up into you and you emit a desperate cry of his name. “Right there, Wonwoo! Fu—fuck, right there!” 

“Tell me how much you missed me, pretty girl.” He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, watching you and enamored by the way your eyes roll back, the way your jaw is dropped, and the way your chest heaves. “Tell me how much you need me.” 

“N-Need you so–o bad. No o-one makes me fe-feel this good— oh god,” you clench around his fingers, pulsing and dripping down his wrist. “No one el-se made me c-cum like you d-do.” A swell of pride in his chest, and his thumb presses hard against your clit. You spasm around him, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. “So close, Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay baby,” he purrs, “you can let go. I’m here now, gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you so good, never gonna have to turn to anyone else again. Just let go.” 

You spasm again, and your body sags as your orgasm rocks through you. Wonwoo has an arm around his waist, his other hand still working his fingers into you and easing you through your high. 

It takes you a few minutes to come down, and by the time you do, Wonwoo has removed his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He’s watching you as you try to step forward, catching you when you stumble. You reach for the button of his slacks and he stops you, smiling when you pout. 

“I’m not fucking you here, baby. You deserve to be fucked in an actual bed.” You let him guide you to his bedroom— correction try to guide you. It’s like you’re addicted to the taste of him, your lips practically gluing themselves to his biceps, licking and biting at the salty skin. You can feel every one of his breaths as he walks, and his pace picks up until he’s flinging open his bedroom door and shoving you in front of him. You stumble a bit, and he pushes you again so you fall face down onto his bed. Wonwoo isn’t far behind you, his body leaning over yours and his hand on the back of your neck and preventing you from pushing yourself up. 

“Do you know how much I missed this? Being able to fuck you wherever, whenever, and however I wanted?” He hisses into your ear, and you feel his free hand slip down your back as he reaches for the button on his pants. His hips keep rolling into yours, and the little grunts and moans that he releases are almost enough to get you to cum again. “Do you know how hard it was to not imagine that I was fucking your sweet little cunt every time I found someone to spend the night with? No one matched up to you, sweet girl. No one got me to cum like you do, got me as hard as you do.” You whine when he kicks your ankles apart, your nails gripping the duvet for dear life. 

When you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, it takes everything in you to not grind into him. He’s breathing heavily into your neck, slowly slipping in. Your body twitches and you fling your hand back, frantically searching for his own to squeeze and distract yourself from the pain of him stretching you out. 

“So tight,” he presses his forehead against the back of your neck, his body shuddering. “Fuck, it’s like nobody has fucked since me.”

“N-nobody else felt as good as you,” you gasp out. “No one could stretch me out like you do. Just fuck me, please.” 

“Gotta let you adjust, baby,” he argues. “Still got about half left.”

You whine again, jerking his arm in front of you and letting your face fall into it. He groans when your teeth sink into his skin, biting and sucking and gasping against him until you feel his hips connect with yours. 

“You ready?” He rubs your back gently, and you frantically nod your head.

“Please, please, please, please—” His hips pull back and you release a guttural moan as he slams his hips into yours. Again and again and again and again. Every thrust sends the tip of cock full force into that soft, pleasurable spot inside of you and it feels so good, and he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, and you don’t ask him to. Your mouth has fallen open, a neverending stream of cries and moans and begging leaving your lips.

His hands reach forward, and you feel a finger hook into your mouth on either side. It stings, the stretch of him holding your mouth open, and you feel your back arch, his cock somehow hitting even deeper inside of you. Drool slips down your chin and it’s so nasty but you can’t form the words to stop him. The only things that leave your mouth are nonsensical babbling and you feel Wonwoo begin to rise, taking you with him. One of his hands leaves your mouth and slips down to the base of your throat, and the other’s thumb hooks into your jaw and holds your mouth open. His hand squeezes around your throat, and you squeeze around his cock

“You close, baby?” Wonwoo coos into your ear but you don’t have the brains to form words. Your hips press back into his, one of your hands slipping down to frantically rub at your clit. You’re clenching rapidly around him now, almost in time with when he pulls out of you and you can feel him twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum again?” 

You try to tell him that, yes you’re so close and it feels so good and oh god Wonwoo please—

Your body shudders and a sound similar to a scream escapes you, your free hand gripping his forearm tightly and you can feel the skin tearing beneath your nails but neither of you cares as he pumps white-hot cum deep inside of you. His hips are still rolling, adding to the sensation of his cum inside of you. Your core begins to sting with overstimulation, and you try to pull away from Wonwoo with a whine. He just laughs, his hands settling on your waist and lowering you down onto the bed once his cock has softened. 

~

Your back is against his in the tub and he’s running a soft cloth along your body, along the marks on your body and the bruises on your hips. 

“You doing okay?” His voice is tender. “I know I was a little bit harsh on you.”

You chuckle. “Not like you haven’t done that before.” 

You play with the suds that float in the water, humming quietly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back a bit. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” You lean your head back on his chest, and he frowns at the question.

“Why would I hate you?” 

A shrug and you drop your arms into the water. 

“I threw away a nearly perfect relationship just because someone said you’d drop me the moment you found someone better in the idol industry.”

“So?” Wonwoo traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. “That’s not your fault. I get that it was scary. Neither of us knew what was gonna happen, you were already stressed about how things were gonna work with you being in college. I’m not gonna blame you or hate you for that choice. What matters is that we found each other again.”

Your cheeks heat up and you turn your body around in the tub to sit on his lap. He looks up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow. “In the hallway. That I’d never have to turn to anyone else. Are we gonna…” Your voice trails off and Wonwoo raises his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I meant every single word I said tonight. I’m here to stay, Y/N.” His nose nudges against yours. “I was enchanted from the moment I met you, and I want to be yours again if you’ll let me.” 

You play with the strands of his hair, smiling like a madman. 

“And I meant everything I said as well,” You let your forehead rest against his, your eyes falling shut. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Wonwoo exhales softly. 

“Always. I will always stay.”

~

Taglist: @juyeonszn @leejihoonownsmyheart @nobraincellmode

[whydoyoucare866]

hai :3 can i request an enemies to lover miguel o hara fic where they get stuck in a closet together and reader kinda has to sit on his lap because there isnt any space and so after a few minutes of being in there, reader pisses off miguel and miguel kisses them to shut them up and then the rest is history ig 🙇‍♀️

PLS AND THANK YOU! 🙇‍♀️

also pls make the reader speak spanish im BEGGINGGG.

CLOSET

hi! ofc you can! I did my best! I’m sorry that it sucks and is cringy😀😭

Miguel O’ Hara x Hispanic Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Suggestive Language, Maybe a glimpse of smut, and Miguel being an asshole

You were one of Miguel’s first recruits, you had been working in the spider society for as long as it had existed, you and Miguel were close (or you would like to consider that) since you both shared the same culture and language and it was easier for you to communicate with him when your English wasn’t as good as it is (since in your universe Spanish was the predominant language) and he would be one of the few people who could understand your accent or you speaking Spanish when you forgot a word.

He took it as his personal job to teach you English until you perfected it and people who didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to guess that it wasn’t your first language( though sometimes you still would forget words in English or express yourself better in Spanish) you would both mutually bring food for each other or bond over music, so yeah you considered yourself close to him.

That was until he started becoming way more stressed about everything, yeah he has been a sour asshole ever since his canon event, but people were at least able to get small responses and have conversations that weren’t all about work with him, but as the spider society grew, he felt a lot of pressure on him and started drowning himself in work to the point that he would isolate himself for days until he got everything he needed done, he could spend weeks without sleeping and eating, and obviously as he became more stressed his memories started to impulse even worse emotions on him than they did before.

Of course this made you and your other teammates worried about him, so you started to bring him lunch, make sure he slept, and just went to see if he was okay, but you checking up on him started to annoy him as he got more irritating because of the lack of sleep and the accumulation of stress, so one day he just decided you annoyed him and soon that annoyance turned into hatred, or that’s what he thought it was.

This made him become snappy at you and we all know he can be the greatest asshole, at first you’re patient with him, thinking it will pass, but as it gets worse you reach your ending point and lose all patience starting to respond to him the same way he talked to you.

