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weaselle · 7 months

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it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

#long post #sorry #i just have a lot of DO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND feelings left over from all my years in restaurants #restaurants #line cook #service industry

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moralesispunk · 8 months

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I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 year

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Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

Mini series masterlist

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #90s!eddie #college!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut

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tpwk-formula1 · 10 days

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Celebrations and an Orgasm - CL16***

REQUEST OPEN

Charles Leclerc X Reader

Summary: After winning Monza Charles and his long time girlfriend go out for dinner with their family and friends to celebrate, but Charles can't contain himself and chooses to tease you the entire dinner.

TW - NOT PROOF READ, teasing in public, car activities, fingering, orgasm

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Amore, what time is dinner at again?" I call out from the bathroom knowing Charles is in the connected room on his phone blowing time before he would have to start getting ready.

Tonight we were finally going to be celebrating Charles's win in Monza. He invited some family and a few members of the grid.

"7, but we should leave around 6:30," Charles responds back before I hear him get out of our shared bed and make his way into the bathroom.

"You look beautiful," Charles tells me while wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me into his chest.

"Thank you, I haven't even started getting ready," I tell him with a small laugh falling from my lips.

"Ya, well you're as beautiful as ever," Charles says before placing a kiss on the top of my head before leaving the bathroom once again.

Once I was finally done getting all ready I made my way into our shared closet to find a nice dress to wear. I had to make sure it was classy enough for dinner but still good to make our way into one of the clubs in Monaco.

Filtering through many of my opinions I decided to wear Charles's favorite black dress he had gotten me last year on our summer vacation.

When I slip it on I make my way into our shared room again to find Charles in a nice button-down and some black slacks.

"Amore, you look nice," I tell him making my way to him where he instantly pulls me in to place a few kisses on my lips before placing a kiss on my forehead and pulling back to take my outfit in.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Cherie," Charles mumbles when he takes my dress in.

"Are you sure we gotta go," he jokes making me laugh and shake my head at his antics.

"Put your shoes on, horny boy," I laugh before grabbing my favorite black heels and slipping them on to complete my look.

I grab my wallet and hand it to Charles knowing I don't want to worry about carrying around a purse when we get to the club. When he slips it into his pocket he grabs my hand and walks us out the front door but not before we give Leo a few kisses.

When we finally get to dinner we find our family already there talking Carlos, Lando and Max's ear off.

"There's our winner," Pascale announces when she sees us approaching. She pulls Charles in for a quick hug and a few kisses on the cheek before giving me a hug.

"You look beautiful," Pascale says pulling back from the hug.

Once we all settled in and the rest of the guests arrived we all started talking amongst ourselves.

While having a rather expressive conversation with Lando from across the table I feel Charles's hand start slowly wandering from my knee up to the middle of my thigh. I don't think too much of it as he's in a deep conversation with Arthur. It wasn't until Charles's pinky finger grazed the edges of my panties making me suck in a slight breath at the brave action.

I subtly take Charles's hand in mine and move it from the destination he had decided on.

"Lascialo," (quit it) I lean over and whisper in Charles's ear before placing a kiss on his cheek to make it seem like a lovebird moment versus me scolding him. I see the smirk on his face start to grow making me roll my eyes knowing it was going to be a long night.

As the dinner went on Charles continued with his wandering hand with me always moving it away knowing a family dinner was no place to tease.

After moving his hand away for the fourth time I finally gave up and chose to ignore him entirely. I knew the second I started not giving him the attention he wanted I knew he would start teasing me substantially more.

I wasn't wrong cause when I felt Charles graze his fingers across my thong all over again, I knew it was coming so I was able to suppress any noise that would have slipped past my lips.

I could tell that wasn't what Charles had wanted because he instantly found my clit through my panties and started softly rubbing bringing up my heartbeat slightly.

"Amore," I whisper facing Charles trying to pull his hand away, knowing at any moment I could make some noise. Finally, Charles pulls his hand away and leaves it resting on my thigh a good distance from my pussy.

