#you touched my life as surely as i touched you own???

[smutoperator]

New Year's Dinner

Kim Sohee x Male Reader (+3 more guys)

Tags: (lots of) anal, birthday, bubble butt, business meeting, cuckolding, dinner, double anal, (lots of) double penetration double vaginal, (lots of) facefucking, gangbang, hotwife, spanish, (a little) triple penetration/triple anal.

Happy Sohee Day and a Happy New Year

Word count: 4587

Since leaving the public eye some months ago, Sohee has kept a very low profile, sharing very little of her life with her fiancé and likely future husband. It's the last day of the year, which also happens to be her birthday, and she's with him preparing the new year's dinner.

Sohee's fiancé invited you to the dinner, as you were his most trusted friend from work, while also bringing a pair of Spanish businessmen, Ramon and Toni, to sign more deals for his company. "Happy birthday, Sohee; the food is delicious," you told her. "Thank you," she answered. Sohee is always happy to see you; in fact, she probably likes you more than her own fiancé, but he's got the money, and you don't.

"Would you like some coffee?" Sohee asks Toni. "Sí," he answers, and she's able to understand Spanish, serving him a cup of coffee. As Sohee bends over to serve him, you notice that she's not wearing any panties under her dress, and a white liquid is covering the entrance of her asshole.

You move your head to take a glimpse at Sohee's fantastic backside while making sure neither she nor her fiancé notice it, as you quickly talk some business with Ramon and Sohee's boyfriend.

But you weren't the only pervert in that room, far from it. Ramon also notices Sohee is wearing nothing under her shirt and attempts to touch her pussy, making her let out a small moan.

"Are you ok, baby?" her fiancé notices. "Yes, I'm fine," Sohee answers as she blushes a little. "I'll go to the kitchen and get some other stuff for you; the main course is almost ready," she says as Ramon keeps touching her under her skirt and gives her fat ass a big stare when she leaves. Luckily for him, her fiancé is too distracted with you and Toni talking to him.

"Tu novia tiene un culo muy grande," Ramon says to Sohee's fiancé. Lucky for him, he can't understand Spanish, but you can and give him a big smile. From your past times with Sohee, you know it doesn't take long for her ass to become the center of attention of any dudes conversations, but watching it time after time always makes you laugh.

"What did you say?" her fiancé asks Ramon. "This coffee is great; you're lucky to have a wife like Sohee," he answers. "Well, she's not my wife yet," the fiancé replies.

You leave the table and move towards the kitchen to check on Sohee. The first thing you're greeted with is her bending her fat ass as she checks the oven. "Do you need some help?" you ask her. "Sure, take those to the table," she replies, giving you some cutlery.

But your clumsy self strikes again, and you drop them on the floor. Well, not really; little does she know you did that on purpose so she could bend her ass again and give you a perfect view of that big butt that has hypnotized you since her idol days, and when Sohee faces you again, you make your move.

"HUH?" Sohee gasps, very confused, as you pull your cock out of your pants. Still as big as the last time she saw it many months ago when she was still dancing on music show stages. "What are you doing? Did you forget I'm not single anymore?" she tells you, baffled. "Yeah, I know, but he's not seeing it. I really miss you, Sohee, it's the last day of the year and your birthday too, and that's my gift to you," you say.

"That's very inappropriate; you're my fiancé's best friend," Sohee says to you. "Well, I saw that cum in your ass already; I can tell he already delivered such a good birthday gift you couldn't even bother to put your panties back on and flaunted it as a trophy. Don't fool me, Sohee, you're still the same bubble butt anal slut of your idol days," you say to her.

Sohee hesitates at first, but finally caves and pushes her head towards your shaft. Well, just like you missed her big butt, she missed your thick cock too, rolling her eyes and savoring it as if it was the first time she sucked it. it was maybe the 50th or so but it still tasted brand new to her.

"Good girl, that's it, take your birthday gift," you say to Sohee as she bobs her head on your pole and soon gets sloppy like she always does. Quickly you grab her head and start fucking her pretty face too. "I missed using this fucking mouth so much, oh fuck," you say as soon as she gags on your cock for the first time in a while. "Worship my fucking balls, you slut," you say to her as Sohee soon starts massaging them.

"Oh yeah, perfect," you say as Sohee gives you a big smile. A harder facefuck follows, your cock getting pushed deep in her mouth, and as she gags again, many bubbles come out of her mouth. "Holy shit, nobody sucks that cock better than you," you praise her, letting Sohee choke herself full of cock as she keeps deepthroating and bobbing her head on it, getting sloppier at each turn.

Sohee is already cock-drunk and ready for another round of crazy sucking until she hears some footsteps, and another guy appears to the side of you.

"OH MY GOD!" WHAT IS HAPPENING?" a surprised Sohee asks when Toni also pulls his cock out of his pants. "Did you plan this?" Sohee asks you. "Maybe," you say to her.

Sohee takes Toni's cock in her mouth as you watch her suck his soul the same way she did to you. She jerks your shaft off, never losing sight of it, and then takes turns sucking one guy and masturbating the other, getting increasingly fast. "Oh yes, baby," both of you say as Sohee makes a sloppy mess of both your cocks.

"You like the way I suck these two cocks while my fiancé is alone at the table?" a naughty Sohee asks as she sticks her tongue out. It turns out she loves being a slutty cheater. Who would have guessed?

Sohee keeps taking turns sucking you and Toni's cocks, moving further down to give their balls some extra love. "Oh, I love sucking those dicks like that," she says as more bubbles come out of her mouth and she keeps gags on them. "Oh, I'm fucking suffocating on these cocks," she says. She deepthroats you, and saliva runs down her chin. "That feels so fucking good," she says.

Unfortunately, the noises she was fearing finally came out of the dining room. "Sohee, where is the dinner?" her fiance says it loud and she hears it. Quickly trying to pretend what she just did never happened, Sohee collects herself, lowering her skirt as her fat ass is way to exposed. She rushes in the direction of the oven only to find out that the turkey she had prepared had been burned as she got too distracted sucking a different kind of meat.

"I'm sorry, but the dinner is facing some issues," Sohee says. But her fiancé already knows as he can feel the burnt smell slowly creeping into the room. "It's fine; we're going to have a different kind of dinner tonight," he says.

"What do you mean?" Sohee asks. "Get on the table; you'll be tonight's dinner. we're gonna celebate your birthday and a happy 2025 with a bang, Sohee," he says. "What are you talking about?" Sohee keeps asking. "What do you think I invited all of them tonight?" her fiance rhetorically asks.

Sohee feels a bit upset that you guys were playing with her. But she never passes on an opportunity to get banged by multiple dudes since the first time she became a sensation due to her big butt and got to do it. She quickly lifts her skirt up, showing off her best asset completely uncovered and climbing on the top of the table.

"This is crazy," Sohee says, but her husband quickly puts a stop to it. "Stop playing dumb; this is exactly what you wanted, you fucking slut. You told me yesterday your birthday wish was a gangbang, and I knew you meant it," he continues, spanking her fat ass.

Ramon and Toni are already smelling blood as they start pinching Sohee's meaty pussy. You just watch, with a big smile on her face. In the end, things always come full circle. Regardless of her retirement, Sohee will always be that bubble butt slut that will be forever remembered, and tonight is the perfect time for her to show it.

Sohee gets spit-roasted like a turkey, as it doesn't take long for her fiancé to shove his cock in her pussy while Toni and Ramon shut her mouth at the same time. She moans and pleases their cocks while you watch Sohee morph into the big slut she's always been, getting her face fucked and pussy pounded. Soon you join them as you three take turns fucking her face. "Keep sucking that cock," you tell her as each guy gives her throat violent poundings while her fiancé is now the one watching it.

The four dudes encircle Sohee as she moves from cock to cock. Her mouth and hands are always full as she makes sure to give all of them the needed attention. More facefucking comes while some guys also slap their cocks in her face. "Open your mouth, take those cocks; you like that?" you command Sohee as your turn to fuck her face arrives. You also pinch her covered tits for good measure.

You guys rip Sohee's clothes off her hot body in a matter of seconds while also getting yourselves completely naked. Her pretty face is already a mess full of saliva after so much choking on your big cocks. Toni spins her, and each guy tries to reach and hit her ass when it's facing them.

Toni sends Sohee's face in the direction of her fiancé's cock while inserting his in her pussy. She lets out a little scream, getting caught by surprise but already knowing what's going to happen to her in that room: she's going to get passed around like a hot potato. Toni lifts her left leg while her fiancé grabs her arms and fucks her face, giving her an acrobatic spit-roasting while you just watch and jerk your cock off to the scene alongside Ramon.

Sohee gets spun around as her fiancé lets you take a turn on her next. Toni grabs her head and shoves his cock in her face as her belly now faces upward and her lower body is wide open for you to take it. And you don't disappoint, lifting her body and pounding her pussy while Toni makes Sohee choke on his cock, her fiancé laughing in the background as Sohee gets freely used by both your cocks.

"AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, YEAHHHH." Sohee screams as you soon switch to fucking her fat ass while Toni keeps pounding her throat balls deep. All her fiancé does is laugh. Sohee lets out another scream as Toni grabs her and puts her body right on Ramon's lap, and soon he shoves his cock in her ass.

But things didn't stop there as Toni quickly flipped around and put his cock in Sohee's pussy. "Oh fuck, straight to the fucking DP?" Sohee says as both spaniard cocks stuff her at the same time. "Me gusta demasiado ser follada por grandes pollas españolas," she follows it up with some spanish.7

"Put that fucking cock close to her mouth," Sohee tells you as she already goes airtight, and you pound her throat like crazy. "FUCK THOSE HOLES, USE ME LIKE A SLUT, FASTER, FASTER," she commands as soon as your cock slightly slips out of her mouth. Ramon and Toni act like a perfect duo, using Sohee's ass and pussy to perfection. Her fiancé follows suit as he takes Toni's place in her pussy. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK." Sohee tries to scream but your cock muffles her mouth.

You enjoy watching Sohee scream as she gets stuffed like a holiday dinner, putting your balls in her face and making her lick it while she gets relentlessly pounded on both her holes. You slap your cok in her face, and she reaches to massage your butthole from behind. "GIVE ME ALL THOSE COCKS," she keeps commanding. "You mean like that?" her fiance asks, choking her and pounding her pussy even harder. "YES, LIKE THAT," she answers.

"YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FUCK, PUT THOSE FUCKING COCKS IN ME," Sohee screams. You finally get your turn in her pussy as Ramon is more than happy to keep proving the anal anchor role in the DP for a little longer. Sohee puts her legs up and spreads them, welcoming your meat in her pussy. "Ah yeah, you guys want to stuff me so bad," Sohee says as you stretch her pussy out and slap and grope her tits, her fiancé staring at her hot body getting used and choking her.

"AHHHH, HARDER, HARDER," Sohee keeps demanding as she seems unfazed by the crazy DP that she's taking, truly a top-notch slut. "YES, CHOKE ME LIKE ABTICH," Sohee says as she jerks her fiancé's dick. As Ramon takes a little break from Sohee's loosened-up asshole and rubs his cock in her fat buttcheeks, you seize the opportunity and take his place inside her butthole. "YES, YES, FUCK MY ASS," Sohee says.

The traffic of cocks around Sohee's fuckhole is like rush hour on a congested highway. Too many cocks for too little space. Each guy just instinctively fitting his cock in the first hole that comes open, no matter if it is her ass, pussy, or mouth. "AHHHHH FUCK," she screams as both you and Ramon get in her ass at the same time, but Toni is quickly there to shut her mouth, and her fiancé comes in to insert just a little of his cock in her pussy, meaning Sohee experiences an airtight triple penetration even if for just a little.

You guys reset things up for another round as you sit on the couch, and Sohee immediately goes in your direction, impaling her pussy on your dick. "GIVE ME ALL THOSE COCKS," she commands and quickly gets, getting swarmed in just a couple seconds as her fiancé penetrates her ass and Toni and Ramon stuff her mouth balls deep.

"OH FUCK, THAT'S IT. OH MY GOD USE MY ASS," Sohee screams really loud as her fiance gives her butthole crazy angry thrusts, maybe he doesn't like having her getting passed around by all those guys that much and is punishing her. You seize the opportunity and pump up Sohee's push as her body gets thrown hard into yours and the couch. You spread her ass and anchor another DP as Sohee gets her butthole stretched out by Ramon while Toni fucks her face. "AH FUCK," she screams again as they pound her fat ass at full speed and then take turns feeding it for Sohee to taste as she remains airtight at all moments.

You and Ramon switch positions and give Sohee the perfect airtight DP, so much so that her fiancé starts filming it as you grab her waist and pound Sohee's big fat butt, Ramon thrusts into her pussy, and Toni fucks her face, all three cocks working in perfect sync and using her like the perfect big butt slut she is. "FUCKKKKKK, YES, YES, YES, PUT THOSE COCKS IN MY HOLES," she screams. I LOVE IT," she screams, getting messier ad messier while you let her fiance pound her ass too.

The DP continues for a few more minutes as Sohee gets passed around like a hot potato, you, her fiancé, and Toni happily taking turns between her ass and her mouth while Ramon just chills at the bottom, fucking her pussy. The truth is there is no better position than cowgirl to stuff Sohee, as her fat ass stands out amidst all those cocks fighting to penetrate her naughty fuckholes while she gets drilled hard, her butt spanked until her flesh pops out, her face completely wasted and sweaty as your cocks can't stop using it like an onahole. "AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sohee screams each time a cock is out of her mouth. She keeps with this tune until you surprise her with a sudden move.

"AHHHH, TWO COCKS IN MY PUSSY?" Sohee exclaims, and indeed she's right, as both you and Ramon now stretch her cunt together. "Hopefully," you say, spanking her ass as her pussy. "OH FUCK, YEAH, TWO COCKS IN MY FUCKING PUSSY, THAT'S SO GOOD, FUCK YES, USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY," she says as she chokes on Toni's cock while both you and Ramon stretch her cunt to the fullest, you adding a thumb to her asshole, spoiling your next move.

Sohee sits in her fiancé's lap as she moves her head from side to side, taking turns stuffing her mouth with Toni and Ramon's cocks. Meanwhile, you stay behind her stuffing her fat ass. "AHHHH FUCKKK," she screams as she knows no one fucks that big ass better than you do in that position, using her butthole to please yourself in the most animalesque way possible.

"OH, THAT'S DEEP," Sohee screams as you sodomize her like crazy. "STUFF THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE," she keeps demanding, you taking it hard while her fiancé pumps her pussy. "AHHHHH, FUCKKK, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," she keeps screaming as her butthole gets loosed up.

FUCKKKKK, TWO FUCKING COCKS IN MY PUSSY AGAIN," Sohee celebrates as Toni takes your place and stuffs her from behind right in her pussy while she savors the taste of her asshole from your cock. He then switches to her ass and pounds Sohee hard, making her scream and spanking it. "Taste it, bitch," he says.

Toni gives his cock to Sohee for her to taste while Ramon fucks her ass. "YES, THERE YOU GO, THERE YOU GO," she screams. You spank her tits while her fiancé covers her face, allowing you to get around and stick your cock back in Sohee's cunt. "YES, YES, USE ALL MY FUCKING HOLES," she commands as she receives a sideways DP from you and Ramon. "She can take it anywhere," her fiancé says.

"What are you saying?" Sohee's fiancé pokers her as Toni stuffs his cock in her mouth, balls deep, and puts her airtight again. "FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK ME HARDER," Sohee screams as soon as her mouth is uncovered. "You want to ride all of us one by one?" Toni asks her as Sohee agrees to jump on his cock.

Toni grabs Sohee's body and fucks her pussy. "Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck," she repeatedly says as he hammers his cock upwards in her cunt, Sohee masturbating herself to cope with the heat. "AHHHHHHHHHH YEAH," she screams as he keeps going. "Next cock," Toni says, giving her ass a little tap as Sohee moves to you and you pound her pussy in a similar manner. "AHHHH, YES, YES, YES," she says. "Next guy," Ramon says, as it's his turn, putting Sohee a little sideways and pounding her pussy. "Use your feet and jerk his cock off," he orders as he switches to her ass while she performs a footjob on her fiancé. Finally, her fiancé shoves his cock in her ass and pounds her to oblivion.

"Go, go, go, keep going," the guys cheer on Sohee as her fat ass gets destroyed. "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AHHHHHH," Sohee screams as she gets drilled hard. "Can you do it, slut?" Ramon asks. "Turn around; I'm going to fuck your pussy," Ramon says as Sohee gets back to his cock, and he spanks her ass while pounding her stretched-out cunt. But he doesn't get back to you as her fiancé comes in and stuffs her ass alongside him.