The sudden change weirded everyone out, but they also noticed that ever since you started hating Miguel back, his mood became even worse, well everyone noticed except for you, which surprised everyone since you were one of the smartest people in the spider society.

So thats why everyone refused to go to a mission with Miguel when he asked them to, arguing that they already had a mission, or that they had something really important to do, until Miguel had no other option but to take you and you had no other option but to go with him.

“Do i reaally have to go with him? I mean can’t he just ask Ben instead?” You said to Jess

“Nope honey, Ben has a really important therapy session”

“Okay? so then ask Gwen? Pavitr? Hobie? anyone else?”

“He already did, they’re all busy”

“Then why can’t you go”

“As important as the spider society is, I have an ultrasound appointment today, so I can’t go even if I wanted to”

“Well the world just hates me then doesn’t it”

“Maybe it does, or maybe it’s doing you a favor”

“Trust me, being alone with him is not a favor, i don’t want to be screamed at about how i’m annoying and a fucking- what was the word? uhm una carga? how did you say that?”

“A burden?”

“Yeah that! I don’t want to be called a burden and shit like that”

“You’re no burden, but I’ll tell you what you sound like, a teenage girl, come on, you’re an adult, you can take things in a professional way”

“Well the one that’s childish is him not me”

“Uh huh, well i’ve gotta go, good luck!”

“Yeah whatever”

You were now approaching Miguel’s office while wishing you were dead ‘Puta madre neta me lleva la verga, ahora si ya no tengo de otra más que ir’ (Fuck this shit, now I really don’t have any option but to go), you were starting to grow nervous as you approached his door, you hadn’t been alone with him since your last fight where he directly called you annoying and a burden, but now you had no other option.

After finishing the mission without actually talking to each other unless necessary, you both came back to the HQ, when you arrived it was weirdly quiet and no one seemed to be there doing their duties even if it was not that late, which was really weird, that was until you saw Peter B. approaching you with a worried look

“Hey y/n, have you seen MayDay? I can’t find her, usually it takes me an hour, but it’s been four hours and I haven’t been able to find her and I’m starting to get worried” Peter said to you while still running up to you and then catching his breath

“Oh, um I’m sorry but we just got back from a mission so we haven’t seen anything, but we can help you look!”

“No we can’t” Miguel said

“Yes we can, anyways where was the last place that you saw her Peter?” You said after glaring at Miguel as if looks could kill

“Well, I think it was in that one room that has a closet.. I always forget what it’s called”

“Okay yeah, I know which one you’re talking about, let’s go take a look”

Miguel followed them even if he said he wouldn’t be helping, Mayday being on the loose could press a lot of buttons and break a lot of things and cause a lot of problems, so there he was, inside of the closet with you, while Peter “looked” around the room, until they heard a loud noise of the door closing and now he was trapped inside with you, the worst thing is that because of the lack of space you ended up in his lap.

“Great, just what I needed”

“You know I’m not happy about being here with you either okay?”

“Oh is that so? or was this your little plan to get me trapped with you and to get all up on my personal space”

“WHAT? I would NOT do that, and I do NOT want to be in the same room as you you fucking asshole!”

“Oh yeah am I an asshole? sorry I couldn’t understand you with that accent”

“WHAT? okay now you’re being unreasonable, you want me to say it in Spanish? I will, Yo no planee esto wey, yo no quiero estar en el mismo lugar que tu, yo no quiero que me hables, yo no te quiero hablar y mucho menos molestar tu pinche espacio personal, así que neta hazme un favor y cállate un rato que ya no te aguanto cabrón, neta deja de cagar el palo y de ser un pendejo de la nada y ni me trates de culpar porque yo ni se que chingados te hice para que me odies tanto-“. (I didn’t plan this, I don’t want to be in the same place as you, I don’t want you to talk to me or to talk to you or even less to be all on your fucking personal space, so please do me a favor and shut up a little because I can’t deal with you anymore, please stop being such an asshole out of nowhere and don’t blame me because i don’t even know what the fuck I did for you to hate me so much-) That’s when you felt something on your lips, and it took you some time to realize he was kissing you, Miguel O’Hara was kissing you, you sure as hell felt as a teenage girl, butterflies in your stomach and everything.

On the other side Miguel was starting to get nervous as you didn’t return the kiss, he was starting to pull away and about to say he was sorry and he didn’t mean it when he felt you pulling him close and kissing him again, at first it was just a sweet kiss, but then it started to get heated, he couldn’t help but moan when he started feeling you grinding against him, with each second passing making him harder, he started kissing your neck and sucking “Fuck Miguel- you’re gonna leave marks” but he didn’t care, he continued, hearing your moans was paradise to him, he wanted to take you there so bad, until, they heard a knock “Um guys? are you okay?” Peter B said as he unlocked the door and opened it making Miguel groan in annoyance “This isn’t over.” he said before the door completely opened and revealed a Peter with a smiling Mayday in his arms.

[houdikoo]

Lacrimosa

You never expected your apathetic husband to suddenly die. Even tho you never loved him enough to care, the general public made sure to make your widow life harder. With no interest in love, all you wanted was to finally be independent. Until you met a certain count, who just couldn't seem to leave you alone.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Vampire!Jungkook x widow!Hesperia(OC)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Victorian era au, vampire au, angst, fluff, slow burn(Ig?)

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: (Unimportant) character death, mourning, ignorant OC, toxic social expectations, stigma & discrimination, blood, financial struggles, false murder accusations, manhandling, simp jk, vampire jk(that needs to be a warning).

Note: This is random idea which came to me. It's kinda inspired by Anna Karenina, like the time period and the style. I haven't written anything(like ffs) for quite some time, so kindly don't mind any errors T-T

The delightful cool air entered my lungs, as I stepped down the carriage. Warm yellow lights shunned from the now bustling mansion in front of me.

The trembling pain in my temples grew, giving me a sign of what was to come. It has namly been 2 months since the death of my "dear husband".

It would be lying if I said I wasn't tearful, on the contrary, I was saddened by the problems he left me to deal with it.

The enormous layers of my black mourning dress swayed in the light breeze as I moved thru the doors, stepping into the lightened ballroom.

Numerous of familiar and unfamiliar faces turned towards me. Coming here today, I clearly knew what I was putting myself thru. The so called "appropriate" mourning period; which included no social events, wasn't even half done.

Most women I have known, tended to mourn to at least a year, if not longer. Me coming here, so early will be seen as "disrespectful" to many, but I could care less.

As he, was nobody to mourn over. A man with his ego and lust had no place in my heart. I ought to at least wear black, as to respect the death.

By now, the stares turned away. Turning into whispers and careless giggles. I strodd towards the small corner where the white wine was served in dazzling glasses.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my lovely sister, Annemarie, stepping closer towards me with a sincere yet confused glance. Sighing, I picked up a glass and took a sip, patiently waiting for the interrogation.

"Hespe! Why have you come here?" her voice calm as ever, yet I sensed the anxiety in her voice from a mile away. I answered nothing, giving her my smile and continued to sip on my wine.

"I know you never cared for that man, but he was still your husband, you ought to at least think of the consequences" she grabbed a hold of my sleeve fixing it slightly as it got wrinkled.

"And you also know, that I don't care even if they throw me on the street for me so called ignorance"

An audible sigh was passed thru the air, and I could only chuckle at the way my sister turned away from me to look at the staring strangers.

"Well, isn't it Lady Selwyn… oh excuse me I meant Lady Dosett"

The sleek smirk painted his face, contrast to his actions as he bowed down in front us. Lord whitmore was never a "pitiful" type. His words striking venom everytime he speaks.

He also took the pleasure of degrading every pitiful women in his are. Who else would have been a better target, then a newly widow like myself.

"Pleasure to see you again, Lord whitmore" I crossed my arm over my waist, turning towards the middle aged man. Clearly he hoped for a better reaction, as his displease was showing slightly thru his happy faced.

"I would say the same, but I would be lying if I said wasn't surprised to see" His stare tighten and his smirk returned. I dug my nails into my arm, it was clear where this was going.

"After all it has been only 2 months since Lord Selwyn's death"

I looked at my sister, seeing her side eye him and tightening her jaw. She might not support my ignorant choices, but she wouldn't let anyone disrespect me.