When his hand is finally set I can feel a bit of moisture on the tips of his fingers showing me that I was soaking through my panties.

As the dinner finished up Charles had left me alone in a sense of teasing but the damage had been done. I was extremely horny and I had no idea how I was going to make it through the night.

"Amore, please," I whine as soon as we get into the car to head to the club knowing damn well I was gonna be driving us home after because Charles will be far too drunk to be able to do it himself.

"What do you want," Charles questions with a smirk on his face making me whine again while throwing my head back.

"Touch me please," I whisper still staring at the roof of the car hoping for some kind of relief before we get to our next destination.

"I am," Charles teasingly reminds me by sending a soft slap on my thigh right where his hand had been resting.

"Charles, you better make me cum before we get there," I finally said while taking his hand and pushing it where I wanted.

"You have like 2 minutes, do you really think you can get there," Charles says while slowly pulling my panties to the side where he finds my clit and starts circling it with his fingers.

"Fuck," I moan when he starts applying more pressure helping me release all of the pent up frustrations from being teased during dinner.

I feel Charles slip his fingers into my pussy instantly hitting my G-spot making me moan loudly.

"I'm close," I gasp to Charles making him circle his thumb over my clit instantly throwing me over the edge into an intense orgasm.

"Oh fuck," I scream out while in the midst of cumming all over Charles's fingers.

"Good girl," Charles whispers as we pull up to the club. Before he opens the door for Vallet I see him suck his fingers cleaning all my juices off of them.

"Thank you," I whisper before leaning over the center console and placing a kiss on his cheek. I could see the smug smirk back on his face knowing he had teased me so good that I was cumming all over his fingers within minutes.

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wolfythewitch · 5 months

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what reason would you give someone for them to convert to christianity? /gen i’m very curious to hear your answer as an atheist(?) going to a catholic school where every chapel boils down to ‘jesus can solve all your problems’. hope this isn’t taken in an offensive way, i’m genuinely curious what reasons people have!

See I don't really want to convert anyone to Christianity? Nor am I looking to. Need to make that clear before I continue.

A lot of people believe in a god because it offers to them a sense of comfort. Some people do it because they genuinely believe in a higher power. Religion is a very personal thing, you can't really boil it down one way or another. That's why any church who tries to tell you why to believe in God, well they might get some people but they won't get all. Believe in Jesus cannot solve all your problems. Or, well. I'm sure he can. But you will still hurt and life is a bitch. You can't reel people in with the promise of a perfect Christian life because then people will be sorely disappointed.

And. That's not even really getting into how corrupt a lot of the churches are out there. Unfortunately the problem with any organized religion is belief in a higher power can only go so far when any institution acting as its mouthpiece is human. The language of the gods tends to get a little mistranslated along the way. And then hypocrisy starts wading into the mix. And people like to use god to excuse their own actions.

And I mean I don't even really know why I'm religious. It could be many things. I've said before my relationship with faith is complicated. It could be guilt making me stay. It could be my parents converting me at a young age. It could be because I do believe there's a higher power out there. It could be because it's easier. Who knows? But my reasons will not be your reasons.

I'm not trying to dissuade you or anything haha but. Well. If you're ever thinking about converting, you can get a second opinion, join a community, go to Sunday church, but you can only ever really ask yourself why

#raspb3rryyyyy #wolfy tedtalks #wolfy religious tedtalks #this mightve gone a little off topic sorry HAHA #im npt saying dont go to church #community is important!#but you also have to think about that community critically #whats worse than going to hell? going to hell in jesus' name

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murdrdocs · 10 months

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coriolanus in the peacekeeper uniform + gaul's daughter 18+ (fem! implied reader)

coriolanus when he returns to the capitol, eager to be back home where the streets are neatly paved and clean. where the people are civil and speak proper. where their clothes are intricate and the complete opposite of dull. he's so ecstatic that he can't even begin to dread going to doctor gaul's as his first stop, especially not when he knows her daughter will be there.