"Turn around," you tell Sohee as your turn comes, upset that he had to wait a little bit more. You put her in a full nelson and pound her asshole at full speed, Sohee smiling. "Oh fuck, I like that; stretch that fucking ass, yes, hit your fucking balls in my pussy like that," Sohee begs.

"You wanna put your cock in there? I want your cock in there too," Sohee tells Toni as he domes in and delivers a second dick in her ass. "Oh yeah, you want it in my ass?" Sohee asks, very excited, as you anchor her in the DP, and Toni pounds her asshole hard.

"DON'T FUCKING STOP, TWO FUCKING COCKS IN MY ASS, AHHHHH, I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM," Sohee screams as she gets pumped hard. You and Toni reach your hands into her pussy and start building her juices up until she explodes in a squirting fountain. "Come for us, bitch; there you go," you say as she squirts.

"YOU GUYS ARE SO DEEP IN MY FUCKING HOLES, AHHHHH," Sohee screams again as her fiancé and Ramon now take turns fucking her ass and pounding her, pressing her body to the couch, her fiancé extremely jealous and wanting to split her in half. "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps screaming. Toni is next as he takes her sideways in her ass, making her tits bounce hard as he drills her like an animal.

Sohee keeps getting passed around, landing with her head on the ground as you pound her ass in a pile driver position. "Open that ass, show me your fucking hole," you say. Sohee is a screaming mess as you toy with her, switching between her ass and pussy. One guy pulls out; another comes in as the pile-driving assfucking keeps going for many minutes. Sohee can't even think straight at this moment, as she's the best birthday gift she could get. "Squirt for us again, slut," you demand of her.

"Let me take you up," Ramon brings Sohee back on her feet only to quickly lift her in the air and insert his cock in her pussy again. You come from behind and stuff her in the ass, giving Sohee a standing DP. "Oh my God," Sohee moans as she's about to get double stuffed again. "You take it so fucking well," Ramon says as she bounces on both cocks, you also groping her tits. "Put it in that fucking hole right there," she demands as she gets carried in the air and rides both cocks like a pro.

"Vamos a follar a esta puta hasta que no pueda caminar," Toni tells Ramon as the Spaniard duo now shares Sohee, her back at the lifted spit-roasting position at the very beginning of the gangbang, Ramon drilling her ass while Toni drills her face. Once they are done, Toni brings Sohee back to the couch. "Put your ass up," he demands. Sohee obliges as she keeps screaming like a whore, her fat ass once again in prime position for more drilling.

"Hey guys, let's fuck that ass a little more," you tell. "You want to fuck it right there?" Sohee asks as she fists her butthole, loosening it up further for more anal bombardment. You try to stick your cock and double-stuff her ass alongside her fist, but it's so deep you have to settle for her pussy. Sohee then opens her ass, and you fuck her, gaping her hard as you mount on top of her and hit her balls deep in the ass. "AHHHH OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THAT'S DEEP," Sohee screams.

The other guys follow suit as they take turns fucking Sohee's ass. She can't even walk at this point, her hair completely messed as she gets drilled nonstop. "There you go, fuck yeah, AHHHHHH," Sohee moans. The guys spit on her butthole, play, and take their cocks in and out of it, drill it hard, spit roast her, fuck her face, and do anything they can to use Sohee's sexy, slutty body, and especially her fat bubble butt, they do.

The guys keep taking turns fucking Sohee on all fours, spanking her ass hard, and switching between her throbbing cunt and her used-up asshole. She's on the verge of collapsing, but you guys don't stop. You make Sohee rim your asshole as Ramon sticks it in her pussy and Toni comes in from behind for a sideways DP this time. "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK YES, RIGHT THERE," Sohee screams as the two Spaniards double-stuff her, and you impale her mouth with your sword, her husband now just watching as she gets used like a fuckdoll.

"We need to try one last thing with this bitch," you tell both Toni and Ramon. Sohee gets on all fours on the couch, and the cocks start coming in. First Ramon, then Toni, then yours, and soon, she announces.

"OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH MY GOD, OHHHHH," Sohee screams endlessly. "What's going on?" you ask her. "I'VE GOT THREE COCKS IN MY ASS," she says as your cock, Ramon's, and Toni's fight for the very little space in Sohee's ass.

"Let's try again," you say as you guys reorganize yourselves to fit your cocks deeper in Sohee's ass. "OH MY GOD, OH, MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she goes back to screaming as she gets triple penetrated. If there is one fat ass worth of having three big cocks stretching it out, it has to be Sohee's. "OH FUCK, OH FUCK, THREEE FUCKING COCKS IN MY ASS AGAIN," she tries to scream, but this time her fiancé is there to cover her mouth.

All guys fuck. Sohee's face hard following the triple stuffing, turning her into nothing but a cock whore. "Don't stop for a second," you say as her mouth once again becomes a cock repository. Sohee is completely out of breath, and you guys are also very close to draining your balls, as Ramon soon announces.

"Vamos a llenar a esta puta de semen," the Spaniard says as Sohee dives from cock to cock to have one final taste of those thick pricks. "Give me all that fucking cum, cover my face; I want this for my birthday," she begs. It doesn't take long for Sohee to get the first load, a big fat blast from her fiancé. "Give me more, give me more," she begs. Next is Ramon, as he glazes her eyes and the left side of her face, full of cum. "Yeah, get it in my fucking eyes," she says. Toni follows suit and surprises Sohee with a bullseye shot on the right side before you finish it off with a big blast right in the center of her face. "Happy birthday, Sohee, you bubble butt cumslut," you say to her, covering her face with your sperm just seconds before the clock strikes midnight and a new year starts.

"That was a wonderful dinner," Ramon says afterwards. Sohee agrees, so she makes a proposal. "Let's do it every month," she says. And indeed, the two Spaniards decided to make sure to make it happen, as they signed the contract with Sohee's fiancé company with a clause that read.

"He must let us gangbang his fiancée/future wife every month.".

Truly a contract inked with cum.

[hoseoksluna]

LITTLE JUICE | JJK

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut, pwp

rating: 18+

summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.

luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.

luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 

The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 

No BS by Chris Brown.

The song that started it all.

Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.

You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 

TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 

You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 

Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 

Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 

He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 

You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 

You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 

Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 

You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” 

Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 

Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 

Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.

It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 

You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 

Your hips. 

A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 

He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 

You’re in trouble. 

Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 

“Did you get wet for me?” 

A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 

For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 

Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 

But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 

You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”

His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 

He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 

“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 

The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 

Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 

A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 

You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 

And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 

You place your hands on top of his. 

A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 

It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 

Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 

You hump him. 

“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 

This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 

But the moment is ruined all too soon. 

A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 

You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 

Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 

A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 

You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 

Smart man. 

“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 

He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 

“They’re gone.” 

And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 

A hungry look is wrung into his features. 

The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 

He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 

Five torturous days. 

“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 

You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 

The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 

He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 

You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 

“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 

You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 

Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 

“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 

You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 

He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 

“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”

And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 

And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 

“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 

Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 

You leak for him, nonetheless. 

Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 

“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 

Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 

But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 

Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 

The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 

Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 

Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 

Not even as you come down from your high. 

Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 

Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 

“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 

Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 

“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 

You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 

Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 

“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 

In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 

There it is. 

“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 

You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 

Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 

“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 

His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 

And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 

You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 

You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 

You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 

“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 

“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 

Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 

He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 

Your life is over.

“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 

He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 

“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 

And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 

The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 

And he doesn’t pull away. 

He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 

You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 

Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 

The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.

“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 

Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 

His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.

“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 

The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 

“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 

You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 

An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 

He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 

At home, you fuck him hard for it. 

With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 

He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 

And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[redwinelew]

knee socks | lewis hamilton

summary | singer!y/n released a song which exposes lewis' lack of attention toward her in their relationship and he isn't too pleased with it.

warnings | 18+. smut. oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, vaginal sex, dirty talk, lewis being a little mean, english is not my first language, pls lmk what else i missed

author's note | i have nothing to post rn and this has been sitting in my drafts so weeks so here you go. lmk if u guys enjoy this and if u want me to write more written fics.

lewis is a private man, he made that clear all throughout his life, since the first world championship trophy was handed to him, the moments everybody's eyes in the world started to set on him, following his every move, to this day. he doesn't like channeling his personal matters to the public. sure there are a lot of people who'd be interested to know, journalists who would sell their souls for an exclusive interview with him, but nothing can make him give up his peace anymore. he had his moments when he was younger. everything was open to interpretation for the media and fans. but as he gets older, things changed. private life should stay private.

you are a musician. and it's risky, dating a musician. he's seen it. he's been with one, and he is one. he thought he already knew, he thought he understood what he was getting himself back into. you are different from his ex. you make your own music, write your own songs, not afraid to be vulnerable through your art, never care however fans and media are going to interpret them. they'll never know the truth. it's none of their business anyway. he doesn't regret dating you, though. nothing could make him regret being with you. he wouldn't trade it even for his 8th championship.

but deep down, lewis knows this day will come. where a little inconvenience happens in your relationship was enough to set you off completely. the day where you stopped listening to the logical part of your brain and follow your heart instead. the day you pissed off enough to finally say fuck it.

in your defense, you were so caught up in your feelings. part of you also honestly didn't care. you are a singer, a musician, as much as he is. this is how you express yourself. he should have known that by now. if he didn't want the whole world to know how fucking busy he is with the race season to the point where he never spent time with you anymore, he should have pay more attention to you.

you would have argued with that if only you could form a single coherent sentence right now. but all you could say was—

"please...."

do not ask how long has this been going on. he could lie and say hours and you'll believe it. he could ask you to do anything and you'll obey. it's not like you have a choice. if it pleases him, if it will somehow get you the release you have been desperately craving, fucking hell, you'll do it. that's how it is right now. you, half naked on the bed. pants discarded somewhere on the carpeted bedroom floor. panties gone to fuck knows where. his old band t-shirt that you're wearing is pushed up, exposing your belly and almost your chest.

him? in between your legs. inked hands holding your thighs open for his tongue to explore your folds in every way he knows, drawing all kinds of sounds out of you, pushing you to the edge again and again but not quite giving you the release you've been desperately needing. not after what you said about him in the song, no.

a whine escapes your lips yet again when he pulls himself off of you just as you're about to reach another peak. he looks up, a smirk decorating his face as his tongue licks your arousal from his thick lips.

bastard.

"i didn't ask you to beg." he replies calmly, caressing your inner thigh all the way up to your knee, making you almost jerk up at the slightest of his touch.

of course he is calm. he's enjoying this. torturing you. driving you insane. god how you wish the tables are turn right now. how you wish that you have the energy to flip the two of you and get your revenge on him, showing him how it feels to be in your shoes. he'd be worse than you are right now. you can say that confidently because you've seen it. some rare moments where he handed over the control to you, letting you take charge in bed and do whatever you wanted to him. easiest way to say, he was a mess.

"you're not being fair—" was instead all you could say in such a pathetic tone that even you did not recognize yourself.

"i wasn't planning to be."

your pussy clenches around nothing at the casualness of his reply. your mind is pissed at him for ruining your orgasms but your body couldn't help but craving for his touch. you've seen the dominance side of him almost every night and yet the calmness that he's radiating right now even though you know how angry he is at you and your song is enough to send shivers down your spine.

there's something about lewis being angry and yet not completely showing it.

it turns you on even more.

"tell me what i want to hear first." he demands, his thick digits rubbing your bundle of nerves. your back arches into his touch. your eyelids flutter, broken moans fall from your lips.

the pleasure didn't last long. a soft, frustrated sigh leaves you as do his fingers from your clit. just when you were going to try catching your breath, he plunges two fingers inside without warning.

"fuck— oh my god—"

he hovers above you, eyes never leaving your face, watching your every reaction, the way your jaw hangs low. the thickness of his digits makes you feel so full already, you couldn't form neither words nor sounds.

"fuck, fuck—" and when he moves his fingers, you already saw heaven. the wet squelching sound from your arousal is so sinful it almost made you feel embarrassed at how wet you still are even after having your pleasure punished by him. your hand reaches up to his free arm near your head, clinging to him for support. your nails dig deep into his inked skin, drawing a silent hiss from him.

"come on," he says again. "tell me what i want to hear."

this might be it. he's fingering you with passion, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, making your legs tremble. he never half-assed anything in his life, especially when it comes to your pleasure but something tells you that maybe this is when he thinks that you have had your lesson and it's time you give you that release. he just loves you that much. and you always get what you want.

"n-no." you stutter in defiance.

he smirks again. your denial only makes this more fun for him, which is apparent in the way his fingers move rougher and faster right now. and you notice how his other digits are avoiding your clit, making it a little harder for you to reach another peak.

"four orgasms denied and you still wanna be stubborn?"

only four? it felt like hundreds, you manage to think to yourself despite how hazy your mind feels right now.

"please...." you croak out, and that's how far you'll beg for his forgiveness.

but he's not satisfied. he pulls out his fingers, and you would have groaned if you could even speak right now.

"no...."

"don't worry, sweetie," he cuts you off surprisingly, sitting up straight again. you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he lines up the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing your folds slightly. you feel as if air has been knocked out of your lungs. you didn't even think that this was a possibility tonight, to be fucked by him. to feel his thick cock inside you. genuinely you thought he would leave you high and dry, though it's very unlikely for him. but still. he could truly be that cruel when he wants to.

"i'll make you come if that's what you wanted so badly. but only on my cock. and i'll make you come again and again until i finally get my apology."

you swallow thickly.

that is certainly a promise.

[xoxochb]

Being percy's plus one to sally's wedding as oblivious friends who have feelings for each other 😩

oooo this is genius!!!!!!

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“I’m kinda surprised this cake isn’t blue.”

percy laughs at this. “believe me, I tried my hardest to get it to be.”

“that does not surprise me.” you finish off the last bite of your cake quickly, placing your spoon on the empty plate. “it was delicious anyways.”

you lean back against the lacy chair, watching as percy practically devours his own piece.

correction, third piece. how he ate that all, you were unsure. you had known him for years yet this remained a life-long mystery. when he finishes, he takes your plate and places it over his own to make a pile of them to throw away later.

the spring breeze blows gently, tousling your half tied hair. you take your eyes off percy (finally) and take glances around the garden, to the people chatting lightly, and to the gift table filled to the brim, and the bride and groom who share slices of cake with each other.

eventually, your gaze lands back on your best friend, but to your surprise his eyes are trained on you intently. your eyes lock with his own green ones.

“you look nice,” he says softly. it’s such an intimate tone, you’re sure far too much for two friends. “have I told you that yet?”

your cheeks flush a light shade of pink. you nod. “yes, twice today.”

“well, then I’m telling you again.”

you roll your eyes playfully, making no attempt to stifle the faintest laughs slipping from your lips.

“you’re an idiot.”

percy shrugs. “only for you, sweet girl.”

“mhm, of course.”

silence falls between the two of you again. and at last, he manages to pry his eyes from the heavenly sight that was you. with this opportunity you admire him yourself hopefully unbeknownst to him.

his raven hair blows alongside the wind, though somewhat messy still looking natural and as soft as ever. his eyes, so green as the sea, the same going for his scent, never failing. and you take notice that his cheeks are tinted, only faintly and you assume not more than yours.

and of course you couldn’t forget—

“care for a dance, (name)?”

you furrow your brows. “you want me to slow dance with you?”

“who else would I do it with?”

he stands up from his seat, extending his hand for you to take. gratefully, you do, letting him pull you up and drag you to where other couples dance peacefully to the slow music.

he takes both of your arms with his hands, guiding them to rest lazily over his shoulders. with this, his own hands rest on your waist. slowly, you begin swaying to the music.

his touch is delicate, diligent. you melt into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. soon following, his head rests against your own. your tummy feels fluttery inside. you let your hold tighten only slightly.

and for a bit, you blended in with all the other couples.

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ ─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c

Also a big ty and ily to @ink-and-dagger because DWM is the best fic on the internet and you should read it immediatelly! They're the main reason for me coming back to writing after YEARS, yes it is that good C: GO READ IT NOW OR REREAD IT IDC

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ ─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

A violent cough escaped your lips, food remains mixed with blood landed on the undoubtedly expensive silverware before you. A warm hand found its way to your back, moving in soothing circles, while you tried to catch your breath. You frowned at the mess you made, tears slowly clouding your vision.

,,I'm so sorry" you whispered in embarrassment, looking down at your weak, trembling hands.