I just look back at him, giving him back the sly smile. "I'm well aware of that, but I can't quit see how my husbands death should affect my social life"

He moved back, his posture launched, clearly he wasn't expect me to actually say this. He seemed to think, as he grasped a glass of wine, stirring and sipping quietly.

I looked away, staring into the distance. Taking a sip from my glass, calming myself down. He will leave sooner or later.

I watched the over the top dressed figures, coming down the grand red carpeted stairs. Which were mostly used by high class figures, trying to appear dramatic or more "important" to the rest.

Among those figures I caught a red like flare. I searched for the source, and that's when I come to contact with red eyes boring back at mine.

They appeared brown, but a hint of red was reflected on the side. I was a bit dazed, looking to see who this individual was who bestod such unique, or rather weird beauty.

To my unhappiness, my thoughts were interrupted as Lord whitmore coughed, rather intentionally loud. I twisted my head to the side staring into him.

" I guess it makes sense, since you didn't really seem to care for the lords death" His gaze being not so friendly anymore, like he was challenging me for a imaginary duel.

"Almost like the news pleased you…"

I held my breath, but continued to look at him with a blank stare. I see, he couldn't make me ashamed, so he decided to implant the idea that I was behind my husbands death.

"Hope you didn't take it the wrong way, I'm not accusing you of anything dear" The words flow out like posing, and that sanistic smile came back. I held still, keeping my gaze on him.

He poured the last drops of his wine, putting the glass on a random tray. My sister fluffed her skirt, and grabbed me by my elbow.

"I would be carefull with such accusations. We shall get going, the dance is about to start" she spoke it softly, but you could hear the slight anger in her voice.

Lord whitmore let out a chuckle and stroked his chin in amusement. "Oh dance, right, well I'm looking forward to see both on the dance floor", he smiled and bowed down while staring straight at me.

The word "both" being emphasized more then the rest. Clearly he wasn't expecting anyone to ask me. Who would even want to dance with a widow like me, right?

I decided to keep quite and just nod to his words. Anna tighten her grip on my elbow, and guided me away from Lord whitmore.

"Lady Dosett, I'm waiting for an invite to the vigils"

I stopped and turned towards him. The vigils, I almost forgot. One of the traditions of mourning, inviting people over to "pray" for the death. I needed to throw one whatever I liked it or not, just to show respect.

"Of course, I make sure to send an invitation soon, Lord whitmore" I answered with a quick smile at the end, before turning around.

We continued on our way towards one of the doors, dividing the two huge ballrooms. We stood side by side, until the extravagant music started playing.

Within a few seconds people already moved towards the middle, starting to move along with the violin and organ sounds. I loved the ball before.

The warm atmosphere and the dancing figures, along with the smell of faint lavender and the not so lovely scent of sweat throughout the last hours.

Sadly, things changed after my wedding. There was no more excitement, with a man standing right beside, gripping my waist tight enough to make me stiff up.

My husband never loved, he called it being possessive over his "belongings". Another one of his disgusting fantasize. Now that he was gone, I could enjoy those things again.

To an extant. A widow was free, free from her family who wanted nothing to do with her, and her death husbands side who felt like a burden was taken away from them.

On the other hand, the society wouldn't leave me alone. Everyone would know me as a widow. According to most, I was doomed. No man would marry me now. Apparently, I crossed the right age for marriage and now I was "used".

I saw a few young man stare at my sister. Of course, she was young and pretty, everyone was interested in her. In this day and age, for a woman beauty and youth was her only weapon.

All she needed was to get herself a rich husband, give him a son, and she would be left alone be hima and free to do most of what she wanted.

That's how it worked, for us. I all I hoped was that she would end up with someone who respected her. Because there is no way to find love with those men.

I looked at Anna, seeing her give a shy smile towards one of the man's way. Giving her a teasing smile, I looked back at the man.

Count Ashcroft, was indeed a handsome fellow. Out of all the young men his age, he seemed least of a jerk. I looked towards my sister, pushing her forwards towards him.

She gave me a frightened look, but shaked my head giving her a genuine smile. I guess she got the clue, as she smiled and speed walked over to the man.

I was left standing alone, in the crowded room. A few giggles and glaces here and there, but I tried not to be distracted. I focused on the view in front of me.

I wandered back to my youth, the time when dreams of a life full love were still alive. I looked forward to the day I met the one for me, but it never came.

All the man around me were nothing but scoundrels. Their words full of empty promises. They say they love, but the only thing they do is their freedom of doing whatever they please.

As of now the turned more calm with elegant flute in the background, leading the flow. I felt footsteps behind coming closer. I shrugged it of thinking it was someone random walking by.

Sudden, lt the air felt colder than before. It wasn't comfortable rather soothing for my nerves. I heard a short and quite inhale from behind.

Goose bumps ran down my spine, as I stood there awaiting the unknown. I thought it might have been on of those young girls who came to give me fake pity while making fun of my now vulnerability.

"Dance with me"

A smooth like ocean waves voice said softly behind me. I chuckled lightly to myself. Well, this wasn't what I was expecting. It wasn't even a question, rather sounding like a demand.

I turned around, expecting to see a possibly underage lad who decided act cool be dancing with an elder women.

To my surprise, there stood a shallow man, black striped suit with pearly white shirt underneat.

His short hair slicked on the sides, as some strands framed his sculpted face. I moved higher, seeing the familiar red flare in his eyes.

His face was determined with no sign of nervousness. "That's not so gentleman way to ask a lady for a dance" I kept my face straight, focusing my gaze on his reaction.

Was this another one of those pranks pulled by the bachelors when they are so drunk they can't remember their name?

"Excuse my actions, I must have forgot myself while being unconsciously blinded" he spoke taking a step closer to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, crossing my hands as I stared at him.

"Blinded by what possibly?" The question lingered in the air, as he raised his hand laying if flat for me. "None other than your beauty, my lady".

I giggled, it was long since I heard such words from a man. I put my hand on his, as he raised it towards his mouth before planting a tender kiss on my knuckles.

"I rather be called by my name, Hesperia Dosett" He slowly put my hand down, but i felt his grip linger on my wrist before letting go.

"A pleasure to meet you, lady dosett. The name is Jungkook Everhart"

I thought a bit, trying to remember if I heard this name before. That's when I remembered a month before my husbands death, a man of the name count everhart took over a large state of land from my husband, leaving him grief over it with bottles of rum for the continuing 3 days.

"I must say, my eagerness is striding me wild, my lady" his voice taking an impatient tone, but still holding that charming note.

I let a audible sigh, thinking it thru before answering. "It's a dance you wanted, alright then" with that said he wasted no time putting his hand around my waist while softly leading me to the dance floor.

I felt shivers down my spine, as his cold fingers touched me thru the dress. He spun me slightly to stand in front of him as we got into position, and the music started.

I would describe this moment as peaceful. At one point it felt like there were only two of us. I saw and felt only him, the deep brown eyes staring at me with intensity and the mouth which opened a bit every once in a while.

This man was a beauty, maybe if I met him before, I wouldn't hesitate in being his partner. Although knowing the situation now, this would end up being a one time thing.

A simple dance, maybe a kiss if we get this far. His eyes made my want to stay, keep swinging and swaying till the morning.

He had the soft yet calm look on him, something I haven't seen that often. It didn't felt lustfull, but admiring?

The dance ended before I even knew it. I looked still dazed from the moment we had. I saw people staring at me, judgingly. My sister, standing amongst the crowd, stared at me confused.

That's when I realized that I was doing. Being called an ignorant wife was one thing, but getting the title of a "bed warmer" would definitely get me on a bad side.

I looked at him, holding myself from wanting to stay. "It was pleasure, but now I must be on my way" I stepped back holding up the corner of my dress.

He didn't let go of me and moved down to hold onto my wrist softly as he leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"This won't be a one time thing, meet me in the abandoned opera house tomorrow at 10pm. I wanna show my type of romance away from those cunning eyes"

I licked my lips, unsure of what to say. I didn't waste no time and turned around walking towards the exit. I stepped into the chilling air, I wasn't expecting leaving this place with shy smile on my face…

The doors of the old abandoned opera house as I stepped in, making sure to close the doors behind before anyone could see me. This place was restricted to norms, so anyone coming in here could be immediately evicted.