"my kin in the only ways that matters," volumnia would always say, a proud smile on her face as she played with the neat ponytail that always sat at the back of her daughter's head.

it was sitting there when coriolanus saw you, brandished with a red bow that matched the top half of gaul's outfit, one similar to the one you wore. the ponytail and outfit are skewed now, a product of coriolanus' overeager hands.

he's had adrenaline pent up in his body. adrenaline that he usually got out by hanging out with lucy gray. but that's gone now. lucy gray isn't here.

but you are.

you're here with your legs spread, your ankles hooked behind his back, the heel of your sneakers digging into coriolanus' peacekeeper uniform. with each sloppy thrust into your sopping heat, coriolanus' cock grazes the red lace of your panties that he'd carelessly pushed aside. it's a delicious friction, it makes him shudder and dig his head into the crook of your neck. he's so deep within you, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your skin every other thrust, yet you want him deeper. you pull with your ankles, nudge at his shoulder, force your hips closer to his, all to communicate your carnal need.

coriolanus can't stop thinking about how good you feel. because you feel so good. there's no real distinction between your cunt and the one's back in the districts (pussy is pussy), yet coriolanus swears he can feel it. maybe it's because he's fucking pussy of the same socioeconomic class. maybe it's because with each thrust, he believes he's tainting you.

volumnia gaul's daughter, sweet and innocent and always quiet, now struggling to keep her moans to an appropriate volume. the two of you are already making enough noise as is, your cunt squelching at an obscene volume. the walls of gaul's lab does nothing to conceal the noises, and even if you're tucked away in a corner of the halls that rarely have traffic at all, coriolanus still can't help but tease the possibility of being found.

"think their opinion of you would change? hm? like mine has?" he's facing you head on now, the slope of his nose looking even more intense under the shadows that his hat creates. you wish he'd take it off, a previous plea of yours from before the encounter got to this point. but he denied, just more proof that in this moment, like this, he had control.

you don't respond, instead letting your head fall back and knock against the concrete. coriolanus seems annoyed, a particular harsh thrust dragging you up the wall. you yelp and coriolanus grins, his perfect pearlescent teeth shining at you. his hands dig further into the flesh of your ass underneath your skirt which has been flipped up to accommodate your sinful acts.

after giving you two more drives of the same intensity, he continues.

"i never thought you'd be able to take dick like this. who's been fucking you? or have you been fucking yourself? pleasing yourself while you think of me? is that it?" when you nod, coriolanus can't help but shockingly chuckle.

his eyebrows have risen, his eyes have gone wide, but you can't see any of this. you only see the cruel curl of his lips and the flare of his nostrils as he asks, "really?"

your nails, freshly manicured, scratch at the waterproof material of his uniform. it doesn't provide any place for you to grab onto, nothing to steady yourself. you whine, starting to become frustrated, and when coriolanus mockingly coos, you become embarrassed.

"please, coriolanus. i wanna see you."

"coryo," he snaps. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"

you're quick to correct yourself, repeating your request once more with the nickname woven in there placatingly, the fear that the use of his full name will pull him away from you completely stuck to your membrane.

feeling generous, coriolanus peels his hat away from his head and drops it at his feet, leaving you to stare straight into his bright blue eyes. they seem to have gotten brighter in his absence, shining with power and authority.

with the sex driven haze in your mind, you note that it's a good look on him. it's fitting.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coryosworld!#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #celeste writes thg #coriolanus snow x black!reader #peacekeeper!coryo

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joonsytip · 3 months

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Only for Love || Mingyu - Epilogue

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: divorce, reader is pregnant and having it hard, emotional baggage, tears and profanities, mentions of throwing up, morning sickness, lot of banter.

Word Count: 7.8k

[ Svt Masterlist ] [ Svt Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Mingyu didn't get a wink of sleep, neither did you. It's something given.

What's not given for him is the way you're waiting for him with the luggage by the door.

"No...", Mingyu says to himself, as he eyes the bags and then takes a look at your face. He then scurries off to the guestroom only to find all your belongings gone. He goes to the bedroom and same, the house has no traces of you left.