"Don’t," Silco muttered, his brow furrowed as he wiped your face gently. "I shouldn’t have let you eat at the table. You’re too weak, my love." His tone was firm, but the action was oddly tender. It felt as though you were a child being cared for by a doting mother. But the difference was evident - you were a grown woman, and he was your husband, at least that’s what he told you.

"We're going back to bed now, that's enough stress for you today, beloved," he said without a second's hesitation, immediately picking you up and heading towards the bedroom as you whimpered in his hold. It was the first time Silco had allowed you to be anywhere beyond your bedroom or the bathroom. Sitting at the table, rather than being spoon fed by him while lying in bed felt strangely liberating, a brief moment of freedom you hadn’t realized you craved so much. 

,,It's morning" you were certain he heard your complaints, yet he chose to ignore them as he tucked you under the covers of an annoyingly comfortable bed. You felt like you had explored every nook and cranny of that room a hundred times, and stepping outside of it felt like a trip to an amusement park.

The matress beside you dipped under his weight, while his hand started to softly carress your hair

,,I'll bring you your medicine, you'll feel better then, alright?" his touch traveled over your temple, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear ,, I'll be right next to you, I'll read the reports and you'll fall asleep cuddled up to me, warm and soft" a delicate kiss landed on your head "Just like you used to"

It's been 2 weeks since you woke up. A dense fog shrouded your mind, obscuring everything. Who are you? What is your name? These seemingly simple questions only deepened the ache in your head. The pain had been unbearable then - every little movement was difficult. Your body felt exhausted and weak, as if it was pushing against the limits of its own capabilities.

It felt as though you had been dragged through hell and back—there was no other way to explain the state you were in. For the first few days, you burned with fever, teetering on the edge of consciousness, struggling to hold on to even a fleeting sense of reality.

In those brief moments when you managed to grasp even a sliver of reality around you, there was always that one hand gently touching your forehead, that one voice soothing your nerves, whispering sweet words of comfort.

You felt then as if some higher power took pity on your tormented soul, sending you an angel who became your only anchor in all this madness, his presence was like a silent ray of light piercing through the thick fog of pain. Every time his presence was felt, your whole body seemed to cry out for his touch, as if he was the only cure for the pain, the only being who could heal you. You were sure that if only you could, you would pull him to you, locking him in a strong embrace.

The reality turned out to be much more bitter than you expected.

When you first saw his face, a crushing feeling of terror ran through your body, unable to move on your own, completely at the mercy of this strange man. Your body trembled on its own with his every touch, almost trying desperately to scream for you to run away, the complete opposite of your imaginary savior. 

At first you thought it was just his appearance that made you so terrified, and you couldn't help but feel disgusted with yourself.

Yet despite his terrifying, almost inhuman eye and wounded face, the fear you felt ran deeper. It was some intangible, subconscious force that told you to stay away, as if something in his presence dangerously shook your intuition.

At first glance, you could already tell that he was an extremely elegant and wealthy man. His clothes were woven with gold and silver threads, perfectly fitting his figure, as if it was an indispensable part of him.

You were convinced that this place belonged to him. The opulence and grandeur of this bedroom made you feel almost alien, like you had no right to be there, like all this luxury didn't suit you in any way.

But the way he looked at you made you feel like you were a priceless treasure, a million times more valuable and beautiful than anything he ever owned. Only then did you begin to consider that it was the same person who had been standing by your bed all those days. His face immediately softened when he noticed you were no longer desperately trying to get away from him.

He told you everything, not taking his eyes off your face, as if he was looking for any reaction in it, as if each of your glances could reveal something he hadn't said yet. "I am Silco, Duke of Zaun, you are (Y/N), my only, dearest wife" the way he said it, as if it was a sacred thing, known to the world for centuries. He knelt down in front of your bedside, took your cold hand in his and gave it a kiss that involuntarily made everything inside you instantly quiet, your fear, the trembling of your body, the accelerated heartbeat audible in your ears, and probably your common sense.

A month ago, when your carriage was attacked by his enemies, their goal was him - but fate would have it that he wasn't with you in that moment. Against all odds, despite your wounds, you managed to escape, the only survivor. Amidst the raging storm, you wandered breathlessly through the forest, with every moment your wounds were deepening, and your strength was fading. Surely at some point you had to fall, the doctors said that the wound on the back of your head was critical.

You felt the internal pain that he must have experienced, almost spilling over to you. Every word he spoke carried pain and indescribable sadness, as if what he was telling was not only a story but also a painful memory that would not give him peace.

You sat there, legs pulled up to your chest, heart beating at an accelerated pace. Although you tried to make a sound, the words died in your throat, and the huge lump that was stuck there prevented you from saying anything. Finally, unable to contain your emotions, tears began to flow, silently running down your cheeks. 

The moment he pulled you to him and locked you in a tight embrace you were unable to resist , or tell if his embrace was a gesture of a  savior or the bonds of an executioner. 

You closed your eyes and gave yourself into his hands

You wouldn't get an answer.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ ─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

A terrible coldness took over your body, you opened your eyes the moment an icy gust of wind touched your face. You groggily sat up, to your surprise the door to Silco's office was wide open, compared to the darkness of the bedroom, a faint glow of a dancing candle flame was emerging from that room. Your feet touched the cold floorboards, and the sound of your own breathing seemed exaggeratedly loud

And it was only when the door handle was within reach of your hand that you realized you were able to move without Silco's help. Your legs no longer seemed to disobey you, standing no longer made you nauseous, and the inevitable headache disappeared.

The office was shrouded in mist, and its humidity made you slowly squint. The candle flame seemed to shimmer more and more intensely in your eyes, its light reflecting aggressively on the dark walls. Could it be smoke and not mist? Surely such a small candle couldn't do that, a fire had to start somewhere. As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you felt it,

As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you felt it - the sharp smell of burning forcefully entered your lungs. Choking, ragged breaths spasmed from your throat. As you grabbed your neck, and tried to back away to the bedroom, only a blank wall stood where the door had been, as if it had never been there.

"Ṣ̷͇͓͚̓̍a̶̭͒v̷͉̹̦̊̋̿ẻ̷̳ ̵̪͔̭̓̿͑͝ư̸̖ͅs̸̻͚̯͐" a desperate cry echoed in your ears, your eyes wandering around the room in panic. But the blinding glow of the candle flames made everything around them merge into one, as if time and space had ceased to exist.

"I̷͗͐͜t̷̢͇̪͗͆͝'̸̘̟̕s̶͈̘͝ ̶̺̞͈͓͆̒̓͘h̷̜̥̙͚̄͐̏̕ì̷̟̙͇̭̐̑̕s̶̢͖̏ ̶͇͝f̵͓͋ą̸̘͔̤͐̍̌ú̵̹̕l̵̨͎̈́̒̓́t̴͉̬͒̍.̷̡̣̭́.̵̡̯̠̋̓.̸̩̭͍͎̈́͊́͐" screams, sobs, dying breaths, desperate attempts to catch even a moment of respite. In the background, that terrifying, constant sound of burning wood, as if the world was about to fall to pieces.

"Y̴̜̎̔͛͂o̴͔̎ṵ̷̾͆̊̈r̴̟̜͚͂͌͘ ̵̢̖͙̫́̄f̵̰̚a̷͈̽͋̀͝ủ̵͙͑̕l̷̹̳̻͖̈͝ţ̸̐͋"

[shes-an-artist]

Popcorn

summary: You teach the recovering Winter Soldier how to make popcorn

Warnings: post-hydra Winter Soldier ~ recovery from trauma ~ domestic fluff ~ soft!winter soldier ~ general fluff ~mention of trafficking, nothing more

AN: Personally, popcorn is one of my favorite snacks, so I wondered what it would be like sharing with the Winter Soldier. Also this is dedicated to @embarnes for their amazing little series of which this cannot compare to.

Word Count: 1693 words

It had been so long since he had come to you for most things, he was pretty self-sufficient when it came to normal things, his own care, feeding himself, all good things. But you had come to crave the days he came to you with a shirt and asked if you could help him. He was very minimal in his speech, making it rather childlike and quite adorable when he did come to you with small or simple tasks.

It was good, his progress. You could only hope now he could be left on his own sooner rather than later…

Anyways, you had only three weaknesses. Black-and-white movies, popcorn and him. Mix all three together? Oh boy was it the time of your life.

You enjoyed showing Bucky— or as he referred to himself, Soldat, how to make things like cookies or bread. But he was fascinated when you had first returned to the living room with a bowl full of buttery flaky goodness you called popcorn. And when he tasted it, oh my, he was hooked. He practically begged you to make more when the bowl was empty. To which you happily complied.

He loved it, he watched you make it, taking in breathes of the buttery scent from the kitchen. You sometimes even made it just for him even when he didn’t ask for it. You just saw that look and headed for the kitchen.

One slow evening, he approached you silently, the jar where you kept the kernels in his mismatched hands.

“Hi.” You greeted, offering a smile. “Whatcha got there?”

“Popcorn.” He looked to the jar. “Make, please.”

“Alright, bring that into the kitchen then.” You stood up and turned on the stove as you passed the knobs. Grabbing the large pot in which you made the snack in, you set it on the burner. You never liked microwave popcorn, too buttery in your opinion, so you stove-popped yours. It gave it sort of a homemade flavor.

“Tell you what,” You looked to the soldier as he gingerly set the jar on the wooden countertop of the island between you two. “I’ll show you how to make it, how does that sound? That way you can do this yourself, I’ll watch you, of course just to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

He gave you that bug-eyed stare of confusion and surprise. “I can make it?”

“Sure, why not? I think you enjoy it more than I do.” Granted he probably hadn’t had it in over 70 years,  but still. He was enthusiastic about it.

“Okay…” He rumbled, slowly inching his larger frame over to the stove. He almost saw it as a taboo area, only you could work the knobs and the hot burners. But you had slowly coaxed him into working it under your supervision and guidance.

“So you take the ghee butter.” You pointed to the small jar of the butter before handing him a spoon. “Take a few scoops of it with the back of the spoon and lather it on the bottom of the pan, but be careful not to touch the pan.”

He obeyed without word, being extra attentive of where his hand was to the pan. The butter began to melt as he rubbed the back of the spoon onto the pan, adding three scoops of butter.

He looked to you with anticipation, the spoon and jar in his hands still.

“Good, good, now put the spoon in the sink and put the jar back there.”

He did so as you pulled the measuring cup out and poured around 1 cup of kernels into the Pyrex glass. You handed it to the soldier as he turned back to you and the stove.

“Now pour this in the pan and put the lid over it, we don’t want popcorn everywhere.” You teased. That was one of your odd bucket list items; Make popcorn without a lid.

He made sure the lid was on as he peered through the glass, waiting for the first pop. You hauled yourself onto the counter and waited, watching. You smiled when you remembered the first time he saw the little white puff appear in the pan. His eyes had gotten as big as baseballs. He didn’t leave your side when you made it afterwards, enthralled by the steady appearance of white puffs in the pot as the kernels vanished. Your enjoyed the transparent lid as well, it was a shared stimulation.

Pop! He jumped when the first kernel popped into existence, leaping toward the lid and falling back down, followed by another which soon became a snowstorm of popcorn.

“Start shaking it so they won’t burn.” You instructed, grasping the handles of the pot and giving it a shake back and forth to show him. He grabbed the handles and shook it a few times before stopping to let you lift the lid just enough to let the steam out.

In a few moments, the pot was full with fluffy goodness.

“Take it off the burner,” You said while grabbing the bowls from the cabinet and setting them next to each other on the island. “And pour it in these.”

He looked at you before taking the lid off and carefully pouring the puffs into the bowls.

“Good job!” You smiled, taking the still hot pot and putting it back on an empty burner. “Now pick one of the bowls and how ‘bout finding us a movie?”

He stared at you again, surprised. “Mine?”

“Well, yeah, you made it, you should be entitled to have your own bowl then.” You shrugged, sliding the bowl on the left toward him. “You want salt?”

“Please.” He rumbled, his hands cupping the bowl.

You sprinkled a few shakes of salt onto the bowl and some on your own. “If you want more salt, I’m putting it right here, okay?” You planted the glass shaker on the island before grabbing your bowl, turning off the kitchen light and heading into the living room.

He followed you closely, already picking a few pieces out of his bowl.

“You wanna pick the movie?” You asked before plopping onto the couch and grabbing the large blanket you always had. He nodded and crouched beside the DVD rack that you kept the extensive collection of older movies on, mostly gifts from your parents. You were what you might call a classic’s snob.

“This.” He handed you a case.

“Ooh, I like your taste.” You commented, taking the movie and turning on the DVD player. “I like 101 Dalmatians.”

He didn’t reply but dug into his popcorn, relishing the buttery flavor.

You kept the movie at a low volume just to keep the louder or more sudden noises from startling him. He’d watched this movie before, but you knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of loud noises. You weren’t either, matter of fact. You always had a pair of noise-canceling headphones around.

“Want the blanket?” You offered when you felt his nudge his metal shoulder next to you. You knew his arm could get cold and it would agitate him when it did, so you were a source of warm and comfort for these moments.

He nodded, chewing slowly.

You smiled softly and wrapped the queen sized blanket around his legs and pulled it closer to you both. You loved, loved, loved it when he practically demanded attention. You couldn’t rush him, but when the day came when he willingly snuggled next to you, it was as if your heart shattered when he finally showed his trust.

He still pressed himself into a corner every so often, his eyes empty as he relived something terrible from his past. You thought it best not to pry about these episodes, but you offered many sources of comfort for him in any way you could.

You were careful. It wasn’t as if you didn’t trust him, but he was still dangerous in his own sense. True, you had the sedatives to put him under if such an incident occurred, but you felt sick to your stomach when you thought about what might happen to him if you actually needed to use them.

He’d actually kind of grown on you. It wasn’t as if you resented him when the Avengers first offered you the task of harboring the literal world’s finest assassin. Brainwashed, not to mention. Why had they asked you when Steve was the better option?? One. He seemed to like you when he saw you. Two. Steve was always busy with missions and figuring the cases out. Three. You had experience with victims of sex-trafficking along with two foster teenagers who claimed you were quite the wonder.

Even then, over the last year, he’d grown attached to you. You were the only one he sought out after an episode. He searched specifically for you when you brought him to the compound for Steve’s birthday, he had stuck by your side the entire time after he found you. He reminded you very much of the rescue dogs your friend from college fostered. They had likes, dislikes, triggers and such, but they were incredibly affectionate and loyal once you gained their trust and showed real kindness and simply human love. It was only natural he would crave your presence.

You blinked awake and realized the movie was almost over, the sound of gentle snoring beneath you. When you looked down, you couldn’t help smiling at Bucky who was sound asleep, his arm wrapped up in his own blanket along with the larger one over you as he pressed himself close to you, seeking your warmth even in his sleep. The words ‘Teddy Bear’ came to mind when you saw him.  The two empty bowls were set on the coffee table, apparently set there by the sleeping soldier on your lap. You muffled a quiet squeal of excitement and carefully resettled yourself so you and Bucky would be more comfortable. The scent of the minty shampoo you let him use wafted between the buttery scent of the popcorn creating a rather soothing mixture as you feel back into the lull of sleep

Thank you for reading! Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag list: @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent ~ @oh-to-be-a-murderer ~ @thebestmerc-1 ~ @itzzkaylaaa ~ @twoarrsandonesea

[revelboo]

REVEL BOO! PLEASE POST ANOTHER CHAPTER IF AOK WITH BLURR! AND MY LIFE IS YOOOOUUUURS!!!

Well, alright then

Fighting my deplorable impulse control because I really want to assemble these, but also realize they’re limited editions and some of the singles are already selling for around $40 but…. Shiny Starscream…

A-Ok Pt 3

TFA Blurr x Reader

• Helmet bouncing and rolling away on the concrete, he stares at the limp form in his servos. Did you just die? Had known humans were delicate, but this i I s ridiculous. Shifting you to one hand and catching your face to tip it up, he can feel a pulse in your throat. Seem to be breathing, too. Good. Just offline and helpless. “Scrap.” Would you be okay if he just leaves you here? Somehow he doubts it. Shoulders slumping, he turns in a fidgety circle, not sure if he’s looking for another human to pawn you off on, but giving up, he hefts you over a shoulder and takes off.

• Motions blurring as he streaks through alleys, hits a wall and propels himself up, that giddy sense of freedom spreads through him. Momentarily going airborne, a hand on you to keep you in place when his peds hit the roof of the brick building and he’s moving again. Carrying you to the abandoned warehouse he’d claimed as his own base of operations. Hating that he’s going to now blow that secret, too. Slipping in through the hole in the roof of the old structure, he grabs you and sets you on the crude berth he’d cobbled together from scavenged metal. The space fine for him, he can rest anywhere, but looking at your limp form, he’s realizing how inadequate the building is as a shelter. The floor strewn with litter and leaves that had blown in from the broken windows fronting the building before he’d blocked them for privacy. Needless to say the roof leaks and there’s no heat. Fine for him, but for you? No. It’s not like you’re staying. You’re gone as soon as you’re awake. No longer his problem.