I glanced thru the spaces room with dirty swept red curtains hanging heavily around the stage. The dust lifted up, when I walked closer to the stage.

I questioned my arrival here, I couldn't believe a simple few minute accountant with a unknown man, made me travel to such pace at near midnight.

I sighed putting the strands which fell in front of my face, behind my ear. I stiffed as I heard slight movement somewhere above me.

I hesitated, but nevertheless looked up towards the small balcony just beside the stage.

There, in front of the washed up curtains, a well known figure sat on the railing looking at me with a delight expression.

"I didn't expect that you would come" his grin was big enough for me to see from below here, not to mention the view of his shiny pecks was almost to clear for my purity.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Who knows, maybe you take innocent girls her to murder them" my voice flew out as a flock of wasps, even though I didn't necessarily feel threatened, I needed to make sure he knew that I wasn't some naivy girl.

On the contrary, coming here was the most naivy move I could have made. But something about him, made me invested.

He giggled heartly at my words, as reached his hand to grab the hanging rope beside him. "Well, I'm glad you gave me the benefit of a doubt".

He stood up pulling the rope closer to his body, before putting the tight clothed leg around it. I raised my eyebrow staring at him closely.

"Are you trying to impressive me by acting like a pirate?" I asked, even tho the motive was clear. He was indeed, going to swing with the rope down to me.

"It's the fastest way down, don't wanna walk down all those stairs"

I chuckled lightly, wondering why he got up there in the first place. He swung forward sending his body to slowly glide down the rope, landing a few steps away from me.

I turned towards him, crossing my arms. "So? Did I come here just to see this, or is there something more you got to offer" the question lingered in the air, as he didn't answer and instead chose to walk closer towards me.

He stepped right in front of me, a thin layer of air being the only thing between us. He was mesmerizing to say the least. The way his hair fall down like oceans waves down the sandy beach.

And the glittery red sparkle in his eyes, and his stare, oh the shivers were real. A thin smile spread over his lips, as he took my hand gently.

He grabbed the rope hanging close by, before staring at me with a wide mischievous grin. "Ready to fly?" his question made me glance at him confused.

His arms, tho they looked masculine enough, I had doubts if he could hold me. He seemed to notice me concern, as he put his arm around my waist, before almost roughly, pulling me towards.

A small gasp left my mouth from the impact. I looked up at him, my fingers clenching his white ruffled collar. I felt a chuckle escape his mouth as stared down at me.

"Only a fool, would drop a girl like you"

The next second, he tucked the rope down, sending us both high up. He used his body and swinged down towards the broken stage. I set my foot down, still clasping his shirt tight in my grasp.

My eyes which I closed a second after being in the air, opened and stared back at the man who looked at me alluringly.

He moved back, letting go as I unclasped my grasp. He tucked his knee back and slightly down, crossing his one arm in front.

He kept his gaze stuck at me, as bend over. "Can I have this dance, my lady?". His words send shivers down my spine, as if that sentence was the scariest of this night.

I felt my cheeks flush, but confusion rose within me. We did just dance last night. Even so, I put my hand forward, letting him take my hand softly. He pulled me closer, almost as close as we were a second ago.

As we got in the correct position, with him holding my waist and hand tightly to the point of blood stop, and me resting my hand on his shoulder. We swinged around the stage, at one point I heard the music from last night in my head.

The notes struck my heart, as my eyes turned tired and glossy. Last night felt intimidating, while this feels soothing. I was away from the eyes of the judgeful people around me.

I thought I enjoyed it, but now I think I just hoped I did. I stared at Jungkook, who closed his eyes as he swayed to the non existing music.

He must have felt my stare, cus he opened his eyes and looked at me. His stare turned soft, almost admiring. His lips parted and slow calm puffs left his mouth.

This felt stupid, we met barely a day ago. Dancing like two strangers at a party. And now I was standing questioning my feelings. I felt attracted to him, in a weird way.

"Last night, wasn't our first ecounter"

His words left his mouth like a calm whisper. My curiosity rose, I never remembered meeting him before. Even tho I heard of his name from my ex husband.

"A year ago, I saw you at your engagement party. And from that moment on, you become someone special to me" He spoke in his deeper tone, and his eyes turned sharper.

He stopped swaying, as his arm moved from my hand towards the back of my neck. "I watched you silently for the past year. Waiting for my time, even tho I believed it would never come".

His face leaned closer, the hand gently grabbed my neck. I let a desperate sigh, I never felt so needy for a connection before know. His words flew past me, I only focused on the fact that he waited for me, for almost a year.

Inside me, I felt he was speaking the truth. His heart did desire me, and only me. He must have felt my anxiety, as his lips met mine. The slow and tender kiss, left me feeling thirty.

He once again stared at me, but this time his eyes sparkled red. My heartbeat stopped as I thought back to a rumour I heard months ago.

A man of the name Jungkook Everhart, possessed red gleaming eyes which both scared and enchanted. Pale skin, which glittered in warm sunlight. It all made sense now, he was a vampire ladies and gentlemen.

That voice range in my head, as I continued to stare at his eyes. He leaned closer, I thought he was gonna kiss me again, but no.

He went passed my lips towards the nape of my neck. His cold breath, fammed my skin as I felt goosebumps form over my whole neck.

I felt two sharp points, grazing my skin. Before I heard his low voice call out my name, trying to grasp my attention. "Hesperia, oh my dear Hesp…".

His voice shivered, like if holding himself back. His arms stroke my waist softly enough to make me melt. "I knew you were gonna be mine, and now… I'll make sure to never leave you alone in despair".

He puffed out, my lips felt dry and my hands held tightly on his arm, almost digging my fingers thru his skin. Before the sharp pain of sharp like dagger teeth sinked in my flesh, he spoke again with honeyed voice, causing my heart to swell with admiration.

"I love you, my dearest…"

[stylescine]

no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone

imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and she’s like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous because….. he’s harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just

basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? i’ve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy

lingering

Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...

Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!

Masterlist | Request

The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself and–

There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.

"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.

Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future – hopefully.

"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind and–"

"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.

She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.

"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.

Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.

But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.

Harry Styles looked stunning.

Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.

A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?

Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was – everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.

Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.

He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.

Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way – because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him – he was already right in front of her.

There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side – but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.

Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.

She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.

Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

He knew her name? How did he know her name?

Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare – whatever you wanna call it.

"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.

Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.

He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.

"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.

"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly – a small sign of curiosity.

The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.

"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?

"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.

"See you later."

Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.

She was nervous and out of her mind.

The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.

When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.

The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.

This was really happening.

"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.

Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.

And he still looked as good as earlier.

"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.

"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.

"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"

"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.

Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?

"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.

"That's true, but I like to make people happy."

She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?

Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.

She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.

"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.

Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.

"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."

She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!

“Oh my god, that means a lot to me, I-“

“I’m so glad you didn’t include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,” Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.

While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.

She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.

"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.

"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."

She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.

"Have you looked at yours-"

"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.

She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?

But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.

So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.

"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.

But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.

"As you have suspected in a video or two..."

It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.

This was what she had been waiting for.

"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.

"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.

They left their drinks unfinished.

But there was more important business to get to.

[squoosheez]

Lavender Haze

Peeta Mellark x Reader

summary: You wake up in the bed of none other than Peeta Mellark. Frantic that you’re gonna miss your train, you recall the events of the previous night.

setting: The last night of the victor’s tour. It’s the after party and you’re completely wasted, so Peeta takes you up to his room to get cleaned up.

pairing: Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, drunk sex/dub-con, p in v, reader’s an absolute menace

notes: i didn’t put too much effort into this but i hope it’s not horrible 😭 short n sweet ig

word count: 3.1k

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socials: ao3

You feel your head pound as you down your second Advil of the day. It’s quite evident now that you should not have gone to that after party. Another reason to support your claim is the fact you don’t know where the fuck you are.

Usually, you would’ve called yourself an Uber by now, but the pounding in your head was enough to make you stay just long enough to locate the nearest pain medication. You scan the room, trying to find any sign of where you may be. It’s definitely in the Capitol. Yesterday was the last day of the Victor's Tour, and the train doesn’t leave until.. well today. You feel panic start to set it.