And once you leave, no one would be able to tell if you were ever here, not even Mingyu himself.

He comes back, devasted.

"Please, don't leave.", he pleads, his voice coming out in cracks, "Not when I have so many things to tell you, so much to confess."

You bite your tongue and while trying to maintain the poker facade, you say, "I'll sum it up for you. Our marriage is based on a contract between you and my uncle. And even after over 2 years of the marriage, you find it difficult to be with me because I'm..", you suck in a deep breath, "not Sora. I'm not like her."

Mingyu looks at you with tears in his eyes, wanting to retort everything you're saying but he knows nothing he says would make you believe him. After all, trust has been compromised.

"And I'll never be her, Mingyu.", you say, your voice giving out the dejection, "So I'm freeing you from this marriage. We'll get divorced. You can be with whoever you want. And I will lead my life as how it was supposed to be."

"How was your life supposed to be?", Mingyu asks, his heart thumping as he close the gap between you two.

"Alone.", you answer him, unwavering.

"God, no", he holds you gently, "You belong with me, Y/N. I known I have been dishonest with you when you had clearly warned me beforehand. And I know I've hurt you so much over the span of our marriage but please believe me when I say that I'd not do it with anyone else, it'll be always you."

His gaze tears the shield that you have guarded yourself with, your grip on the trolley loosens for a moment.

And before you give in, you brace yourself.

"We're done talking, Mingyu. I'll have my lawyer set a date with you and yours.", you say removing his hands, "As I said, you can have everything you want--"

"But all I want is you, Y/N."

Your heart beats erratically in your chest. Your senses start to behave abnormally and your mind almost discards the rationalities. But you know you couldn't afford all these, that for him to be well, you'd have to let go.

"Except me, anything you want.", you say in a strained voice, your hands itching to wipe those tears from his face, "I know you're ambitious so that's why I don't think our divorce would weigh much on you. If you respect and value the time we spent together, for the sake of those, divorce me. I beg you, I want nothing else."

And Mingyu stands exactly where you have left him. It's a been a week and he's miserable.

His parents are not in talking terms with him, the moment they knew about the contract which is leading to the divorce.

And Minhee, she's has been taking the worst hit. And now, she understands if you never want to see her again after what her brother has done. But doesn't mean, it'd hurt less.

Unlike her brother, she was not popular with people. Majority approached her just get a whimp of her brother and that's why she had trust issues, leading her to be cautious of people. She does have genuine friends she's close with but you, you are different.

Minhee admires you, proudly calls you her family and loves you because she has noticed it all. How you have accommodated yourself and been a part of the family. Not big with words but bigger with actions. And maybe Mingyu can be dumb but the entire family knows that you love him, it's so painfully obvious.

"Hey", a soft voice breaks her reverie. She turns to look and finds Soonyoung.

"I don't want to see you.", she tells him, "So leave."

Soonyoung sighs, "But you're upset and I can't see you like this--"

"Why do you care suddenly?", she glares at him, "Look, I don't like you anymore okay? I can't believe you all knew about that contract but didn't stop him. What kind of friends are you?"

Soonyoung just sits, head down and listens to her reparimend him. At least, he gets to see her.

"What do you want?", you ask, checking your watch. There's an unfamiliarity in your tone.

"Can you please reconsider and withdraw the petition?", Jeonghan asks politely.

"No.", you flatly deny.

He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, which is rare.

"Mingyu is not doing well, Y/N. He has shut out everyone.", he says, "That day, Sora took Mingyu with her to visit me because she thought I'd not meet her if she comes. And it was totally work, nothing else Y/N. Mingyu doesn't have feelings for Sora, he likes--"

You raise your palm up and Jeonghan shuts up. There's nothing much to say, not anymore. So you just give him an ultimatum before leaving.

The day comes fast and hits harder. Mingyu sits frozen with the pen in his hands, his vision dazed, mind blank. It's happening and it's a matter of time then you'd be denounced as husband and wife.