• Cold, you curl into yourself and a faint muttering draws your head up. That’s right. Zippy. The wreck. Muzzily watching the blue bot pacing around the unfamiliar building you’re in, you shudder as his movements edge into an uncanny speed. Blurring almost nauseatingly. “Chill, Zippy. You’re making my headache worse.” Mouth dry, you slowly sit up and he stops pacing. But doesn’t stop moving, big hands shifting and servos flexing like he’s holding a conversation with himself in his head. Like he can’t be still. “Where are we?”

• “I thought maybe you’d died,” he mutters, ped sliding slightly as he shifts his weight and drifts to where you’re sitting up on his berth, head in your hands. “You just broke.” Remembering the unsettling way you’d just gone boneless and collapsed. You arch your brows at him as he shudders, grimacing. Hands lifting and falling away shy of touching you. Making himself back away as you watch him. Because handling you? Big mistake. Do humans imprint? What if he can’t get rid of you now? If he’s not alone?

• “Sorry to disappoint you, but humans are pretty hard to kill.” You say, knowing that compared to him, that’s a lie. You’re not metal, only soft flesh. Ridiculously easy to kill, but he sounds almost upset about you ‘breaking’ on him. Best you can figure, the adrenaline from the wreck crashed. Everything a bit fuzzy. Leaning out to realize you’re higher up than you want to try and jump down from, you look at him expectantly. “A little help, Zippy?” When he just stares at you, you sigh and hold out your arms like a toddler asking to be picked up. “If I jump, I might actually break.”

Previous

[4ngelsstar]

Yandere Jinx Tarot Cards

Almost finished with my other writing so… why don’t you have this in the meantime as a sort of special meal?

Warnings: Swearing, Yandere themes, possibly other warnings but I’m not sure?

The Fool - How deluded is this yandere when it comes to their darling? Are they self aware on any level?

Jinx is VERY self aware of what she’s doing. She’s crazy, not stupid. She knows that every action that she does while she allows herself to become more and more obsessed over you is incredibly disgusting, but she cannot stop herself from doing them. Even with how much you beg and plead for her to let you go, she won’t.

You’re the only thing she has left. Why would you want to leave??

You’re hers now. And hers alone. Not Piltover’s, not Zaun’s, not anything or anyone else’s. Just HERS.

The Emperor - How much of their darling's life does this yandere dictate/want to dictate?

Definitely almost wants to control all of it. But she slowly gathers her control from the ground up, at first she’ll let you be free, then start isolating you the more trusting you become of her. Then, she’ll fully have you all to herself. She WILL hurt you, emotionally or mentally or even physically. SHE CAN AND WILL. If it means to keep you in her hands, she’ll do it.

I bet you tried to talk to her that this was wrong, that you should be free and be able to talk with your other friends. She almost snaps. She brought a knife to your throat and threatened that if you ever said anything like that again she’d hurt you, that she’s all you need.

Next thing you know after that happened within a small time frame, you see Jinx panicking over her own actions. Crying pathetically at your feet as she clings to you, begging for your forgiveness- that she’d never hurt you, that it was all an accident. She begins to blame herself, that she just scared that you thought she wasn’t enough for her. And shortly enough, you find yourself comforting her. Even though you KNOW shes your captor

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling?

Very! Very touch starved girl, so she’ll nearly always have her hands on you, like she’ll have you on her lap as she works on a new contraption or she’ll cuddle you (much to your protests or dismay) on the couch.

She makes you random things all of the time, things you’ll never use — and yet you still keep them around.

Even if she IS your captor, you enjoy these small gifts. They bring your humanity back, and remind you that perhaps there is a chance to escape from this woman’s grasp.

The Hanged Man - Is controlling their darling important? Or do they want their darling to love them willingly?

Jinx doesn’t want to control you entirely. All she does crave the reassurance of your love and your affection for her. She wants you to love her willingly, though her actions often contradict that. If she feels you pulling away, she’ll resort to basically ANY needs to make sure that you stay with her.

The Tower - If this yandere saw their darling in danger, how would they respond/react?

If you were in danger, Jinx would become completely unhinged. Her reaction would be explosive—guns shooting at top speeds, bombs detonating nearly everywhere around you, and everyone who threatens you is quickly taken care of.

Your safety is her priority, but the destruction she leaves in her wake may or may not terrify you in the end as she gets you to safety so you can be taken care of.

Judgement - Would this yandere ever open up to their darling?

We quite literally ALL know Jinx suffers with opening up to others and allowing herself to be vulnerable. One moment, she could be rambling about her past traumas and experiences and then the next she’s covering it all up with a manic laugh.

She wants to open up, wants to be UNDERSTOOD. But the idea that rejection, manipulation, or judgment could prevail during that time when she’s vulnerable?

You better be very gentle with her if you genuinely want to hear that true, scared little girl who she claims fell down a well: Powder.

The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling?

Definitely makes you a bunch of complex machines and bombs to remind you that you’re in this with her now, and while yes- they’re overly threatening at times.. they show how devoted she is to you.

Because you think of how much time she spent working on this instead of her other inventions, and you suddenly feel so.. bad about it. Like you’re indebted to her now because of the “kindness” she’s given to you even with how bad your attitude is..

You cannot help it.

The Hierophant - Could this darling's yandere fool them easily? Or be manipulated by them?

Definitely, especially if you’re naïve or trusting within her. Jinx is incredibly good at playing the victim and showering people with affection just to simply lower their guard down so they will finally be vulnerable enough for her to manipulate you or even guilt trip you.

The fun fact that people don’t know is that she’s equally susceptible to that manipulation if you know how to appeal to her insecurities or simply know your way to appease her fears of abandonment and such.

The Hermit - Is this yandere more relaxed, or capable of being more relaxed?

Jinx is not naturally relaxed by any means—her energy is always chaotic and spontaneous if you couldn’t already tell by how she’s nearly always blowing something up, thinking of blowing something up, or something similar or relating to destruction.

However, in moments of quiet when she feels safe and reassured of your love (whether it’s an act from you or you truly mean it), she can soften and become more docile, revealing her more vulnerable, childlike side.

Those moments are fleeting, though.

Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere "kill" undesirable traits of their darling?

Jinx would never intentionally kill you as the thought of losing you forever would drive her to the brink of madness. However, her chaotic nature makes those accidents a real good possibility, especially in moments of explosive rage and such.

If she ever harmed you unintentionally, she’d spiral into self-loathing, becoming even more possessive to “make up for it.” (And everything gets worse for you.. if you don’t like the attention).

But for “killing” undesirable traits, Jinx wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate, intimidate, or gaslight you into changing parts of yourself she doesn’t like. Whether it’s cutting ties with people she deems a threat or altering behaviors that don’t align with her delusional idea of love, she’d do whatever it takes to mold you into her perfect partner. They’re all justified by her from subtle guilt-tripping to outright force, all justified in her mind as “helping” you.

The Star - How would this yandere deal with their darling's loved ones?

In all honesty, your loved ones would “pose a threat” to Jinx’s incredibly delusional world. She’d view them as “obstacles” to your connection and might try to remove them through intimidation, sabotage, or outright violence. Strong possibility she might even kill them.

If your family’s important to you, she’ll try to “prove” she’s all you need. Even if you try to say that she matters as equally as they do.

She’s the ONLY ONE who actually cares about you, who actually wants you in this world. Your family fucking hates you!!

The World - Would this yandere ever give up on their darling?

Jinx wouldn’t ever give up on you unless she convinced herself you betrayed her through one of her horrible and worst moments, or something else similar to that. Even then, she’d likely spiral into self-destructive behavior before moving on.

Her attachment to you is obsessive, and she views you as her anchor in this shitty world.

She truly would rather kill herself than give up on someone as perfect (in her eyes) as you. Especially with someone who’s treated her so well before..

The High Priestess - What expectations does this yandere have for their darling?

Jinx expects you to see past the manic, chaotic persona she projects and love her for the damaged, frightened person she is underneath because of what she was forced to do as a child.

See; she craves unconditional loyalty, and needs to make sure that you genuinely love her for everything she is and isn’t. This demand for this unwavering devotion isn’t rooted in arrogance of course, but out of pure fear; she’s terrified of being abandoned again.

If you express doubt or try to distance yourself from her— even if it’s the tiniest bit, she WILL interpret it as rejection and do everything in her power to pull you back, whether through manipulation, guilt, or outright threats. She wants your emotional dependence as proof that she’s not alone anymore and has you.

The Lovers - How would this yandere deal with their darling being in a relationship with someone else?

If you were in a relationship with someone else before or after Jinx has already taken you (with or without force), her reaction would be nothing short of ruinous. She’d feel as if she was being betrayed once again (if she didn’t force you into a relationship.. guya) just like Vi did, just like Silco did! She’s already convinced that she was your one true love and that your relationship with someone else? That invalidates her worth.

Her jealousy would manifest violently—your partner wouldn’t stand a chance. After eliminating the “threat,” she’d turn to you shortly after, quickly demanding you show your loyalty to her.

This could mean forcing you to reaffirm your love through physical affection, verbal declarations, or even more permanent commitments like staying by her side constantly. Overall, this just makes her more paranoid and possessive over you.

Wheel of Fortune - Would this yandere's behavior stay the same over time? If not, why do they remain the same?

Everyone knows that Jinx’s behavior is unpredictable and cyclical, due to how unstable she is. She can swing from moments of genuine tenderness as she’s showering you with affection, gifts, and babbling to you happily about her inventions.

These can eventually turn into episodes of intense paranoia and violent outbursts. Her attachment to you is the one constant in her life, but the way she expresses shifts with her mood and mental state at that moment.

A kind word from you might bring her to tears of joy, while other times it could send her spiraling into destructive behavior.

Temperance - What made this person yandere for their darling?

Jinx’s yandere tendencies began because you gave something she desperately needed all throughout her life: stability and understanding.

You treated her as a person, not a monster or a burden of any sorts, and that kindness was intoxicating to her. Over time, her affection twisted into this current obsession over you, fueled entirely by the worries of loosing one of the only things that could make her whole.

She doesn’t just want you; she feels she needs you to survive. She’ll do whatever it takes to ensure you never leave her, no matter how much it costs her, or hell - even you!

The Moon - Is this yandere sensitive to what their darling says or does? If not, why don't they care?

She’s INCREDIBLY sensitive to your words and actions due to her paranoia. She constantly searches for hidden meanings in your tone or expressions, almost entirely convinced you’re harboring secrets or doubts about her.

An offhand comment or harmless joke might spiral into a full-blown argument as she misinterprets your intentions. Her insecurities make her desperate to “fix” any perceived problem, often leading to more.. controlling behavior on her end.

In Jinx’s mind, she’s just trying to make things right, but to you, it’ll probably feel suffocating and irrational of her.

The Empress - Would this yandere want to have children with their darling in the future?

Jinx might entertain the idea of having children with you, seeing it as a way to finally make your bond permanent forever and ever. She’d definitely fantasize about a happy, chaotic family where you’re tied to her in every way.

However, her nature would likely clash with the truth of parenting. She’d fear that your attention would shift away from her, leaving her feeling neglected. Though, if you were around when Isha was..

She’d enjoy your little family and its dynamic! But ultimately, the idea of children would probably remain a fleeting dream rather than something she actively pursue with you.

The Chariot - What freedoms would this yandere allow, and take away?

She would grant you small freedoms, like pursuing hobbies or spending time alone (though the period of time is rather short as she is very clingy), but these can only happen if she feels completely secure in your loyalty.

If Jinx starts to suspect you’re slipping away or prioritizing someone else over her, she’ll clamp down hard, taking away those freedoms to keep you close.

This includes monitoring all your activities, isolating you from others, or outright forbidding certain behaviors. And yet, to her.. it’s not about controlling you! it’s about protecting what’s hers.

Justice - Does this yandere ever feel conflicted about what they're doing?

This woman rarely feels true guilt about her actions, as she justifies everything she does in the name of her love to you.

To her, keeping you safe and by her side excuses any violence or manipulation she causes. However, if she sees you genuinely hurt or afraid because of her, she’ll most likely experience moments of.. remorse. Authentic remorse.

These moments don’t last long, though, as Jinx’s insecurity quickly drives her to rationalize her behavior again, doubling down on her obsessive tendencies.

The Devil - What taboo things would this yandere do to their darling?

Jinx would cross ANY boundary to ensure you remain hers and hers alone. This will include stalking you to know your every move, isolating you from loved ones she deems threats to you or her, or even physically restraining you if she feels it’s necessary with things such as chains or ropes.

Her actions can and will extend into psychological manipulation, such as convincing you that no one else cares about you or that the outside world is dangerous so that you stay with her within her hideout.

She rationalizes all these extreme measures as acts of love, not cruelty!

The Sun - When would this yandere feel content with their situation?

She would feel content if she believed you loved her completely, willingly, and without ANY hesitation. She dreams of a life where you’re just as obsessed with her as she is with you, free from doubt or fear.

However, her paranoia and insecurities would likely prevent her from ever truly feeling secure in your love. Even in moments of happiness, she’d be searching for cracks, constantly worried that you might betray her. (Even if she will drag you back if you ever leave).

Her contentment is fleeting, as her instability keeps her from fully embracing the love she craves.

In short, Jinx is rather delusional when she’s become yandere for you.

These took WAYYYYY too long… But I hope you all enjoy!

[vitaminseetarot]

Back-to-Back PAC Part 2: What is Beginning For You? 🥚🌴🌊

Hey y'all it's time for round 2 of my back-to-back reading! I have to admit I was a little upset that the widespread glitch in tumblr's tags last night messed the mini event up a bit; I was disappointed that my reading wasn't visible in the search until earlier this evening. But it's not gonna stop me from submitting the 2nd half anyway! So if you haven't seen part 1 yet I highly encourage you to check it out as it's my last reading of 2024.

(Yes, I've decided to go with spring colors for these piles!)

Pick any one of the three images above to find out what's beginning for you:

Pile 1: Morganite Nest Pile 2: Aventurine Palm Pile 3: Larimar Sea

Pile 1: Morganite Nest

Knight of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, Page of Swords, 7 of Swords; Non-Attachment, Co-Create, DNA - Karma, Acceptance: all is as it should be

How's it going, pile 1? Your next chapter is going to be a slow and steady one and I get that, in some respects, this will be like a breath of fresh air. In other times, it may test your patience. But there's a sense of serenity that's emerging from you as a result of past experience. You're realizing that some things manifest more brilliantly when they're given their time to form and flourish. I think of all knights, the Knight of Pentacles respects the necessity of sitting back and letting actions speak for themselves before pushing towards the next act. So I see an equal play here of you taking action on something and then detaching from the outcome until you're able to make your next move. This doesn't always mean things have to move slowly, in fact when done in confidence this could become a regular ritual enough to build momentum.

It's like playing a turn based game for the first time; we see somebody play the same game quickly and wonder how it all began. It all began with learning the ropes, the basic moves one by one, until it became ingrained into gamemaster's body as a habit. This beginning is all about embracing the angels of habit forming while making peace with the devils of difficult patterns that must be reconfigured. Habits, either way you spin them, are powerful. In this next phase of life, you're able to balance the two minds, the one focused on abstract goals and the one focused on earthly desires. I'm getting this understanding that both parts need to be heard to be in harmony with each other.

Finally, you're learning a lot in this new beginning as the Page of Swords, but the biggest lesson this year will be in recognizing that you can bring your greatest goals to fruition as the King of Pentacles. He represents your "how" in this reading, meaning that you already possess the strength to build yourself up and it's up to you to use it in a balanced way. This reading, for the most part, seems to be about work-life or school-life balance, though there is also a message here for ambitious creators too. I see you being able to complete many things this year coupled with the sense that you're working along with the universe rather than against it. You're able to discern your capacities from what the world can bring you, what's in your hands versus what's out. And that knowledge is strong, pile 1! You'll have the stamina and the patience to see things through while staying grounded. Reach for the stars and, after you touch them, be sure the clouds catch you and bring you back to the earth once again.