The train. You completely forgot how important it was to know where you end up the morning of the after parties. The train. You spring up from the barstool and sprint back into the bedroom from whence you came.

Your heart pounds as you attempt to gather all your things. The tight, black, sequin dress you wore last night paired with some black stiletto heels. You don’t remember much, but you remember they hurt. You fumble around, reaching for your bag and not really bothering to change your clothes. That will definitely stir up your fans.

You move groggily around the room after you pick up all your belongings. As you start to make your way towards the door, you see the handle turn and hear a set of keys jingle on the other side. You take a step back as the door opens to reveal none other than Peeta Mellark.

You let out a sigh of relief as you run into his arms. He shoots you a confused look, but embraces you in his arms anyway. Before he can get a chance to speak, you drag him to the ground. He lands on top of you gracefully, giggling and laughing without knowing why.

“Oh, Peeta. I was so scared I was gonna be late, and I think I slept with a stranger last night.” You groan into his shoulders. Your words cause a piercing laugh to escape Peeta’s lips. You look up at him in confusion.

“It wasn’t a stranger,” he remarks. It all comes flooding back to you. You can’t tell whether to be relieved or panic even more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment as you think about the consequences of your own actions.

You gently slam your head against his marble countertops and make a loud noise that can only be described as a wail. Your dramatics are not making Peeta feel any better about the situation. He is sitting on the couch, watching the screen attentively while you rethink your entire life decisions.

Through all the blurred vision and distorted noise you recall happened last night, you finally start to remember what exactly had happened after the party.

It was a normal after party, except much more extravagant. It was the after party after you visited the presidential mansion. The party with the president was nothing less than over the top, but it still seemed very strict. You had to put on a good show and pretend like you were enjoying yourself the whole time, despite experiencing quite the opposite.

The after party was much more laid back. More drinking, less talking. You danced until your legs couldn’t hold you up, which ultimately led to Peeta carrying you up the stairs and to his bedroom. His bedroom?

He laid you on the bed and started to run you a bath. You squirmed around trying to decipher whose bed you were in. You heard the running water and decided it’d be nice to take a bath. That’s when you felt the vomit stirring up in your stomach. And in just a second, it’s out of your stomach and ruining Peeta’s brand new sheets.

He immediately rushed into the room and lifted you up, trying to keep you from completely coating yourself in puke. He sighed hard and had you sit on the toilet while he cleaned the mess you so generously made.

Alcohol poisoning was not unfamiliar to you, with all the parties in the Capitol, this was a normal occurrence. Peeta doesn’t enjoy cleaning up after you, but you’re his best friend, so he puts up with it. Though, you’re almost as bad as Haymitch at this point.

Once he’s finished stripping the bed and putting a set of fresh new sheets on it, he returns his attention towards you. You’re mumbling something barely audible and Peeta gives you a laugh in response. Due to your puking incident, he didn't want to put you in the bath first. He grabs the shower head off of the shower and ushers you into the shower.

You whined, thinking you were gonna get a bath. Before he gets the chance to ask you, you’re struggling to discard your clothes. Your shirt is stuck on your arm, and he just giggles at your useless attempt. His hands help to lift the shirt above your head, revealing your curvy figure and shimmery skin. You murmur something about staring and he gives you a forced laugh in return. He then softly asks you if you can remove your pants, in which you have no shame in doing. It makes his face grow red and his ears grow hot.

He turns on the water, and allows you to rinse yourself off at first. This quickly goes to shit when you try to spray him in the face. He wipes the water from his face, and discards himself off his sopping wet shirt.

You’re a giggling mess as Peeta hoses you down, your body barely being able to stay up against the wall of the shower. Once Peeta decides he’s gotten all the puke off, he escorts you towards the bath. Your body sinks in and the warm water feels so good on your skin.

Peeta reaches over to grab a clean plastic cup. He scoops up some water and instructs you to close your eyes. He pours the water over your head, wetting down your hair so he can wash it. He squirts a bit of shampoo onto his hand and rubs it gently into your scalp. He does the same with the conditioner on the ends of your hair. He takes the cup again and rinses the suds out of your hair. You look up at him every now and then, giving him a beautiful smile that always gives him butterflies.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says as he finishes rinsing the last of the soap out of your hair. You grab a bar of soap and begin to rub it over your body, but you get tired halfway through. You place the soap on the side of the bath closest to him, assuming he would take it and finish scrubbing you.

His breath hitches. He looks at you with a disappointed look on his face. “I can’t help you here. You can do it,” he encourages. Obviously, since you’re drunk, you take this statement as he doesn’t want to help you and wants to leave you here completely defenseless. Tears well up in your eyes and you choke on your tears. Small sniffles can be heard as Peeta immediately tries to comfort you.

He whispers reassuring words in your ear as you continue to cry. He decides against making you wash yourself and just helps you out of the bath. He grabs a towel and dries off your hair before wrapping it around your body. You shiver at the cold air hitting your wet skin, but you’ve stopped crying. So that’s a plus.

His hands guide you onto his bed, most of the guests have already left. The music volume has decreased greatly and only faint conversation can be heard. Peeta just hopes no one comes up here with you laying in his bed.

For some reason, you’re still wide awake. You wait to feel Peeta’s warmth climb into bed beside you to fall asleep, but he’s taking way too long for your liking. You throw your legs over the side of the bed and make your way over to the closet. Without even bothering to ask if he’s in there, you pull the door wide open to reveal Peeta’s almost naked body. He’s standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers while he tries to pick out a pajama shirt.

Your cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of red. He quickly shuts the door back and throws the first shirt he sees over his head. When he opens the door again, you’re sitting in front of the closet with tears running down your face. He immediately crouches down to be on your level. He wipes a tear from your cheek and speaks softly. “Hey, It’s okay. You wanna head to bed?”

You nod and let him pick you up and carry you onto the bed, placing you there gently. You feel your body relax as he climbs into the bed next to you. He allows you to lay your head on his shoulder as he turns the TV on. He watches as you drift off into a soft sleep.

Later in the night, Peeta awakes to find you moving around in your sleep. Tossing and turning, mumbling words that he can’t quite make out. It’s not until he hears you breathe out his name that he comprehends what’s happening. He curses under his breath.

Your body is facing him, the towel slipping off your figure as you continue to squirm around. He debates waking you up or just letting you enjoy your dream. He takes a deep breath in, feeling his own arousal building in the pit of the stomach. It feels so wrong to watch you like this, so he wakes you up.

You hear his voice whisper gently and your eyes flutter open. You let out a whimper of disappointment when you realize your dream is finished. The disappointment slowly fades away at the sight of Peeta. You smile and place a messy kiss directly on his lips. His eyes widen at the action.

He lets the kiss linger before breaking it gently. Your eyes are fixated on his lips and his biceps. You let out an involuntary whimper in the absence of his lips. All you can manage to say is name.

Peeta groans against the crook in your neck. His breath is warm against your cold skin and it sends shivers down your spine. You can still feel the lingering effects of intoxication as his hands travel up and down your body. You allow his eyes and hands to explore every inch of your body he can as you indulge in the sensation.

“Peeta,” you whisper softly. His eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Yeah?” He says quietly. You bite your lip as you feel your arousal swelling in your lower stomach, heat radiating from in between your legs.

“Touch me,” your voice shakes as you look up at him with pleading eyes. His expression is tense. He wants it so bad, but it feels wrong. He wants you to want him when you're sober. He wishes you would ask him these things when you’re not drunk.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Almost every time you get drunk Peeta cleans you up and holds you close and you try to get in his pants. Every time, he tells you no. Usually you take it pretty well, but for some reason you seem extra emotional today. He fears what may happen if he denies your request.

It’s an inner conflict for a moment before you decide to take matters into your own hands. Your hands travel down from his chest to the band of his boxers. He bites his lip as your body moves in closer. The towel is slowly slipping off your frame and it’s much different from how you looked when he was bathing you.

There’s a hunger in your eyes. Dark and cold. Your lips connect again and you can still taste the traces of tequila in his mouth, he’s far less drunk than you are, but the taste makes you long for more. You completely discard yourself off the towel. You have zero intentions of dragging this out.