As you sit in front of him, you can't help but notice Mingyu's state. You can tell he's been having it hard, he looks lost. He hasn't spoken except when urged since he arrived, he seems like an entirely different person.

Mingyu can't bring himself to sign the papers. He can't bear to look at you. And since the universe have decided to bite him back with karma, he does it.

A single drop of tear wets the paper, just below the line where he signs his name.

The formalities are done and it's official. Though there's a cool off period both sides know that it's of no use.

Your lawyer leads the way out, solemnly announcing the outcome of the meeting.

"Y/N", Mingyu calls and you dismiss your lawyer waiting for him to catch up.

There's a devastatingly sad smile on his tear stained face and your breaks at the sight of him.

"So it's ends here.", Mingyu says trying to hide the quiver in his voice, "I'm sorry for everything, Y/N. I have been a failure and I can't do anything to fix it. But I wish you healing and a peaceful life ahead."

He quickly wipes the tears and continues hesitantly, "If ever my name comes to your mind, please contact me. I'd come if you want help in something minimal, I'd listen if you wanna curse me out. Be it anything, all you have to do is drop a text or call me and I'll come to you. We can't be friends but I'd like to just pretend."

You don't think you can hold your tears anymore so you let them fall. Mingyu is surprised and his hands almost touches your face in worry but he remembers that it's not his place anymore.

"Live well, Mingyu.", you tell him, "Take care of mom, dad--", rectifying it quickly, you continue, "aunt, uncle and Minhee. We all mistakes, make sure to learn from them and treat others rightfully."

Mingyu understands the weight behind your words. Times seems to have frozen as none of you make a move.

You take the initiative to break the reverie. Because even if Mingyu thinks it's the end but you know you'd have to see him again.

"The sunset is beautiful, isn't it?", you smile through your tears, looking up at the sky then back at him.

And just as you predicted, Mingyu doesn't get the meaning of your words because he's distracted and you're relieved.

Your apartment still feels foreign. It shouldn't be as you've lived here for most of your life and now you are sitting alone, lost in the thoughts.

Whenever there is too much on your plate, you'd call your uncle. Just listening to his voice soothes you so you quickly fish out your phone. But just as your thumb hovers over the call button, tears stream down because you remember that you won't be able to hear his voice ever again.

You've started showing a little since the second trimester has started and you are thinking of ways to tell Mingyu, scared at wits remembering how everything went down everytime you've tried to let him know.

But you know you've to let Mingyu know about the baby and it has to be soon.

Stress is eating at you and nausea has become your best friend. Morning sickness loves you and you can barely eat any food without throwing out. Minghao has been attentive, trying his best to help you out but there's a limit to he can do.

You are not feeling particularly well today while you're at work. For some reason your chest feels like vacuuming out, your head spins a little.

You have been doing great at hiding the uneasiness until you're addressing the people about some requirements in the character design involving all the teams and your legs gives up. Your vision spars and suddenly your eyes shut, causing you to loose consciousness.

Minghao lurches forward, catching you in time saving you from the impact of fall. He doesn't waste any time picking you up and rushing to the hospital, himself being drained out in fear.

Soonyoung immediately follows and while he drives behind, he makes a bunch of calls.

The lights from the ceiling are blinding enough to cause irritation even if your eyes are closed. There are murmurs at the backdrop but they're low not quite reaching your ears. Your left hand feels heavy, you think there's a weight on your stomach.

You squeeze at whatever was enclosing your hand and a very familiar voice calls out your name. But you can't figure out who it is. There are repeatative calls but your eyes are so heavy that you're finding it difficult to open them.

You feel a touch on your cheek, a soothing rubbing of thumb on it and you're able to open your eyes finally.

And you came across his face. Eyes red, lashes wet and hurt etched on features. His eyes are fixated on your face.

"Mingyu", you say grabbing his hand, "Where am I?"

Mingyu sighs in relief and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin as he speaks, "You're in the hospital. How are you feeling?"