Pile 2: Aventurine Palm

XX Judgement, 9 of Swords, The Prism, Page of Cups; Confidence, Neverending Story, Love - Compassion, Nurture: grow a great life

Hey, pile 2. I wanted to mention that even before I started your reading, a "self-love" card fell out of one of my oracle card decks as I was clearing my desk to prepare your reading. I didn't think much of it until I drew your cards and then knew what it was all about! Pile 2, your next beginning is going to involve so much more personal care for your own well being and happiness. I'm feeling with the Judgement card like this is gonna come almost as a revelation to you. You're going to be given a message that will rock you to your core in regards to old beliefs. This may come as a story someone tells you, or through a work of fiction. It could be something you witness secondhand that causes you to rethink some ideas.

Your beginning is going to come as a wake up call to look after yourself more. Not just in regards to self-care, but in terms of how you perceive yourself as well. How you believe in yourself, and how much trust you're able to put into your own self-belief. The 9 of Swords makes total sense with this as this person's depicted to be falling. Your old self-limiting beliefs that kept you in a loop of confusion and worry are falling away in this next chapter. Being there for yourself is just going to make "sense", I don't know how else to put it. It's like how I'm required to inspect my car every year, but I'm not required to have a yearly physical for my body. It makes sense to look after the car, so much so that it's legally obliged, but I have to be the one to decide if I am worth the same "inspection" for my own health (assuming it's all affordable ahem). The car is being taken care of so it can work right on the road, but can I function? Here I go, comparing myself to a machine, while saying that I'm "fine".

Strong, justifiable anger I'm channeling here. This is the argument I hear in my head right now. "Why do we treat objects better than people?" This is what's changing for you, dear pile 2. It's like caring for yourself won't be seen as just necessary for simply "functioning", but as an act of empowerment for your own life separate of society's. You're right, people should be treated better than material things. Your outrage for others' sake is a reflection of your needs. This blank card with the gem is called Prism, and simply represents everything, all that is. And a loving open palm rests beneath it. This is you seeing your own inner light and worthiness and recognizing gentleness as a great priority. The next chapter in your life calls for radical compassion that spills outward and it starts from you filling your own cup so much that it overflows.

Pile 3: Larimar Sea

7 of Wands, 6 of Cups, X Wheel of Fortune, Queen of Swords (Rx); Festivity, Orphaned, Dragonfly - Emergence, Timing: wait for the right moment

Hello, pile 3. I see a bold new beginning for you filled with vitality. You'll be taking charge life by the horns to go where you've been deeply demanding. No room for auto-pilot based decisions anymore; you will be at the helm of your ship to steer it towards your desire. There is an almost aggressive pollyanna vibe to this reading, insistent on joy. I think you've been striving for this kind of joy for a while, but letting things be as they always were doesn't tend to bring novel results. You're taking more of an active stance on your dreams and that's admirable, pile 3.

I'm kind of getting Rapunzel from Tangled here in how she struggled both inside and out to break free and seek what she knew would fulfill her. Others called her immature but still became inspired to do great things because of that naive hope she held. You are filling your plate with what you want and casting out the naysayers who try to drag you down. You're saying no to those who yell "stop having fun around here!". It is a huge and liberating but also scary feeling to own up to what you want. Like with Rapunzel, there's a mixture of cheering and crying to be had. Your childhood stories are reaching out to you; they want you to reintegrate their lessons for you to take with you moving forward. It's easy to discount them as cheesy, but oftentimes it's those old messages that impact us the deepest. Honoring your inner child is helping you restore your boundaries and reclaim the tower that once held you back as your own.

Your next beginning involves a beautiful glow up due to the immense amount of respect you give to yourself, so much so that you'll be unable to put up with less. Things are turning to your favor as you adapt to life's conditions without losing your emotional core. Some of you will discover a more competitive side to your nature, which may come as a surprise. Perhaps this side was suppressed in childhood but is renewing itself to be understood again. This new beginning will be more able to support you, should you choose to take a bold path to get into something competitive, like playing sports or signing up for an online poetry contest. For others, this is more about pursuing the things you didn't think you had the audacity to do. As long as you take things in stride and don't overthink it, embracing this fierceness will help you burst out of the cocoon like a newborn dragonfly when the time is right. No longer hiding beneath the rocks, the wheels are turning and allowing you to fly forth from the waters.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2025, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[onebadassunicorn]

All I Want Is You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pure fluff!

word count: 3.2k

Taglist: @firefly-forest @salvatoresister1 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @batboyslutt @tiredsleepyhead

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

Read previous chapters here:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

***************************

Chapter 4

Feyre POV

The following night, the River House buzzed with anticipation as the Inner Circle prepared for a dinner unlike any other. Tonight, for the first time, they would meet Y/n and Azriella—the family Azriel had kept to himself for weeks.

Feyre flitted about the kitchen, placing the finishing touches on a feast that even Rhysand had been forbidden from sampling early. Cassian lounged by the hearth, though his restless wings betrayed his excitement, while Mor hovered near the door, practically vibrating with curiosity. Amren, of course, sat calmly in her usual chair, though her sharp silver eyes occasionally flicked toward the door.

“Do you think Azriel’s nervous?” Feyre asked, setting a tray of desserts on the table.

Cassian snorted. “If he’s not, he should be. Mor’s been preparing questions for weeks.”

Mor rolled her eyes, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. “I just want to make sure she’s good for him. We’ve all seen how much he’s suffered. If she hurts him—”

“She won’t,” Rhysand interrupted gently, his voice steady as he leaned against the mantle. “Azriel wouldn’t let anyone into his life if he didn’t trust them. And if he loves her…” He trailed off, his violet eyes softening. “Then she’s already passed every test.”

A knock on the door cut through the conversation, silencing the room.

“They’re here,” Feyre whispered, smoothing her dress as Rhysand moved to answer the door.

When the door opened, Azriel stood there, his wings neatly folded behind him and his face calm, though his hazel eyes carried a flicker of nervousness. Beside him was Y/n, her raven-black hair glinting in the light of the setting sun, her green eyes bright but wary. And in front of them, clutching Azriel’s hand, was Azriella.

The little girl looked around the grand house with wide, curious eyes, her small Illyrian wings fluttering slightly as she clutched a toy dragon in her free hand.

“Come in,” Rhysand said warmly, stepping aside to let them enter.

As they walked into the sitting room, all eyes turned to the newcomers. Y/n’s cheeks flushed under the scrutiny, but she held her head high, her grip tightening slightly on Azriel’s arm. Azriella, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the glittering Solstice decorations Feyre had yet to take down.

“This is my mate, Y/n,” Azriel said, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “And this”—he glanced down at the little girl beside him, his expression softening - “my daughter Azriella.”

“Hi,” Azriella said brightly, waving her toy dragon in greeting. “I like your tree!”

The room burst into laughter, the tension dissolving instantly.

Feyre was the first to step forward, her smile warm as she crouched to Azriella’s level. “Thank you,” she said. “Do you like Solstice trees?”

Azriella nodded enthusiastically. “We had one! Daddy helped me put the star on top. He flew me all the way up!”

Cassian let out a bark of laughter, clapping Azriel on the shoulder. “Good to know those wings are finally being put to good use.”

Y/n laughed softly, her nervousness easing as she took in the smiles and warmth surrounding her. “It’s nice to finally meet all of you,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Azriel’s told me so much about you.”

“He hasn’t told us nearly enough about you,” Mor said, stepping forward with a grin. She glanced at Azriel, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been holding out on us, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel gave her a wry look but said nothing, his hand resting protectively on Y/n’s back.

“You’re welcome here,” Rhysand said, his voice sincere as he addressed Y/n. “Both of you. You’re family now.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, and she nodded, her gratitude evident even if she didn’t say the words aloud.

******

Azriel POV

As everyone gathered around the table, Ella Bear quickly became the center of attention. She chattered happily with her Uncle Cassian, who was utterly charmed by her, and even managed to coax a smile from Nesta as she proudly showed off her dragon. Y/n, meanwhile, found herself enveloped in Feyre and Mor’s easy camaraderie, their questions curious but kind.

Azriel sat at the table, taking everything in, his hazel eyes reflecting the contentment in his heart. Watching Y/n laugh with Feyre and Mor, seeing Ella Bear curled up in Cassian’s lap as he told her a dramatic tale of Illyrian battles, he realized something profound: he wasn’t just introducing his family to his friends.

They were all his family now.

Together.

And for the first time in years, Azriel felt completely at peace.

*******

Y/n POV

As the dinner wound down and Azriella drifted off to sleep in Cassian’s lap, the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the room cozy and warm, but you could feel the weight of unspoken questions from Feyre and Mor.

Feyre leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle. “If it’s alright, Y/n, I wanted to ask—where have you been all these years?”

Mor nodded, her golden eyes warm but curious. “Azriel’s been… carrying the weight of your absence for a long time. We don’t mean to pry, but we’d love to understand.”

You hesitated, your hands twisting in your lap as you glanced at Azriel. He sat across from you nearby, speaking quietly with Rhysand, but his attention flicked to you, his hazel eyes steady and reassuring. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“It’s not an easy story to tell,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But you all deserve to know.”

Feyre reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Take your time. We’re here to listen.”

You nodded, your green eyes glistening as she began. “When I found out I was pregnant with Azriella, I wanted to come back to Velaris. I wanted to find Azriel and tell him everything. But my father… he wouldn’t let me.”

Mor’s brows furrowed, and Feyre’s expression turned pained. “What do you mean?” Mor asked softly.

Your hands tightened in your lap, your voice dropping. “My father was a powerful man in Montesere, but he was also controlling—cruel, even. He valued our family’s reputation and business above everything else, and when I told him I wanted to leave to find Azriel, he forbade it.”

Feyre’s hand tightened on your arm, her blue-gray eyes filled with quiet outrage. “He kept you there?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “He made it impossible for me to leave. He buried me in work, overwhelmed me with responsibilities so I wouldn’t have time to even think about leaving the estate. And when I tried to push back…” You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. “He threatened me. He said if I ever tried to leave, he would take Azriella from me. That he would make sure I never saw her again.”

Mor let out a sharp breath, her eyes blazing. “That bastard.”

You gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Yes, he was. For years, I felt trapped, like I had no choice but to stay and do what he wanted. I was terrified of losing Azriella, and I didn’t know how to fight back.”

“And what changed?” Feyre asked gently, her voice soft with compassion.

Your expression shifted, a mixture of sadness and relief crossing your face. “My father passed away a few months ago. When my brother, Ryolin, took over the family business, he released me from all of my obligations. He told me it was time to find my happiness, to live my life.”

Your voice trembled as you continued. “The first thing I did was come here. I didn’t know if Azriel would still want me, or if he’d moved on. But I had to try. I had to give Azriella the chance to know her father, and I had to know if there was still a place for us in his life.”

Feyre’s eyes shimmered with tears, her hand tightening on your arm. “You’ve been through so much,” she said softly. “But you’re here now. You’re safe. And you’re with Azriel. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled faintly, your gaze flicking to Azriel, who had turned fully toward you now, his hazel eyes steady and full of quiet reassurance. “Yes,” you said, your voice steadier now. “We’re finally where we’re meant to be.”

Mor leaned closer, her golden eyes softening. “I’m glad you came back,” she said sincerely. “Azriel’s been carrying so much for so long. Seeing him like this—seeing him happy—it’s like a part of him has finally come back to life.”

Your chest tightened, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I love him,” you said simply. “I always have. And now, I just want to give him the happiness he’s given me.”

As Feyre and Mor reached out to embrace you, the warmth of their acceptance wrapped around you like a shield. You knew you still had a long way to go, that rebuilding your life and your family would take time. But for the first time in years, you felt truly free—and surrounded by the kind of love you had always dreamed of.

******

Azriel’s POV

The idea had been lingering in Azriel’s mind for weeks. Y/n was his mate, his partner, and the mother of his child. She was already his in every way that mattered—but he wanted more. He wanted to give her something tangible, something that symbolized the depth of his love and their commitment.

And so, with his usual precision and care, he made his plans.

One crisp spring evening, Azriel led Y/n through the streets of Velaris, his hand warm around hers. Ella Bear was safely tucked in at home under the watchful care of Feyre and Mor, giving them the rare opportunity for a night alone.

She looked up at him, curiosity flickering in her green eyes. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice light with amusement.

“You’ll see,” Azriel replied, his hazel eyes glinting with a rare smile. “Trust me.”

She smiled, leaning into his side as they walked. “Always.”

When they turned the corner and Rita’s came into view, she stopped, her brow furrowing slightly. The building was dark, the windows devoid of the usual glow of lights and music.

“It’s closed?” she asked, glancing up at him.

Azriel gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his expression unreadable. “Not for us.”

He pushed open the door, revealing the interior bathed in soft candlelight. The tables and chairs had been cleared to the sides, leaving the center of the room open, just as it had been that fateful night years ago. The music was soft and haunting, filling the empty space with a quiet, intimate melody.

Y/n’s breath caught as she stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the room. “Azriel…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You did this?”

He nodded, his wings shifting slightly behind him as he guided her to the center of the room. “I thought it was time to make new memories here,” he said softly. “Memories for just the two of us.”

She turned to him, her green eyes shimmering with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

Azriel smiled, his heart pounding as he led her to the exact spot where he had first cut in on her dance all those years ago. He paused, his hands gently holding hers as he looked into her eyes.

“This is where it all began,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “The moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same. And now, after everything we’ve been through, I want to make this place even more special.”

Before she could respond, Azriel dropped to one knee, his wings folding behind him as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, intricately carved box and opened it to reveal a ring—a delicate band of silver set with a single emerald that seemed to reflect her eyes.

“Baby,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “you are my mate, my love, and my home. You’ve given me more joy than I ever thought I deserved, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you. I know we accepted the bond weeks ago when you cooked a meal for me on Solstice Day, but will you do me the honor of declaring ourselves bonded mates in front of Velaris?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at him, her hand flying to her mouth. For a moment, she was too overwhelmed to speak, her heart pounding with a love so fierce it stole her breath.

“Yes,” she finally managed, her voice breaking as she nodded fervently. “Yes, Azriel, I will.”

Relief and joy flooded his face as he slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands trembling slightly. He rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “More than you’ll ever know.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace, before Azriel stepped back, his hazel eyes filled with quiet mischief.

“Now,” he said, offering her his hand, “may I have this dance?”

She laughed through her tears, her hand sliding into his as he pulled her close. Together, they swayed to the soft music, their hearts beating as one.

******

Azriel POV

The day of their mating ceremony dawned bright and clear, the sky over Velaris a perfect expanse of blue. The ceremony was set in an open courtyard surrounded by blooming flowers, the Sidra glimmering in the distance. Feyre had outdone herself with the decorations, weaving subtle magic into the petals and ribbons that adorned every surface, ensuring they shimmered softly in the sunlight.

Azriel stood at the altar, his wings tucked neatly behind him, his hazel eyes fixed on the end of the aisle. He wore a tailored black suit with silver accents, his shadows subdued but swirling faintly around his feet as though reflecting his emotions. Cassian stood beside him as his best man, clapping a hand on his shoulder now and then to ground him, though even the general of the Illyrian legions looked misty-eyed. Rhysand, resplendent in deep violet robes, stood at the altar, his expression warm and steady as he prepared to officiate.

But Azriel’s attention was entirely focused on the end of the aisle, where she would soon appear. His chest felt tight, his heart racing as he waited. This was it—the moment he had dreamed of for years.

When she appeared, the courtyard fell silent.

She was radiant. Her fitted, sleeveless gown hugged her curves perfectly, the beaded bodice catching the sunlight and shimmering like starlight. The dress flared at her knees into a dramatic mermaid fit, the fabric cascading to her feet and trailing into a cathedral-length train behind her. Her dark hair that he loved so much was down in waves, and a simple veil floated gently behind her.

She walked arm in arm with her brother, Ryolin, who stood tall and proud at her side. His expression was one of love and admiration as he guided her forward. Ella Bear walked just ahead of them, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her tiny hands, her Illyrian wings fluttering with excitement.

Azriel’s breath caught the moment he saw Y/n. She was breathtaking, a vision of beauty and grace. Tears welled in his hazel eyes, glistening as they slipped down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. She was everything—his mate, his love, his future—and in that moment, he felt his heart swell to the point of breaking.

******

Y/n POV

Your green eyes locked onto Azriel’s as you stepped closer, your own heart pounding. The sight of him standing there, tears glistening on his cheeks, his wings partially flared behind him, was almost too much. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, and the depth of his love was etched in every line of his face. Your vision blurred with your own tears as you smiled, your grip tightening slightly on your brother’s arm.

When they reached the altar, Ryolin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before passing you to Azriel. “Take care of her,” Ryolin said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.

“With my life,” Azriel replied, his voice trembling as he took your hand in his.