You flip around, landing on top of him. Your hips straddling his thighs like they were made for him to be in between them. He’s completely taken aback by your movements, and he doesn’t even try to stop you anymore. You grind your hips against the growing bulge in his boxers, soaking them with your dripping arousal.

Peeta mumbles curses every now and then while you continue to grind relentlessly into him. You pull him in for once last sloppy kiss before he takes matters into his own hands. He pulled you towards him, immediately suctioning one of your nipples into his mouth. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. You let out a loud gasp as his hand roams freely on your body. They make their way to your throbbing clit, giving it the long awaited attention it deserves. Your back arches and you let out another loud moan at the action.

“Fuck me, Peeta.” Your words slur together, reminding him you’re still intoxicated. He buries the shame of his desires deep down and gives you a small smirk.

His hands travel down towards your ass, giving it a hard slap (that definitely left a mark). Your chest heaves as his hands squeeze and grip at your ass, and all you can think about is taking him so deep.

“Of course, baby.” He responds, his breath shaky and far from stable. You scoot up to give him room to slip off his underwear. He pulls them down to his ankles and you can feel his erection spring up to hit your ass. You smile as you breathe out another soft moan.

You move back to your previous position, his cock hitting your stomach with every small movement. You give him a couple strokes, watching as his expression grows more needy. Your thumb traces over his slit, earning a lewd whimper from Peeta’s throat. You lean over placing yet another kiss on his neck, sucking a dark hickey on his pale skin.

You position him near your entrance, sliding his cock back and forth between your folds, teasing him ever so slightly. He lets out a hiss as you finally sink yourself down on him. Your back arches as his cock fills you to the brim, legs shaking while you try to hold yourself up.

The room is filled with ah’s and mm’s as you pick yourself up and slam yourself back down onto him. He hits your g-spot, but only softly with very little effort. His hands guide your hips in a circular motion. He grits his teeth as you let out a moan that can only be described and slutty when he slams straight into your sweet spot. Tears well up in your eyes as your hand moves to circle your swollen clit.

Peeta gives your ass another slap, causing a string of profanities to slur out of your mouth. Your whole body feels like it’s floating. The pleasure is unimaginable. His sweaty blonde hair sticks to his forehead and you watch as he fucks up into you, letting small groans escape his lips occasionally. “You’re so tight,” Peeta hisses.

Your moans echo throughout the room, flooding Peeta’s head with the sounds of your pleasure. He feels the bubbling in his stomach grow stronger when he feels your walls clench around him. He curses under his breath and continues to use his hands to force you down on him.

Tears, drool, and sweat drip down your face, creating a mixture that cannot taste good. Peeta doesn’t mind. He pulls you down and connects your lips in a sloppy, wet, unorganized kiss. You don’t know how he manages to do it. He drives you crazy with every movement and you cannot get enough of it.

He continues to pound into you, your knees lock and you let him fuck you as hard as he can. A few shrill moans leave his throat as his climax approaches rapidly. You feel the same, your moans becoming much more erratic and louder. His thrusts become sloppy and less careful. He speeds up and your back arches as you feel his cock pulsate inside you.

“Peeta- I’m gonna, fuck—” you barely manage to give him a warning before your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you swear you see stars. Peeta’s face is concentrated, beads of sweat pouring down his chin, needy moans escaping from behind his lips.

He can feel his own orgasm building as you grab onto his biceps for support. It’s all too much and more tears stream down your face as the overstimulation sets in. You feel his body tense up and he pulls out as fast as you’ve seen any guy pull out. He gives himself a few fast strokes before cumming all over your tits. “Jesus.”

Peeta almost collapses on top of you, stopping himself before he accidentally crushes you. He locks your lips in a gentle kiss this time, not as messy or needy as before. He gives your nose and forehead a matching kiss as well. He brushes your hair behind your ears and you shoot him a ridiculous smile. The last thing you wanna do right now is move. You close your eyes as Peeta walks over to the bathroom. You hear the sink running and can only assume he’s wetting down a rag.

You’re right, of course. He places the rag in between your breasts, wiping away any of the cum residue he left there before placing another kiss right in between them. You giggle softly and pull him down towards you.

Your cheeks flush read at the sight of a completely fucked out Peeta Mellark. You feel a little proud of yourself as he swoops in for one last kiss before pulling you closer. You fall asleep knowing you’re in the arms of the man you feel most safe with.

That’s when you’re snapped back into reality. Peeta rushing around the room frantically trying to gather all his things and Peeta calling to alert the two of you the train’s arriving in twenty minutes. Your face is hot and you’re clearly embarrassed at the acts of your drunk self, but Peeta just seems to try to ignore them.

You try to regain control of your thoughts when Peeta breaks the silence. “Everything alright?” His voice is sincere and coarse. Just like it was that night.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

[ofmdrecaps]

07/27-28/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Galaxy Con Raleigh: Kristian, Con, Vico, and Nathan; Bronson Pinchot; Minnie Driver; Kay Buchanan; Adopt Our Crew: Articles; Voting Reminders; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== David Jenkins ==

David posed an interesting question to the gallery. (I know many weeks back someone was mentioning a similar thing being related to Non-Binary Folks, not sure if that was Chaos Dad's intent or not, but you can answer on Instagram if you'd like!)

Source: David Jenkins Instagram

Dad also reblogged the absolutely INSANELY talented @blueberreads' fabulous latest pixel video!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter / Blueberreads Tumblr == Taika Waititi ==

More Taika at the Louis Vuittan Pre-Olympics event.

Source: styledumonde Instagram

PS: I didn't wanna post her post here but sending healing thoughts to Rita Ora (Taika's wife), apparently she was hospitalized in the last couple days. Hope you feel better soon Rita! Rest up hon!

== Galaxy Con Raleigh Updates ==

So many pictures came out of GalaxyCon Raleigh! I was only able to get permission from a few folks-- but if you were there and you'd like me to share them on the recap please feel free to reach out! I'd love to!

Poor Kristian was jet lagged pretty bad.

Source: Kristian's IG Stories

So much Nathan!

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram Stories

= GalaxyCon Raleigh Panel ==

Tell Tale TV was at the panel and will be bringing some more news in the upcoming days!

Source: Tell Tale TV Twitter

The fabulous @/cecillusive on Twitter was kind enough to let me share their transcriptions of the panel! If you have access to twitter, you can see the Full thread here. First up, apparently audio captioning was displaying what was being said backstage!

Source: Cecillusive Twitter

== Bronson Pinchot ==

Bronson is back with more Ned Low showing up in his Serge clips!

== Minnie Driver ==

Fun news! Minnie will be voicing the new Oswalda Cobblebot (The Penguin) in the animated movie: Batman: Caped Crusade, which arrives August 1!

She was also out at San Diego Comic Con this past week promoting it!

Source: Minnie Driver's Instagram

== Kay Buchanen ==

Our extremely talented leatherworker, Kay Buchanan has been posting some stunning work she's been doing-- including what's available for sale! Are you in the market for some satchels, body harnesses, leather armor, or tassel bags? Well she's got you covered! Visit her Instagram for more info!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kay Buchanan (@kay_buchanan_)

Source: Kay Buchanan's Instagram

== Adopt Our Crew: Articles ==

Adopt our crew spotlighted some quotes from the latest screenrant article that mentioned OFMD and there's some very interesting honk-inducing information in there. Thank you @adoptourcrew for keeping the honk going!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Voting Reminders ==

Only a couple more days to vote for Rhys and OFMD in the Gold Derby Awards! Reminder, you do need to sign up with an email/account to vote! Vote here! Thank you @adoptourcrew for keeping us reminded!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

We're a down by part of a % on the Tell Tale TV Poll! It closes at the end of July! If you are up for voting-- you can do so every day! Most Heartbreaking Cancellation of 2024 So Far Poll

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards from the wonderful @melvisik! Ken S. is an action extra in OFMD and Alison Telford is another one of the Casting Directors!

Source: @melvisik's Instagram

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

Our darling @patchworkpiratebear is keeping us fed with more and more ofmd colouring pages! Many of these also have multiple versions now so please check out @patchworkpiratebear's tumblr for more options!