"What happened to me? Why am I feeling so tired and sleepy?", you ask, as you hold his face, rubbing your thumb against his cheek gently, "Take me home and hold me to sleep please."

Mingyu worries at your state but he knows that it's an after effect of concussion and you'll be back to normal after some time.

"Is the baby fine?", you ask with a quiver in your voice.

Mingyu's eyes water with tears again at the mention and he backs away for a moment wiping those. He takes deep breathes and returns by your side.

Gently, caressing your bump he answers, "The baby is fine."

"Don't tell uncle that I'm here, he'd be worried.", you say and his heart breaks.

He nods at you wordlessly, choking back his sobs.

There's a smile on your face, "I can't keep my eyes open."

"Rest well.", he says, stroking your head, "I'll be here when you wake up."

"How's she?", Minhee asks as soon as Mingyu steps out of the room.

"She just woke up.", he informs, "She's suffering from concussion. She was asking for her uncle."

Mingyu's steps stumble as he seats on a chair. When he received the call from Soonyoung, he rushed to the hospital only to see you lying unconscious on the hospital bed.

And on asking the doctor, the first thing he discovers is that you're four months along in pregnancy. As the timeline aligns, it kills him to belatedly know that you dealt with your uncle's death, the divorce all by yourself being pregnant.

"Why didn't she tell me?", Mingyu ponders out loud, tugging on his hair forcefully.

"Maybe she was waiting--", Junhui is cut off.

"She had tried to tell you three times in exact.", Minghao pitches in, his voice stern and accusatory, "The first time, at the office event but you decided that going somewhere with ex-girlfriend was more important."

"You should tone it down. It's not what you're thinking.", Jeonghan chimes in his friend's defence.

"Oh I'm not talking to you.", Minghao glares at him, "And I know what is what and not."

His gaze directs back at Mingyu, "The second time was when she returned home only to find you bitching about her to these guys over here.", he gestures at group standing scattered in the area, "She was nervous about how to crack the news to you, that was the only reason she returned."

Mingyu sits frozen in place as Minghao hammers the nail on his heart one by one.

The final blow punctuates brutal and hard, when Minghao says, "The third time was", he pauses for a moment before continuing, "The day uncle died. If you remember, she had asked you come home earlier, it was because she wanted to tell about the pregnancy."

"She must have been so scared. It must have been so hard for her.", Minhee whispers, choking on tears, "We have been so ignorant. We don't deserve her."

Soonyoung runs to her side but Minhee steps away from him, drawing a line.

Minghao nods solemnly, "Even after that she tried but her mind succumbed to the thought that something bad would happen again if she reveals about the pregnancy. She is indeed scared."

Hansol walks up to him and pleads, "Tell us if there's anything we could do. I don't care, be it anything, please."

Minghao scoffs, "You should have done something when your friend was going to marry her because of a contract which she wasn't even aware about.", he jabs his finger at his chest, "you should have knocked senses into your stupid friend when he chose his ex-girlfriend.", another jab, "you should have fought back when he was bitching about his own wife."

He sweeps his sharp gaze across the faces, "You could have done a lot of significant things but you chose not to and now there's nothing left to salvage."

"You're right.", Seokmin resorts to resignation, "We, as a bunch are awful. All of us."

Minghao is all riled up with pent up frustration of months bouncing off, he walks over to Mingyu grabbing his collar and pulling him up on his feet. When others try to pull them apart, Mingyu shakes his head, a sign asking them not to interfere. His head bowed down throughout.

His voice drips with venom when Minghao says, "How could you say that she didn't change? How could you not know how bad her morning sickness is? Why did she have to deal with everything and suffer alone while you lived with her?"

Minghao has so much to say, so much to let Mingyu know but he cannot. He doesn't have the right to do so.

He grabs the collar tighter, with much force, enough to draw lines of abrasion on the later's neck, "Don't think she's alone. She has me, she'll always have me. And you must have heard the rumours going around since you have a spy at our office.", he says looking at Soonyoung and back at him, "I'll tell you the truth. I love Y/N."