As you stood beside him, you felt the bond between you and Azriel thrumming with warmth, a silent promise of the life you both were about to share. Azriella moved to stand beside you, her little wings twitching as she looked up at both of you with wide, happy eyes.

Rhysand began the ceremony, his voice deep and resonant as he spoke of love, commitment, and the strength of your bond. But when it came time for Azriel to speak his vows, he turned first to Azriella.

The little girl blinked up at him, her hazel eyes bright with curiosity. Azriel knelt before her, pulling a small box from his pocket. Inside was a delicate silver ring, sized perfectly for her tiny hand. The band was simple, with a small diamond that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Ella Bear,” Azriel said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “You are my daughter, my heart, and my joy. I promise to love you, to protect you, and to always be there for you. With this ring, I vow to be the best father I can be, for the rest of my life.”

Tears streamed down your face as Azriella giggled, nodding eagerly. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, her voice clear and sweet as Azriel slipped the ring onto her finger. She threw her arms around his neck, and he held her close for a moment before standing to face you.

Taking your hands in his, Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his love evident in every word as he recited his vows. “Y/n, my mate, my love, my everything. From the moment I met you, my world changed. I promise to cherish you, to honor you, and to stand beside you, no matter what life brings. You are my heart, my home, and my future. I love you more than words could ever express, and I vow to love you for the rest of my days.”

Your voice trembled as you repeated your vows, your hands shaking slightly in his. “Azriel, you are my mate, my strength, and my joy. I promise to love you, to stand by your side, and to share all of my days with you. You are my everything, and I thank the stars every day that they brought me back to you. I love you, and I always will.”

When Rhysand pronounced them as bonded mates forever, Azriel wasted no time pulling you into a kiss, his wings flaring slightly as the crowd erupted in cheers. Azriella clapped her hands excitedly, laughing as her Uncle Cassian scooped her up and spun her around.

Chapter 5

[charlesslut16]

-dancing with you in our dream kitchen-

summary : you and carlos dance in your own kitchen...

PAIRINGS : carlos sainz x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I love you guys!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The soft hum of the evening filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of dinner cooking in the oven. You stood in the middle of your kitchen, surrounded by sleek countertops, polished cabinets, and all the little touches that made it feel like home. It wasn’t just a kitchen—it was the dream kitchen you and Carlos had envisioned together. Every detail, from the marble backsplash to the brass handles on the drawers, had been chosen with care. It was a space you both loved, where every meal shared, every conversation, felt meaningful.

Carlos was at the stove, flipping something in the pan, his focused expression softening with a smile as he glanced over at you. He looked so at home here, just as much as you did. You caught his eye, and without a word, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” he asked, turning down the heat on the stove and walking over to you, his curiosity piqued.

“You just... look so good in this kitchen,” you said, still smiling. “I can’t believe we actually did this. Our dream kitchen.”

Carlos grinned, pulling you closer with a gentle tug. “Well, we both know we’ve put in the work for it. And now we get to enjoy it. So, what are we waiting for?”

Before you could respond, Carlos placed his hands on your waist, and without hesitation, he pulled you into him. The song that had been playing softly in the background caught your attention—a sweet, slow melody that seemed to fill the air with an undeniable warmth.

“Carlos,” you began, laughing softly as his hands rested against your back. “We’re in the kitchen. I’m not sure if this is exactly the place to—”

“Who says you can’t dance in the kitchen?” Carlos interrupted, his voice low, teasing. “It’s just us here. Let’s make the most of it.”

And just like that, you found yourself in his arms, moving gently with the music. At first, it was awkward—your feet shifting a little unsurely on the smooth tile floor—but Carlos’ steady presence calmed you. He pulled you closer, and the awkwardness melted away as the two of you swayed together, your movements more natural now.

“See?” Carlos murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head as he held you. “This is perfect.”

You couldn’t help but agree. There was something magical about dancing together in this space you had both worked so hard for. The kitchen wasn’t just a room anymore—it was where memories were being made, where laughter and love bloomed in the little moments. This, right here, was your dream. No fancy ballroom, no grand venue—just the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the music, in the comfort of your shared life.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as you continued to sway, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “This feels... right.”

Carlos grinned down at you, his expression tender. “It feels perfect. Just like everything we’ve built together.”

As the song played on, you felt your heart swell with love for him. The world outside didn’t matter. Not at this moment. It was just the two of you, the kitchen, and a song that somehow captured the essence of everything you both had. Simple. Genuine. Beautiful.

Carlos gave you a little spin, and you laughed, delighted by the playful move. When he pulled you back into him, his face softened, and you could see the affection in his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever built,” Carlos said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. There were moments in life when you knew, deep in your bones, that you had everything you ever needed. This was one of those moments. In your dream kitchen, with the man you loved, everything felt complete.

“Dancing with you is my favorite part of our dream,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his chest.

Carlos chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “Then let’s keep dancing,” he murmured. “We’re just getting started.”

And so, in the heart of your kitchen, with the evening light soft around you both, you danced. No need for anything more. Just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the music and the quiet joy of sharing a dream together.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

2024 BL Wrap Up

Welcome to my 2024 bl Wrap Up!

A quick look at my stats this year, so that we can get it over with: I watched 60 BLs, most of which are from 2024. 24 of them came from Thailand, 15 from Japan, 14 from South Korea, six from Taiwan and one from China. I created 209 gifsets and had to deal with several heartbreaks.

Somehow 2024 was an intense year for BLs, at least for me. Even though I watched significantly less than in 2023 and skipped many series to save them for later, many of the series I watched touched me, both positively and negatively.

But what did the year actually look like for me? What are my thoughts today, looking back on 2024?

China, Japan and South Korea fought it out to see who could bring the saddest characters to life and write the saddest stories. On the one hand, we have China's re-entry into the BL world with Blue Canvas Of Youthful Days.

A series whose characters have suffered so much, healed together, supported each other, only to end up with a double noble idiocy and and a time skip so they see each other again in the last two minutes of the series and we get a half-hearted happy ending. I would have loved this series much more without this giving up your own happiness in hopes the other one is happy. Just talk to each other and find a solution together. Please.

Secondly, there is Our Youth from Japan.

Both characters suffer at the hands of their parents. One with domestic violence, prejudices and hatred and the other with absent parents, disinterest in his own personality, prejudices and separating parents. In both cases, they are neglected and find the support and trust in each other that they miss in the world. They feel misunderstood and learn about their own desires and needs through their affection for each other. The series is not yet finished, but it is one of the bluest series this year.

But Japan is not entering the race with just one series. Happy To The End is also a contender for a top spot at the Hurt-Mountain.

The story of two maltreated souls who somehow manage to find a little love and trust in a life full of darkness and pain. The series had left me with strong feelings and a dear friend gifted me the Mangas for Christmas. I can't wait to dive into their story again! And don't forget our super-villain of the year! This series had it all!

South Korea entered the race with Let Free The Curse Of Taekwondo.

I don't know who suffered more in the end, us as viewers who watched the suffering of both protagonists without being able to give them a warming hug and to tell them everything is going to be fine or the protagonists themselves and their attempts to hold up their own walls and tear down the other one’s. Those two have come a long way to at least talk to each other again. Such a good storytelling!

Meanwhile, Thailand thought it would be nice to start a little competition to see which of their series could be the fluffiest of them all. ThamePo is not included in this calculation, because I'm too biased when it comes to this series. They could present me green slime dancing in the rain while Po is staring at it lovingly, and I would celebrate it.

At first, I thought Every You, Every Me was going to easily win the race, but suddenly, they bring in death and the series is elevated to a weird, way too complex and under-explained meta-level where actors are trying to end their relationship because reasons?

I would have liked to have seen more of the multiverses in which our soulmates fall in love with each other again and again. The first four episodes were so good and so different than our usual bls. I couldn't stop loving it. But I guess the trophy will go to Your Sky after all in this case.

God, I'm blushing and giggling to myself with every episode. Fah and Rak are just so cute together. The series is pure fluff so far and even though I don't know what to expect from the remaining episodes, I know that the two of them will surely be happy together in the end.

The award for best performance goes by far to War Wanarat from Jack & Joker.

His diversity and ability to immerse himself in the different personas and play them believably was great cinema this year. The series might have some plot-holes or characters who could have had more screen time together, but the series was interesting and Joke was the best!

And while we're on the subject of Jack & Joker and Your Sky, let's move on to the trophy for this year's best kiss. The crown would have gone to Jack & Joker, but then Your Sky came around the corner with this great first kiss and wow. I was in a bit of a quandary until I remembered that this is my recap. So I'll just make two categories.

The best and softest first kiss this year goes to Your Sky.

The best and hungriest first kiss this year goes to Jack & Joker.

Kidnap didn't necessarily have an exciting and well thought-out plot, but Ohm's Puppy Eyes were unbeatable.

And yet ThamePo clearly won the staring contest with only three episode aired. I mean, hello? Who wouldn't fall head over heels in love with one of them when they look at you like that?

And contrary to all assumptions, neither Kidnap nor ThamePo has the biggest baby girl of the year! No, this is what Taiwan brought to the screen with The On1y One and let's not kid ourselves, Tian loved making everything possible for his Wang and taking care of him.

And who would have thought that the most romantic scene of the year came just close before the year ends? ThamePo! What have you done you beautiful, beautiful series! And how could the remembering of a phone number be the most romantic shit of the year? And yet here I am loving everything about this scene and the series. Oh the wait was so worth it!

While in most cases it was clear that the couples would get together at the end of the series and our little BL bubble would remain intact, Japan made it a little harder for us to predict a happy ending. 25 Ji, Akasaka de probably thought it was funny to play with our emotions like that. My Strawberry Film was probably lying in the corner, laughing at the fact that we believed its misdirections about being a bl. And in Hidamari ga Kikoeru, they remembered at the end that it is a bl and that the audience has been waiting for a long time to see the protagonists together in a scene again and conjured up an unspectacular happy ending with one of the most uncomfortable looking hugs in bl history.

Taiwan, on the other hand, didn't care whether their series had a happy ending or not and simply cut one of the best series of the year with strong acting and a great story in the middle without knowing whether there would be a second season.

And so The On1y One hangs somewhere in cliffhanger limbo and we viewers are desperate enough to search the internet for bad English translations of the story to at least find a little bit of closure. It's worth reading the bad translation though.

And while the world around me was already falling apart, Taiwan and South Korea were fighting over who could tear my heart into smaller pieces by the end of the series. While I was obsessed with Unknown and even bought the final episodes as early excess,

Love For Love's Sake managed to crush my heart into the finest powder. Never before have I been so heartbroken as after this series. I didn't know what to do with myself and my emotions for days. It was terrifying and yet so beautiful. One of the strongest heartbreaks I've ever felt. Clearly the best series this year for me.

Quietly and secretly, Thailand then surprised us with a pretty good adaptation of the much-loved Japanese classic Cherry Magic. And Tay and New surprised me with the fact that they can actually kiss each other without looking like they're in pain. The chemistry was on point and their love scene at the end... wow!

I also discovered a new format for myself in 2024. While I've always stayed away from watching shows on my phone because it's just too small, I came across Match Play on social media and just knew I had to watch it.

And that's how I slipped into the universe of vertical mini-series. My ADHD brain is happy about the short, entertaining nature of the episodes. And yet I was so hooked by the series that it's now my most rewatched show. And that's despite the fact that I don't really like doing that, i.e. repeating series. But I can watch it whenever, whereever.

I was able to watch with my best friend how two people fell in love with each other and are still together and happy.

The Boyfriend was an experience that I would never want to miss, not only do my friend and I now regularly watch shows together, but the show briefly gave me back my faith in love, not for me, but in general.

I finally found another show this year where I really liked OffGun.

The Trainee was a great show with good humor, great characters, honest problems, and an Off that I actually liked in his role. I don't often get that with him.

I had to learn once again that South Korea is not yet ready to introduce a queer couple in one of their big productions. The hints were there and so was the chemistry!

But unfortunately there was no happy ending for my poor heart and Sergeant Kim in Sweet Home 3. But he did make it onto my phone as a wallpaper. That's something too, isn't it?

But South Korea also surprised and sent a terrific adaptation of the novel Love In The Big City to the screen with a cast to be proud of and a story that was worthy of being filmed so well. The biggest plot twist for me came when it was revealed that No YeongSu was a toxic and utterly homophobic asshole. God, I loved the two of them together and would have loved to see No YeongSu come to terms with his own sexuality, but the show has just been too realistic for that. But their scenes together? Chef's kiss! The best lift of the year!

But not everything that tried to shine this year was gold.

On the dark side, Japan and Thailand both tried to piss me off this year by letting series that started so well and would have definitely been my favorites, had they kept it up, hit the wall in the middle or near the end. Seriously Thailand, what was that about Last Twilight? And Japan, I hear the sunspot was so good until you decided to put in a character that was so unlikable that many of us just got angry and until you decided that our protagonists just couldn't have any positive character development and just stopped communicating with each other. And that had been their strength all along!

Wandee Goodday wanted to be this cool show, with sex positivity and sex buddies, but quickly became a romantic sludge that was as predictable as every other GmmTV story. I'm not saying that's always a bad thing, just a little unnecessarily schmaltzy and sweet at times.

South Korea gave us a brief scare once when it thought it wanted to produce a series together with Thailand. I don't know, but I just can't take Mew seriously since then. Love Is Like A Cat was bad. The acting was really bad, the plot didn't know what it was supposed to do on set any more and it simply left midway through the series, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, this didn't improve the acting and so it was more a case of just not giving up. Sometimes I also wonder what's wrong with me that I keep watching those series and why I'm doing this to myself (yes, I'm looking at you Dinosaur Love).

What 2024 really had a few of, however, were stories with a very unique plot. There's Love For Love's Sake, where someone gets a second chance through a computer game. Or Century Of Love, in which a centenarian in a young body waits for the love of his life and is surprised when they are reborn as a man.

Or Caged Again. I'll wait until I can binge it myself, but the story of a penguin and a panther who fall in love as humans sounds great! Or 4 Minutes, in which time was so confusing that I lost track at one point. Or who could forget our first Omegaverse series Pit Babe?

Which was somehow a little lacking in Omegas and made people questioning everything after finding out that Pavel wouldn’t be on top. Or Playboyy, a series that I think is underrated and which style is so artistically pleasing. Yes, the story was messy af, but the manner in which this series was shot and filmed was exquisite. And Love In The Big City and The Nipple Talk, two very good, very adult series that I wish could get more attention.

All in all, 2024 was a great year with interesting stories and fascinating characters that I will certainly be returning to from time to time.

And with you, my dear friends and followers, creators and viewers. Your presence in 2024 has sweetened my year and made my feed happy! Thank you to all of you out there!

May 2025 treat you well and delight us all with great new stories!

[deluxewhump]

Wishbone

cw: pet/slave universe, otherwise nothing

His new master, a man of only twenty-nine and still somewhat of a mystery to him, turned to him with an expression of bemused curiosity.

“Did you save this for something?” he asked, holding a piece of chicken carcass in his hand.

It hadn’t occurred to Carlo that the wishbone thing was perhaps not universal until this very moment. He’d done it without thought, more concerned with putting all the dishes away correctly on the first try. But now that Max was asking, it seemed ridiculous he’d cleaned, washed, and left a piece of bird clavicle on the windowsill to dry in the spring sunshine.

“It’s the wishbone,” he said. From Max’s unchanged expression he knew this was not a helpful bit of information and that he’d have to explain himself. “You save the wishbone, dry it out, and then you can… uhm, two people can each make a wish and break it. Whoever gets the longer piece of bone gets their wish. It’s just an old superstition, it’s—”

Stupid, he was going to say, but Max had taken the dried fork of chicken bone between his thumb and forefinger as an upside-down V. “Like this?”

Carlo took the other dry end, yellow as parchment, and nodded.

“And we just… pull?”

“At the same time.”

“Count us down from three then. Pull on one.”

Carlo counted backwards and on one gave a tug. The brittle nexus of bone at the top strained and snapped, and each came away with their portion. Upon comparison, it was clear Max had gotten the longer end, either from luck or a more confident pull at the count of one. Carlo smiled graciously, which he always remembered to do upon losing anything. He’d been distracted by Max’s sudden nearness, their knuckles almost touching, his indistinct but alluring stranger-smell that he was beginning to smell on his own clothes now as he used the same detergent, the same shampoo, that he’d forgotten to even make his wish. Perhaps fortune always favored an wishmaker over an abstainer.

“Can I tell you my wish, or is it like a birthday wish type of thing?” asked his new master with a hint of a smile that narrowed his eyes.