Source: PatchworkPirateBear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies, I'm still on crazy hours for work and will be probably through the end of July. I am always thinking of you though, I hope every one of you is well and having a good or at least not too heavy start to the week <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Katie Abey 🌈 (@katieabey)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Katie Abey 🌈 (@katieabey)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Katie Abey 🌈 (@katieabey)

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's gifs are courtesy of the lovely, the fantastic, the beautiful, the awesome @ofmd-ann and @starfleetavenger-blog!

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/30/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Samba Schutte; Kay Buchanan; Rachel House; OurFlagMeansDaddy; Ruibo Qian; LubeAsACrew; New SOFMD Event Calendar; MerMay Prompts; Watch Party Reminders; Schadenfreude; Trends; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

Tonight Rhys dropped a new Cryptid Factor video on Tiktok! If you have access to Tiktok, please head over there and give it some love! If you don't have access to Tiktok, the video is available down below.

Source: The Cryptid Factor Tiktok

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba was out here today sending us some BTS but also this adorable picture with Con's water bottle.

The lovely @soapbubbles511 was kind enough to bring over the BTS that Samba posted on instagram. Tumblr only lets me post one video at a time so I'm linking to their tumblr! Check it out below!

Sources: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Kay was kind enough to bless us with MULTIPLE BTS posts today! The first was a video of an attempt by Con to use his horsey leg.

Then she was kind enough to show us some more leather work she did, including the holder for Ed's alcohol in the Gravy Basket. "Before and after breakdown 🏴‍☠️ #ofmd #ourflagmeansdeath"

Source: Kay Buchanan's Instagram

= Rachel House =

Our Mary Reed, Rachel House featured The Moon Is Upside Down on her IG which she starred in, and shouted out to another talented director - Loren Taylor! If you're in AoNZ check out 'The Moon Is Upside Down' in cinemas starting May 2nd!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram

== Our Flag Means Daddy ==

You have probably seen Chaos Dad donning one of these jackets before, gifted by the lovely group @/ourflagmeansdaddy on instagram and various other platforms. They've done it again for our Pirate Queen! Check our their linktr.ee.

= Ruibo Qian =

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram

= Astroglide =

The #OurFlagMeansDaddy crew also gifted our awesome crewmate from Astroglide a jacket!

== New SOFMD Crew Event Calendar ==

Remember to take a load off tomorrow lovelies! It's a vacation day!

== Watch Party Reminders ==

= Palm Royale =

Palm Royale WP May 2 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @/dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST!

= Wrecked Season 1 =

Another week of Wrecked Season 1 is on the docket! Don't have access? Reach out to me on @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr, or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

Days: Apr 29 - May 3

Times: 3:30 pm PT / 6:30 pm ET / 11:30 pm BST

== MerMay Reminder ==

Reminder all -- there's multiple MerMay Prompts going around! Feel free to dive into any prompts that tickle your fins!

= @bizarrelittlemew =

@bizarrelittlemew was kind enough to provide us with some MerMay Bingo! Head on over to her blog post below for more info!

= @saveofmdcrewmates =

The Save OFMD Crew has daily prompts for MerMay!

Visit any of their socials for more details!

== Fan Spotlight ==

Yet another English Seaman tonight-- Iain Morris! by @melvisik! And look at that, he worked on WWDITS!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

Thank you @patchworkpiratebear for yet another fun colouring page! Mmmm, 40 orange glaze!

== Schadenfreude / Articles ==

Thanks to @/Seven_Sugars on twitter for sharing the article and providing commentary on the latest WBD Stock drop from today. Article here

== Trends ==

The latest trend pic I could find of #SaveOFMD was by our friend @fightingsaravo on twitter. Thanks so much for capturing it hon.

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. Hope your Taika Tuesday turned out well. It certainly was an eventful day. Seeing SaveOFMD trending again really made me smile. It's so nice to see so many folks feeling the hype again. I'm running on fumes at the moment so I'll leave you with some love notes/affirmations from others today-- I hope you have a wonderful night and a great hump-day tomorrow! Merry May!

Img Src: @thelatestkate's Tumblr

Img Src: @/carolinemiddelsdorf's Instagram

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is laughter! Cause we can always use a good laugh from these two!

Taika gif courtesy of our darling Al, @agaywithcoffee!

Rhys gif courtesy of our fantastical Tina, @funforahermit!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

“CHIAROSCURO” was very well-written! May I request a oneshot of Yuji Itadori within the recent manga chapters? Instead of Choso, the one to protect him from Furnace was the reader, and they have a final “date” in a innate domain of sorts and say their goodbyes before the reader is burned to nothing. Have a good day! 💝

── 1800 DEGREES

Synopsis: By some miracle, you are granted the gift of saying goodbye to Yuji Itadori, one last time.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Itadori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warnings: jjk spoilers, angst, character death, nobara is dead fr in this, lots of talk about heat (literally not erotically), reader and yuji’s history is left very vague

A/N: it’s actually criminal how long this has been in my inbox omg i’m so sorry!! but i’m glad you liked chiaroscuro anon and i love your mind for angst HEHE i hope this fits what you were going for!! sorry again that it took a bit 😫 also 1800 degrees fahrenheit is the highest temperature that a typical crematorium’s ovens will be set at so uh reference ig 😓 if you were wondering why the title is so odd

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was hot — unbearably so. You could not even sweat, it was that level of scalding, and you knew that within a few moments, you would lose any ability to think, to reason or feel. That meant you had to act now and act quickly, before you lost your final hope at anything resembling a victory.

Yuji, dear Yuji. You had to protect him; it was the only thing you knew, the only thing you could concentrate on as the flames of Sukuna’s Domain licked closer towards you. You could not falter nor flinch. You could only think of him, though this, at least, was nothing difficult — because so many of your thoughts had been occupied by his presence throughout the past year that it was all but a habit at this point for your mind to linger on him.

He was shouting at you. He must’ve been, though you were hardly and dimly aware of it. He never raised his voice at you, but all rules had their exceptions, and this was one such exception, one such circumstance in which even the mild-mannered Yuji Itadori could be driven to screaming at you. 

Only your technique could do it. No other would be of sufficient strength to protect against Sukuna’s fire, but this immense power came with a cost: it could only save one person. That was it. You could only save one person, and every other time you had been selfish and saved yourself, but not today. Today, when you cast that barrier, whose summoning was as learned as it was innate, the shimmering wall did not form around you but, for the first time, sprang up around another person entirely.

You wanted to look at him. You didn’t want to confront Sukuna and give him that satisfaction, and neither were you brave enough to stare at your impending doom with your shoulders squared and your head held high. Instead, you turned your back to it and kept your eyes firmly locked on Yuji’s, smiling in the face of his horror, trying to reassure him with your gaze if not your words that this was your decision, that he was the one who had to do it, because nobody else could. Because you could not, certainly you could not. This was the last thing you could offer him.

Reaching out your hand, you pressed it to the barrier, your fingers splaying against the cursed energy, which had coalesced into a form as solid as diamond. There, you waited, as his muscles trembled, as he shook his head, over and over in a firm denial, his mouth moving like he was rejecting what was happening though it was out of his power to do so. His hand moved despite his stubborn insistence, resting opposite yours in a clear farewell, forehead slamming against the barrier as he tried fruitlessly to get to you.

You wished that, in these final moments, there was not this wall between you. You wished that, if you had to leave him forever, you could hold onto him one last time. You wished that you could say goodbye, properly instead of through this impenetrable barrier.

Then a sensation engulfed you, warm and strong, not burning and anguishing as you had expected. It took you a moment to realize that you were longer in Sukuna’s Domain but instead in a different location, a sweet-smelling meadow dappled with sunlight and wildflowers, and that sensation which you still felt was the tenderness of Yuji’s embrace.

You wanted to ask him: where are we? How is this happening? Is it even real? Are you real? Have these past few months been nothing but a nightmare, and is this then the truth? But all you could do was sniffle, burying your face in his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to his chest and clutching onto him as tightly as you could.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking, one of his hands traveling up from your waist to the nape of your neck, clinging to you as tears welled in your eyes and splashed onto his skin. “Y/N, I—”

“I’m frightened,” you said. “Don’t speak about it. I’m very frightened, and I don’t want to — I don’t want to think about it or talk about it or anything. By some miracle, I have been given this last chance to see you, and I don’t want to ruin it by being frightened.”