“I—don’t know.” As many wishbones as he and the cooks Erik employed had snapped between them over the years, it had never come up. He tried to guess which answer this man might want, if there was one.

“I’ll tell you if it comes true, how’s that?” Max said, and gave him his end of the wishbone. They looked like an archaeology find in his palm, broken but with the whole they had once been plausible and obvious. He thought of his life in similar terms, pulled from the cushioning flesh and tendon he’d come to rely on, left high and dry to be suddenly and irreparably snapped into two pieces. He was immediately a little ashamed of the cliche. Erik would say ‘life as a snapped wishbone’ was only appropriate for the imagination of a middle class child of divorce. You’d win a sixth grade poetry contest with that champion of a metaphor for sure, Lo, he’d say dryly.

Intending to throw away the bones, he found himself instead watching from the kitchen window as a spring wind shook the blossoms of the apple trees in the backyard. Max told him the hard and sour crab apples they produced were technically edible, but that as a boy he’d stabbed them onto sharpened sticks and flung them as far as he could instead, imagining he was operating a trebuchet mid battle.

One of the bones was poking into his palm. Half subconsciously, he’d been tightening his grip to feel the needling bite of it and letting off when the sensation grew too sharp. It left a white indent in the skin, turning red as blood returned to the spot. He tossed the pieces in the trash beneath the kitchen sink. At the vast kitchen island behind him, Max was talking on the phone with a colleague— or a friend, it was sometimes hard to tell, but Carlo felt his gaze anyway and turned, confirming that his new master was watching him. It was a gentle gaze, though. One that asked only what are you thinking about? When Carlo met his eyes, he looked away politely.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Perfection

Pairing: Perturabo x Reader(f)

Arthur's Note: What is this? A little continuation from the Perturabo x Reader thing I did a while ago? Yes. Yes, it is. Also again, I am sorry if this is really OOC of Mr. Turbo, never thought I would be writing him, lol.

First part, technically

Warnings: General Grimdarkness, pregnancy, depression. Light NSFW at then end

Tagging @kit-williams because I know he is your boy.

+18 Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

A ship was no place for an expecting mother-to-be, and Perturabo desperately hoped to hide what this crusade asked of him from you. For you to have some illusion he was not destroying. Even if it was clear you knew, he wanted to just think of what he would be when this was over. But the other option was to risk missing such a glorious and wonderous thing; you growing fat with his child, and that he couldn't allow. He was missing much as it was, having to siege and handle so much on his own. At least this way, when we returned to his vessel you were there waiting.

And Throne your smile and gentle touches kept his soul from becoming cold like the rest of him. You kept him human, what part of him that was. However, he could sense something dark overtaking you. The light in your beautiful eyes seemed dulled. A nasty malaise was taking you.

Wanting to rectify his lack of knowledge in the area of reproduction Perturabo delved head first into all knowledge he could find. The Lord of Iron will not fail at any task, especially being a good partner to the woman giving such a gift! He knew of the hormonal changes, and what they bring, but he had no idea they would be this bad. How your mind turned against you and him!

Perturabo was sure there was some comparison to be made about creating and nurturing life and doing such for creativity, but he would not simplify the sheer wonder you were doing.

He had been away a week, and last he saw you, this cloud was growing over your head, and he wished nothing more but to return to you and vanquish such thing with the appropriate amount of affection, within reason of course. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to touch you, feel every new curve. The primarch growled and barked demanding the rites of removing his armor move quicker, he did not have time for the tech priests to be so lazy in their tasks. Sending one into a wall made his point clear enough.

As he entered his chambers, Perturabo could feel his cold and unrelenting demeanor start to melt. His footfall was not as heavy and angry. His jaw was not clenched. Even his anger about getting out of his armor faded. A thought occurred to him, his rage; outbursts, would he lash out at his grand creation? On the great design that brought it into this world? You? A sickening fear.

The Lord of Iron looked down at his hands stopping short of his bedroom door. What expectations would he push? No, he couldn't. Wouldn't. The babe would be flawed, weak and cry, and he would love it. No one but you ever made him feel seen and he would return that love to you tenfold and he would make sure his child would not have the same pathetic childhood he had. His child would have one, where he had none.

Done lingering in his thoughts, he cracked his door open, hoping to find you reading in bed or playing with one of the many puzzles he had made for you. But what he saw was your naked form before a large mirror. He wasn't one for such vanity things, but he got it for you, and he did like looking over and seeing how breath-taking you were being taken by him.

Sadly, the rising heat in his chest quelled quickly when he noticed you were crying. A mix of fear and rage took him, were you injured? Who hurt you?! He would raze his own ship to find out. Destroy all his sons for this grave mistake!

"My great treasure, why are you crying?" he asked, trying to keep his mounting fear and anger contained; hidden.

You turn with a start, how did a man so large manage to go unnoticed? More the fool you were, and further proved the malicious thoughts in your head. You were flawed, stupid, gross. Not only physically unsightly now, but what little intelligence you had, faded.

"Perturabo!" you shriek, frantically reaching for your robe to cover your body.

The primarch frowned, "Why do you cover yourself? No need for modesty, I have seen this finely crafted gift to me before." he mused trying to raise your spirits, assessing you were not injured physically at least, and did not seem ill.

When you lower lip quivered and you flinched at his words, like they wounded you, his hearts sank and knotted. The mental darkness that had been seeping into you had worsened it seemed. Curse this crusade and the damnable jobs his father sent him on. You should be planetside on Olympia with him living a life of sunshine and ease, while he worked on the nursery. He should be creating while you created the greatest thing of all.

"Please do not lie to me, Perturabo." you whimper so meekly he wasn't sure a baseline would have heard or understood.

Perturabo closed the gap between you two, gingerly taking a knee before you and taking a hand into his, "I do not lie, you know this. What have I said to make you think such? Tell me, so I can fix this."

He waits as you try to collect your breath and steady yourself to speak, "I am not pleasing anymore," you sob, your body trembling violently from your cries, "My body is bent and ugly. It is why you won't love me anymore!"

Oh. Oh Throne take him. It would seem the standards he pushed onto himself and his gene-sons had made this illness worse. Not to mention his information about expecting mothers and sex was now painfully clear to be incorrect. Here he thought he was doing what you desired, and instead, he made you feel undesirable.

With all the gentlness he could muster Perturabo guided your hands down and thus the robe exposing your body to him once more. He could feel how uneasy you felt. his own wife thinking she was not worthy of him, or his touch? This was a grave insult he had cast upon you and it hurt more than any torture or wound.

"Bent and ugly?" He repeated in a murmur, "How so?" his fingers trace your stretch marks, and his kisses your belly, "I see something so marvelous it takes my breath away. I see the woman who is offering her body to create something so beautiful and precious with me. Oh, I think there is nothing more beautiful in all creation." he mused planting more kisses on your belly, smiling as he does.

"I quite like these marks, shows how enduring and strong you are. No simple woman could carry my children! Only the right one; you," he kissed up your bump and his lips grazed over your milk-swollen breasts, "As for love making. Again I have failed, not you. I was under the impression sex would be...unpleasant for you right now and I did not wish to hurt you or the babe. Nor make you do something you would not enjoy..."

The primarch took one of your tender nipples into his mouth, and when your whimpers turned to moans that fire in his chest roared back to life and consumed his body. He dearly missed hearing that sound, been dying to have you make such music for months.

"My diamond, my great treasure, let your foolish husband fix this. I long to work your body, to meld into you." he cooed as he moved up your chest and neck.

As you moan his name his lips catch yours and you melt into his embrace. You felt foolish for doubting his love, but he would not give you time to be upset over it; already he was carrying you to bed, his eyes hungry and blown out.

"Not to be heretical, but allow this arrogant man to worship at your alter," the primarch rumbled as he hovered over you, his lips kissing over your body, leaving little fires where his lips touched, "And I will be gentle."

You didn't reply, merely whimpered his name, and rocked your hips as your lips begged for his; wanting his fire inside you. By all that was good, you had been craving this for months. Perturabo chuckled breaking a kiss, "I do not think I have been so pleased in all my years to have someone so needy for me. Do not worry, my wife, I will make up for my error."

[ifortom]

WINTER AHEAD (1/2) T.H.

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy at 21 completely changes the lives of two young people. Over time, their paths diverge, and their hearts bear the pain of separation. Yet, the life born from their love keeps them unbreakably connected, showing that some bonds transcend time and differences. Also, it’s Christmas time!

A/N: I wrote this suddenly and couldn’t stop, but it will be divided into two parts because it took a different turn than I expected. Oh, and I know Christmas is already over, but my brain only started working after the festivities ended. I brought up some topics in this text that might be sensitive and cause some discomfort, but in the next chapter, some things will be explained.

The sound of the door opening, along with soft footsteps on the carpet, woke you up on yet another winter morning. Shortly after, you could feel the new weight on the blanket covering you, preventing the cold from reaching you.

"Mummy, are you awake?" The sleepy, drowsy voice reached your ears, and small fingers gently touched your face.

Delicate fingers gently trace imaginary lines on your face, attempting to wake you up.

"Mummy, come on. Daddy will be here soon."

It’s possible to detect the faint hint of desperation beginning to emerge in the little one's voice, as he spares no tactic to wake you up.

Stretching your arms without opening your eyes, you wrap Ethan in the blanket, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

"Oh no, help!" he shouts amid his laughter.

"This is an attack from the blanket monster!" you say, deepening your voice as you join in the game Ethan invented a few years ago.

As he tries to escape from the blanket you’ve wrapped him in, you attack with tickles, making him squirm uncontrollably on the bed.

"Mummy, please!" he says, laughing.

"Mummy? There’s no Mummy here, only the blanket monster."

"But I need my mum."

"Then do you surrender?"

"Yes, yes, please!" he says, and you release him, throwing your own body onto the bed and closing your eyes. When you feel Ethan stretch out over you, you open your eyes and smile at him.

"Oh, good morning, E."

"Good morning, Mummy! I was attacked by the blanket monster."

"Really? And did you defeat him?"

"Hm, not this time."

"Ah, that's okay. I bet the blanket monster had all his meals today, that's why he was so strong this time," you say, sitting up and pulling his little body close to yours. Ethan sits on your lap, his legs wrapped around your waist and his head resting on your chest as you lean back against the headboard of the bed.

Your hand gently pats his back, soothing him even more. No matter how much he grows, his mother's lap will always be his favourite place.

You bring your face closer to the top of his head and inhale the scent of baby shampoo coming from his soft hair.

Ethan may be just a few months away from turning 6 and becoming more independent in his routine, but to you, little E will always be the baby who cried loudly the first time you held him in your arms at 21.

From the moment you discovered you were pregnant, you knew life would never be the same, but the feeling of holding a newborn in your arms just minutes after he took his first breath of air was almost like a cold shower.

Since that moment, life took a new direction. There was no longer just Y/N. Now it would be Y/N and Ethan.

And Tom.

And as always, life spins in unexpected ways, and suddenly everything changes. Some things no longer seem to be enough.

After a few minutes in the same position, Ethan starts to move, and you release him to look at him.

"Can we have hot chocolate today?" he asks.

"Wasn't that our breakfast yesterday?"

"I know, but..." He turns his face, staring at the window. "I'm going to miss it."

He doesn't specify, but you understand what he means. It's the weekend, which means Ethan will spend the next few days away from home. Your home.

"I'm sure Daddy can make hot chocolate for you if you ask him."

"He makes it, but it's not like yours," he says, pouting.

"Ah, boy, stop trying to convince me with that face, you know it just makes me want to squeeze you!" you say, excited, wrapping him in your arms and hugging him tightly, covering his cheeks with kisses. "Go put on a sweater and let's have our breakfast, okay? Daddy will be here soon."

He nods and wriggles out of your arms, jumping off the bed and running toward his room. You get up and head to the bathroom, tying your hair back and washing your face to shake off the sleepiness.

When you reach the kitchen of the small apartment, Ethan is already trying to climb onto one of the stools at the counter—a thing you've already scolded him for trying to do on his own.

"What have I told you about asking for help?" you ask, approaching him and helping him sit on the stool.

"Sorry," he mumbles, then starts watching your movements as you gather the ingredients needed.

"Are you excited?" you ask, distracted.

"I am! Daddy said we're going to see the snow and the big Christmas tree. And then we're going to see Grandpa and Grandma."

This is a tradition of Ethan's that has been kept since his first Christmas, even though he was too young to understand. The photo on the wall serves as a constant reminder. Every Christmas, you would take him to the city center, where the Christmas tree was set up and the decorations lit up everything around.

However, the tradition of strolling through the city center during the festive season began long before Ethan ever thought about being born.

At 16, Tom took you for the first time to see the Christmas lights. According to him, it was just a walk among friends, but both of you knew that day meant so much more than that. After all, it was the day of your first kiss.

"This isn't a date," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Tom, I believe what we're doing qualifies as a date," you laugh.

"No, you deserve something better and bigger. You can consider this a date, fine, but we'll do more things and I'll take you to other places. I promise. A more exclusive place, too! There are too many people here," he says, looking around, and you laugh, pulling him closer and wrapping one of your arms that wasn't holding his around his neck.

"Any place with you is exclusive."

It’s been two years since you and Tom decided to go separate ways. For some reason, the relationship began to fade. It wasn’t for lack of love or affection for each other. But the heavy workload and raising a baby while still so young interfered with the future you had envisioned at 20, before Ethan became a matter that needed to be discussed.

Ethan was never considered a burden by either of you, but everything had to be reconsidered the moment you held the positive pregnancy test in your hands. Studies had to be put on hold for a while, and Tom had to find a full-time job that paid more than the part-time one he had at the time. In addition, he still needed to make time for his college studies. You also helped as much as you could during the pregnancy, taking online design courses that provided you with some work during that time.

Your parents were shocked, as were his, but they never denied their help. They were the support both of you needed in those first years. They helped with the payment of the first rent for the small apartment you found, and Tom made sure to pay them back as soon as he was able.

But their shock was even greater when they received the news that you and Tom were separating, instead of the engagement they had hoped would happen. Your mother, who had been so in love with Tom back then, cursed him with every name possible for neglecting the family he was starting to build. She demanded that he take responsibility for the consequences of his actions.

As you cried from the pain reflected in her words, you explained that it was a mutual decision. There was nothing more to be done. Tom also made it clear that he wasn’t abandoning anyone, he was just going to move out, and you two would no longer be a couple. But Ethan would remain the main reason for your relationship after the breakup.

He kept his promise and never let anything be lacking for his son. He is present and raises Ethan as a father should. But Ethan is still a child, one who learns everything with increasing ease. This means he has already questioned why mommy and daddy don’t live together.

Despite him enjoying having two different homes.

After Ethan finishes breakfast, he asks for permission to watch a cartoon on the living room TV, and you take the opportunity to change clothes and freshen up. Then, you go to Ethan's room, select his outfit for going out, and check the bag he packed the night before. Although he has his own things at his father's house, Ethan still spends most of his time with you, so there are always more things at your place. You add a few jumpers and socks to his backpack and call him to change clothes.

"Let me smell your breath," you say after helping him put on his socks. Ethan opens his mouth, and you bring your face closer to his. "Oh my god!" you exaggerate, acting shocked. "What on earth do you have living in that mouth?" Ethan laughs. "Go brush your teeth now, young man."

He quickly gets up, runs to the bathroom, adjusts the little stool so he can reach the sink, and closes the door. Privacy. The doorbell rings, and Ethan lets out a little squeal.

"It's Daddy!" he says, opening the bathroom door, his mouth covered in toothpaste.

"Hey, finish brushing your teeth, little monster. I'll open the door." He nods and returns to the task, doing it even faster, eager to see his dad.

You take a deep breath and walk toward the door, already knowing what you'll find when you open it. Tom hasn't changed much. Despite the marks on his face being more visible, he still carries the same boyish expression. The same one you once fell hopelessly in love with.

"Hey, I know I arrived a bit too early, but everyone’s excited to see him," he says, one hand going behind his head, scratching his neck. He’s wearing a heavy coat, which shows just how cold it is outside the apartment and building.

"Hi, no problem. You know he's also dying of anticipation," you laugh awkwardly. "Come on in, he's just finishing getting ready."

Tom steps through the door, and nostalgia hits him hard. When he moved out, he thought you’d probably look for another place too—maybe somewhere a little bigger, with three bedrooms and an office so you could work from home. At least, that’s what you both had planned while you were still together. He knows he wouldn’t have been able to stay in a place filled with so many memories if it had been you moving out instead of him.

He notices some changes in the place—the photos that used to feature three people have been taken down from the walls and shelves. Most of them now only show Ethan, with just a few including you. He spots one photo, though, showing your family and his, probably from Ethan's birthday.

This isn’t the first time he’s been inside your home since the breakup. He’s picked up and dropped off Ethan numerous times, including a few occasions when Ethan had a stomach ache and wanted to sleep in your bed. But he had never taken the time to look around. The strange, awkward air between you both always prevented him from examining how you chose to change things after he left.

But he seized the opportunity when you turned your back after saying you’d quickly check something in the laundry area. Unsure of what to do, Tom sat down on the sofa, while you hid near the washing machine, taking deep breaths to prevent the tears from escaping without permission.

No matter how much time passes, Tom holds a piece of your heart that you still haven’t been able to fill. Not with anyone else, nor with yourself. When everything ended, you truly believed that having Ethan would be enough. And he is more than enough. But Tom is unforgettable. Having him so close and still sharing something so precious with him sends shivers down your spine.

Because he’s right there. Just a few steps away. And he’s no longer yours.

The sharp sound of Ethan’s excited voice pulls you back, and you take a deep breath about three times, trying to slow your heart. You swipe your thumb under your eyes, drying any trace of tears.

"E, did you change your shirt?” you ask as you return to the living room, seeing Ethan sitting on the floor, showing Tom a new puzzle he got.

“Yes, I accidentally spilled water while brushing my teeth, Mom,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no problem, my love.” You move closer, crouch down, and kiss the top of his head. “Well done for changing it all by yourself.” He smiles and shifts his attention back to his dad, who keeps his eyes fixed on him.

You let Ethan and Tom talk on their own for a while and take the opportunity to wash the breakfast dishes.

It’s clear that Ethan prefers having this moment at home, without the rush and hurry of needing to leave right away. That’s why Tom always tries to arrive a little earlier than planned, as if to ease the transition between locations for the coming days.

A few minutes later, Tom's voice catches your attention.

"Y/N, can you come here?" You dry your hands and walk into the living room.

Ethan is sitting with his back to Tom, leaning on the coffee table, playing with a plastic robot.

"What's wrong?" you ask. Tom stands up from the sofa and takes your hand, pulling you a little away from the scene.

"He doesn’t want to go."

"What do you mean, he doesn’t want to go? A few hours ago, he was all excited."

"I noticed, but it’s been almost an hour since I arrived, and when I mentioned that we needed to go, he just turned his back and said he didn’t want to go." Tom’s unfocused, disoriented look tightens your chest.

The duration of Ethan's stays with each of you was never decided. One of the things you both agreed on was that the courts wouldn’t be involved at this stage—you both believed you could communicate and decide how Ethan’s custody would work. Tom spends a lot of time at his father’s beverage company, which makes it harder for him to connect with Ethan during the week. Your job is more flexible, allowing you to work from home and have more free time. However, Tom still asks to spend time with Ethan during the week on occasion and also picks him up from school when needed.

This is a new moment, one that neither of you may know how to handle. It’s never happened before. You gently touch Tom’s arm and walk around him to approach Ethan, sitting down beside him on the floor. The moment you do, he turns his head, resting it on the table.

"Bubba?" You use his favourite nickname. "Can you look at mommy?" Your hand strokes his back, but he stays in the same position, unresponsive. "Can we talk? Daddy said you were upset." With that, Tom moves closer and sits on the sofa behind you.

"Come on, bean. We’re here with you."

Ethan’s accumulated a series of nicknames throughout his life, even during pregnancy. Bean being one of them. And the fact that Tom used it now feels like a low blow, especially to you. After all, it was the way you both referred to him throughout the entire pregnancy.

"What’s bothering you?" No response. "Do you remember what you told me earlier? Daddy’s going to take you to see the snow and the Christmas tree. Grandma and Grandpa will be there too."

"Uncle Harry, Sam, and Paddy too. They’re all waiting for you," Tom adds.

Ethan's small shoulders begin to tremble, causing even more panic in both of you, who exchange a glance before turning your attention back to the little one. Slowly, Ethan starts to sob quietly, and your instinct is to pick him up and comfort him right away. But Tom places his hand on your arm, stopping you, and you look at him in disbelief.

"E, you need to tell us what’s going on."

"I don't want to go," he finally replies.

"Ethan, I need you to tell me why," Tom says.

"I don't want to go," he repeats.

"Right, we get it. But this was our agreement, remember? We have a lot to do at home."

"Mummy," Ethan says, sitting up and turning towards you.

"Bubba, why don’t you want to go with Daddy?" you ask gently. He moves closer to you and throws himself into your lap, wrapping his legs around your body and his arms around your neck, burying his face against you. Tom runs a hand over his face, unsure of what to do as the sound of Ethan’s crying grows louder, filling the room.

You look at Tom without knowing what to say, and he seems just as uneasy about the situation. Ethan has never refused to go out with him before. Could it be that the time he spends with Ethan isn’t enough? Tom looks like he’s ready to start an argument that won’t end anytime soon, judging by the expression on his face. You stand up, holding Ethan even closer to your body.

"I need to calm him down. Can you wait or come back later?" you ask.

"What? Y/N, no. You know I always come early just to avoid situations like this. Everyone is waiting for us at home. I need to go, and I need to take him with me." With that, Ethan clings even tighter to you. Tom notices, and rejection washes over his face.

"I'm sure everyone will understand. Do as you wish, but right now, my priority is him," you say, looking at him before turning away and walking to Ethan's little room. The bed, which he had tried to make himself, is cozy enough for you to lie down with him.

Ethan has always shown preferences and behaviours different from other children his age. This concerned you and led you to seek professional help. The paediatrician conducted some tests and recommended starting psychological treatment. A few sessions have already taken place, and Mia, the child psychologist, has had several conversations with you.

Throughout the entire separation period, what concerned you the most was Ethan's reaction and how all these changes would affect him.

Even though he was only three years old when it all happened, he witnessed small arguments between you and Tom, which, despite your best efforts to avoid, could not be entirely prevented. After that, the constant moving from one place to another undoubtedly made it difficult for him to identify with a single place.

Mum’s house, Dad’s house.

Where is Ethan’s home?

This was a question raised by the psychologist, and it has never left your mind since.

Ethan’s tiny fingers wrapped around your neck found the chain you rarely take off. He traced its path to the front, touching the small letter 'E' pendant. A gift from Tom when you both decided on the baby’s name. Some things are hard to leave behind.

You waited until his breathing steadied, making sure he had fallen asleep, before getting up.

The plan was to head to the living room and call Tom to let him know that Ethan had fallen asleep and it would probably be better to come back later. But as you stepped into the hallway, you found Tom sitting on the sofa, his head resting against the back, legs spread, shoulders slumped. Tired. That’s the word that best describes Tom Holland’s body language at that moment.

He slowly lifted his head as he heard you approach. You sat down next to him, your legs touching.

"He’s asleep."

"I figured that would happen."

"The psychologist said he might have issues related to this change in routine." Tom sighed.

Of course, he knows about the psychotherapy sessions Ethan has been attending. His consent is required, after all. But he has never attended a single parental guidance session, something that fills you with frustration.

"Do you think we’re doing something wrong?" you ask.

"I don’t know. Maybe?"

"He wasn’t supposed to be caught in the middle of all this mess."

"What do you want to do now, Y/N? We can’t change the past," he replies sharply.

"Hey, what’s going on with you? Where’s all this harshness coming from?" Tom takes a deep breath and leans his head back on the sofa again, staring at the ceiling.

"My son doesn’t want to go home with me. That’s all. He was fine, and then, out of nowhere, he turned his back on me. When I ask him something, he doesn’t respond." He looks at you now. "I didn’t tell you before because it was resolved, but two weeks ago, that Wednesday when you were stuck at work and asked me to pick him up from school… When he saw me—when he realised it wasn’t you—he didn’t want to leave. It was horrible for me because people were watching, and I’ve never seen Ethan cry as much as he did that day." He lets out a bitter laugh.

"Tom…"

"The teachers tried to talk to him, but it was like I was a stranger taking him away. In the end, he agreed to come with me when I said we were going home, but he misunderstood. When he realised we were going to my house, he started crying again." He looks down at the floor. "It took ages for him to stop. That’s why, when you came to pick him up, he was asleep—because he was exhausted from crying so much." Finally, he looks at you, tears in his eyes.

"Tommy."

"I did everything wrong. I tried to give my best, always, but it’s never enough. I wasn’t the best for you, and look what happened." He looks away. "And now my son doesn’t even want to stay with me."

"Hey, hey. Look at me." You gently place a hand on his arm. "Tom, this isn’t your fault. This is all new for both of us, just as it is for him."

"I should have fought harder for us," he murmured.

Gently, you place a hand on his face, pulling him closer. The two of you adjust on the sofa, settling into a position that feels both comfortable and familiar. Tom nestled in your arms, his head resting against your chest, just the way Ethan often does. One of his arms wraps tightly around your waist, holding you close, while your hand soothingly traces along his back.

As the two of you remain wrapped up in each other for an indeterminate amount of time, you try not to dwell on Tom’s words.

How different would things be if he hadn’t given up on trying? It’s not fair to place all the blame on him, but reflecting on past events, he was the first to show that he no longer had an interest in keeping the relationship alive.

During your time apart, you heard about Tom being involved with other women. But none of them were serious enough to be introduced to Ethan—or to you.

The sound of Tom’s phone ringing on the coffee table pulls you back to reality. When Tom doesn’t move to answer it, you lean forward, trying to see who’s calling. But as you do, Tom tightens his arms around you.

"It’s your mum."

"Let it ring."

"Aren’t they expecting you?" you ask, settling back into the sofa.

"I don’t think I have good news," he mutters.

Your hands find their way to his hair, gently massaging, offering comfort in the only way you know how at that moment.

The phone rings a few more times before the call drops, only to start again 20 seconds later.

"I think you should answer," you say, and he mutters something unintelligible. "I can talk to her if you want." Tom simply lets go of you, slumping back onto the sofa. You get up, pick up his phone, and walk into the kitchen before answering.

"Hi, Nikki."

"What? Who is this? Y/N?" she says, startled.

"Yes, it’s me."

"Did something happen, dear? Where’s Tom?"

"Um, we had a situation here, but don’t worry—it’s all fine now."

"Are you sure? How’s Ethan?" she asks nervously.

"He… well, he didn’t want to leave. We tried talking to him, but it didn’t help much. He eventually fell asleep."

"Oh, poor little thing," she says, sighing. "And you, my dear? How are you?"

"I…" Hearing the concern in her voice, your eyes well up with tears. "I don’t know what to do. Tom is heartbroken. Seeing them both like this hurts me so much, Nikki."

"Oh, sweetheart, I know it does. But you need to take care of yourself too, Y/N. Stop thinking you have to handle all of this on your own. I know what it’s like to raise a child, and I know Tom tries so hard to be part of it all, but after everything that happened… he’s distant."

"It’s been two years, Nikki. Why can’t we move past this?"

"Because there’s still love," she responds quickly. "I’ll never fully understand what happened between you two. Maybe the responsibility became too much, maybe you lost yourselves along the way. Focusing solely on the child became your priority, and you forgot to nurture that love. I don’t know."

"I don’t know either." "And you were so young when Ethan came along, Y/N. You both had to rewrite an entire life you had planned together, remember?" You sigh deeply at her words. "You wanted to graduate college together, start working, save enough to take a trip, just the two of you… there were so many plans, I can’t even list them all. If it wasn’t you telling me about them, it was Tom."

More tears streamed uncontrollably down your face, and you covered your mouth to stifle any sound, not wanting to alarm Tom in the living room. "I heard so much about you two…" She sighed as well. "And the truth is, you’re still young, learning something new every day. And now, you’re also teaching someone else—someone loving, intelligent, and full of so much heart. Ethan is made of both of you, my dear."

"I’m so afraid something will happen to him, Nikki. He’s so little, and I just… I can’t hurt him like this." "Y/N, you’re doing your best. Every time I see that boy, he shows me something new about his personality that surprises me so much. You’ve done an amazing job. But you also need to take care of yourself. And I’d be so happy if you allowed my son to help you in that process."

"Thank you, Nikki. That means a lot." "I’ll always be here for you. I’ll talk to everyone here about it and wait for Tom to let me know what we’re doing today, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you again."

"You’re welcome, dear." And with that, she hung up.

Without a second thought, you walk back into the living room. Tom is still in the same position, only lifting his head when he notices you standing in front of him. His gaze lands on your tear-streaked face and red eyes.

"What happened?" he asks, standing up and gently holding your face in his hands.

"Can you carry Ethan without waking him and take him to my room?" you ask, holding his wrists. He nods and lets his hands drop from your face before moving towards Ethan.

You make your way to your bedroom while Tom goes to fetch Ethan from his room. You pull down the blinds, dimming the light filtering into the space. Tom enters, carefully carrying Ethan, and places him in the centre of the bed.

Gently, you settle on the right side, straightening up before resting your head on the pillow. Tom stands there, unsure of what to do, watching you without reaction. Finally, you extend a hand toward him. He gets the message, takes off his shoes, and lies down on the side that used to be his when you shared this bed. You don’t let go of his hand for a second. Instead, you pull it closer, guiding it to wrap around Ethan’s small body nestled between you.

"I miss you so much," Tom whispered. A small smile appeared on your face.

"We’ll talk later, okay? For now, let’s just enjoy our little Bean."

[thr0wnawayy]

Useless Heroes and Hori's spinelessness with setup.

Salutations! I remembered my password.

(Jk, I've been busy)

It's no secret that Japan's heroes in MHA are extremely incompetent, I've pointed out their general disregard towards human life and surrounding infrastructure.

However what some of you might not know is that a majority of heroes in MHA are completely and utterly useless.

And I'm not just talking from a Doylist perspective either, Heroes in MHA are more of an obstacle than the villains they fight.

Take this panel for example:

Originally I was going to crop this to only include (ugh) Birdman, however on a second read I realized how asinine every single hero (not counting All Might) is.

First off the "clean up". I shouldn't need to explain what's wrong with this. The crowd posing a security risk, the minimal security. The fucking plastic bags!?

I mean really, what the hell can Backdraft achieve here, or Kanami or Mount Lady. The list goes on.

(That also ignores how these 4 imbeciles are getting paid for what a clean up crew or police force could do easily. Not to mention this whole incident veing their fault)

Anywho... We then see Death Arms and another "hero" yelling at Midoriya, who was also a victim of the Sludge Villain and actually bought All Might time. Whereas Bakugo failed like a panicked animal and worsened the situation.

It is here we see the first plot point: Heroes are hypocritical and biased towards those with flashy quirks.

They automatically downplay Midoriya while also neglecting to get him checked on by a paramedic.

Even Bakugo doesn't benefit as these so called Heroes swarm him like a vulture. Just so they can use him to boost their own popularity.

(and if I'm honestly speaking, if Birdman were somehow a high ranker. Bakugo would have fallen for it hook, line and sinker)

This subtly introduces a second idea: that Heroes are not as pure as they seem. Perhaps they can even be corrupt.

These two ideas, plotpoints, call them what you will. Do a good job at showing us the cracks in the mirage. Cracks that seemed to be widening come the Sports Festival.

So what happend?

I'm sure we're all familiar with the utter disappointment/disaster that was MHA's epilogue.

Regardless if you believe the initial final chapter to be canonical or the more recent 'improvement'. We can all agree that it bombed in regards to doing the above any justice.

The simple answer is that Hori (in my opinion) is a spineless hack, who can draw really good but for the love of god. Keep him out of the Writers room.

Hori seems to whine about how dissatisfied he is with MHA's direction towards darker themes or even complaining about characters he wrote into the story himself (see Tetsutesu x2.)

Hori lacks any guts when it comes to his own writing, preferring to laze-about in what's comfortable. The problem is he didn't write a comfortable story.

Corruption, Eugenics, Peer Abuse, Negligence and Human Trafficking. These are all things that MHA brings up but Hori refuses to touch on. Despite having wrote them into the world (and plot) himself.

Someone once commented under a post of mine that my W.I.P worked as a story because the events fit, rather than simply existing for shock value.

Now I cannot confirm whether or not the above were added to drive up stakes. However with how MHA ended up, I wouldn't be surprised if it was like the Big Three all over again. Hori adding something, nor knowing what to do with it and then desperately trying to smother it while introducing the "next big thing".

Ultimately, I find it humorous that someone so inspired by comic books and Star wars, is such a coward when it comes to pushing boundaries. Instead choosing to fall in line with what's trending, what the polls say, chasing after something that could never be obtained in the first place.

But hey look at the bright side, at least we have fan-works.