His nose pressed against your cheek as he inclined his head, a small, choked sound escaping from him. Besides that, he was silent for a while, and then: “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“I didn’t hear it,” you said.

“I still did it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” you said, trying to laugh as best as you could. “Just barely.”

He let you go, though now his hands came to rest on your shoulders, and he was so gentle even when you knew he was falling apart that it brought tears to your eyes anew. You raised your own hand up so that it could trace against the scar by his lip, and he let out a shuddery, achy sigh.

“Is that the only thing you forgive me for?” he said.

“It’s the only thing that bears forgiving,” you said. “Nothing else you’ve ever done is something you should apologize for, so what more could I forgive? Let’s sit.”

Now that you were less bewildered, you took the time to take in your surroundings properly. The clearing you were in was composed more of white and pink than green, a carpet of blooms in many heights sprawling out until they hit the surrounding trees, whose branches arced up towards the sky like they were protecting the two of you. Somewhere in the distance, a creek bubbled happily, but that was the only sound, besides the breeze and Yuji’s soft breathing.

You leaned against Yuji’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as he nervously picked flowers, his fingers ever needing to remain busy, a companion to his racing mind. 

“This is the last time I’ll see you, isn’t it?” he said, the rise and fall of his chest growing progressively quicker. “Because you…you know. It’s goodbye forever, isn’t it?”

“We’re luckier than most,” you said. “At least we get to say goodbye in the first place.”

“Not that lucky,” he said. “We still have to say goodbye, so how can we be lucky?”

“I never said lucky. Just that some people don’t get to say goodbye at all,” you said. “And here we are in such a wonderful place to get to do it.”

“Do you think it’s real?” he said.

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “Is this a trick being played by my mind? Or are we here together? For me it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help hoping that it’s real, or at least that you are. I want you to remember, too.”

“I’ll remember,” he said. “I’ll never forget it. Until the day I die, I’ll remember this. Remember you.”

“If you ever get married and have kids one day, will you tell them about me?” you said. “Not in the sense that you loved me before their mother, or more than her, or anything like that. Just that we were friends, and I saved your life once or twice.”

“We’re not friends, though,” he said.

“No, I suppose we’re not,” you said. 

He nudged you in the side. You peered up at him, his shimmering eyes and the way his nose scrunched so that he could attempt to appear happy, and you raised your eyebrows. He lifted a garland of flowers up, like he was asking for your permission, and when you nodded he set it atop your head like a crown.

“You look like a princess,” he said. “So pretty.”

“I’m relying on you,” you said. “I can’t see myself, so if I look like a fool, then you have to be honest and say as much.”

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “You’re as beautiful as the day we met. Or even more. I don’t know.”

“I want to go back to that day,” you said. “Go back and relive the past few months in an endless loop, just so I could meet you every time.”

“Even with everything else that happened?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Even with everything else that happened. I’d suffer it again and again, just to experience the day I first saw you once more.”

He held your face still with his roughened hands, leaning down and pressing his lips against your own. You sought him out, your hands running through his hair, his rubbing against your jaw, the heat of his mouth different and yet so similar to the way you knew the fire of your death would feel. But this was a fire and a death you could choose, would choose, over and over until there was nothing left of you to burn away.

“It’s not fair,” he said when he pulled away. “Why do you have to leave? Why are you leaving me?”

“I just have to,” you said, fanning yourself as the sun beat down hotter than before. Yuji seemed unaffected, cocking his head at you for the odd behavior, but you only shrugged.

“Why can’t I go with you?” he said.

“You have to stay and protect the rest of the world,” you said. His brow furrowed, and you knew it was the same conflict that warred in him eternally springing to life once again. You did not want for him to be conflicted, though. He could not afford to be, not when everything was resting on his shoulders. “Yuji. Yuji, I’m so hot. Why aren’t you sweating? Why don’t you feel it?”

“What are you talking about?” he said in alarm. You stood, panting, pacing around to dissipate the blistering feeling crawling on your skin. “It’s the same temperature as before. It’s nice out, Y/N. Why are you acting like this?”

But it was not nice anymore, it was like you had been submerged in a vat of boiling water. Walking through the air felt like swimming, and in the corner of your vision, you saw something shimmer. It was a shade of red that you had not seen in so long; unbidden and despite your enduring discomfort, you grinned.

“Yuji,” you breathed. “Yuji, she’s here. It’s Kugisaki!”

“Where?” he said, head whipping about. You pointed at the visage of the girl, who was standing and waiting at the edge of the clearing, her hands folded behind her back and a placid smile on her face. “There’s no one there. Y/N, Y/N, please stop, there’s no one there…”

“She’s there,” you repeated, trying to tug him to his feet and finding that he was stuck by some invisible force. “She’s there.”

“Stop!” he said as you backed away, making his own effort to stand but finding himself unable to. You walked towards where Kugisaki was waiting for you, leaving the struggling Yuji behind. “Y/N, stop! Wait! Just one more minute, just give me that much!”

You turned to look at him one final time. He was reaching out for you, but you knew without really knowing how you did that it was futile. At least for now, he could not reach you. Kugisaki was beckoning you to a place that Yuji could not follow, a place that you did not even want him to.

He shook his head at you, one last, desperate effort that even he must’ve known was doomed to failure. “Please.”

You smiled at him. “Let’s not meet for a while, Yuji. Think about me every now and then, won’t you?”

With that, you took Kugisaki’s hand and allowed her to drag you somewhere far away, where you would never again know pain and the air was cool instead of searing, where you would wait until enough years had passed that you could see Yuji Itadori again.

[bcacstuff]

With him in SF in early September I wonder if they'll shoot S8 without any break. They are filming the 6th episode, with 4 weeks/block=2 eps. + 1 week for all table reads they should be done by end of August. The end is near & 12 years in the making by the time S8 airs.

I received a number of these similar asks in the last weeks already but didn't get to answer it in the way I wanted (sorry for the delay)

First of all to avoid some confusion, as far as I know he said he was gonna receive the SWF Award at Top Shelf event in October! I don't know why people keep saying September?

Caitriona's movie The Amateur was scheduled to be released on November 8, 2024, however the release is delayed and will now be on April 11, 2025

source

I do (of course) not have a filming schedule, so the short answer on will they have a summer break is; I don't know.

But we can speculate and think about a few things I considered. No facts of course, purely speculation.

Previous seasons we always could find some little clues and hints from time to time during filming, but this season it's extra hard. I shared what I could about location, but it's not always clear if it concerns OL S8 or BOB. That goes also for the clues we often would find on IG from the crew, which it seems are switching being busy on both series. The cast from BOB posts more little hints and clues than the cast from OL. Sometimes the supporting characters do, like today Kieran Bew

Kieran Bew IGS 21 June 2024

I also considered that S7 part 2 might have been altered a bit from how it was originally planned. As we were wondering during filming of S7 that there was no Fersali on set. Lauren and Cesar both were busy on other projects. But lately we've seen them again in Glasgow, and I really wonder if they filmed some extra scenes we will see in S7 part 2. It's hard to imagine how the storyline about Claire returning to the US, Philadelphia for Henri Christian's health problems (Fergus and Marsali's child) could omit Fersali. So perhaps they added scenes to S7 part 2, hence the long delay for it? (I could be completely wrong but we will know when it airs and if we'll see Fersali in S7 part 2 we know)

Anyway, we don't know where S7 part 2 ends, but if we are still in 3 different time periods (which does look that way given Diarmaid (Buck) seems to work on S8 as well, I figure not all cast is always needed on set. I do think, well actually am quite sure, some already had some time off in May. So perhaps, depending on the characters needed they scheduled it that way that people can have a wee break. I do wonder though about crew members, but perhaps BOB, which already started filming earlier this year will be done by July or so, and crew can take a wee break as well.

As for Sam, I do have an idea why his schedule didn't fit the Highlander con in July... but I keep that for my self for now. When time comes I'll see if I was right about it or not.