All pair of eyes widen at the declaration, even Mingyu's. Minghao's eyes are teary as he speaks his heart out, "I will always love her. Even if she never reciprocates, my feelings for her won't change."

Mingyu's parents who have been listening to the conversation, without announcing their presence decide not to interfere.

Later when you woke up, you didn't let anyone else meet you apart from Minghao who also completes the formalities for your discharge.

But when Mingyu almost barges in, you tell him to visit your apartment the next day if wants to talk. He simply obliges.

"I have tried to tell you about the pregnancy--"

Mingyu shakes his head, he doesn't meet your gaze, "I know now and that's what matters."

You scrutinize and everything about him screams that he is not doing well. Physically evident, mentally also as his body language gives it out.

"This wasn't planned and I'm keeping it so if you don't want to be a part of it, this will be the last time we're meeting--"

You don't get to finish the sentence as Mingyu lunges forward and kneels at your feet.

"I was a bad husband and I understand if you don't have any trust left in me. But we made it, Y/N. Of course I'll be there through the rest of the pregnancy and after that. We'll raise the baby, our baby.", he tries to convey his sincerity through his words, "I failed to be a good husband but I promise I'll try to be a good father."

"I'm sorry, you had to find out this way.", you say, your hands finding its way to wipe the tears that stained his cheeks.

You have been awfully swayed, your emotions are a mess and you can't mask your real emotions anymore. Pregnancy hormones are being tough on you and what you're scared the most about is letting yourself loose in Mingyu's presence. Something you cannot afford.

Mingyu is also quick to catch the changes in your demeanor. He knows you're being vulnerable and you'll be trying your best to conceal it but he makes a promise to himself that he'll protect you, take care of you. Even if you push him away, he won't scurry away this time.

Another episode of Mingyu's crying happens when you show him the sonograms from all the previous checkups and he carefully pockets the copies you give him, promising to accompany you for the checkups, memorizing the dates by heart from your calendar.

"What have you been eating?", he asks, padding into the kitchen. You follow him.

Concern grasps at him on hearing that you cook for yourself now and Minghao sometimes bring in his cooked food but you throw up more than you can eat. You tell him that you've been having trouble sleeping which caused the fatigue.

"I'll cook for you from now on.", he says determined.

"I appreciate it but you don't have to do it. It'll be a hassle--"

Mingyu dismisses you as he scans through the kitchen and makes the notes of the groceries that needed restocking, "My hassle, I'll handle it. Anyway, I used to cook for us."

"That's what.", you interject, "You used to. We're divorced now."

Mingyu freezes at the mention of divorce but quickly regains his composure, "I'm doing this for our baby. You can't tell me otherwise, I'm sorry but expect to see me a lot more from now on. And though I know it would make no sense to you but you can rely me."

You don't respond to that rather making a lame excuse, walking back to the bedroom.

Since then, it's been a rollercoaster ride for the both of you.

Whenever you try to draw a line, Mingyu erases it before it could even take a prominent shape.

"No, you don't have to drive me to work everyday.", you say sternly, "I can drive and if not Minghao can take me with him. He does that sometimes."

It's wrong of him to get jealous but when has the heart ever sided with him, "Minghao lives in the opposite direction, Y/N. It'll save all of us time and effort if you let me drive you."

"You also live in the opposite direction.", you snide, "Don't try to outsmart me."

Mingyu smiles sheepishly, "Anyways, I have to drop by to give you the lunchboxes. Now on, I'll just come early and cook here itself. My office starts later than yours so it's fine."

And no matter what you couldn't win over him. Hence, he now knows the passcode of your apartment.

"You're not allowed to barge in anytime without my permission. Always drop a text if you're coming. Don't misuse the privilege.", came your strict instruction with those 4 digits.

As another month passes by, your cravings start to get weirder. The urges always are to have something which you think no sane person would ever think about eating. And the timings, well random, no patterns.

Mingyu's heart drops when he's cooking one morning and you emerge from your room with a big patch pasted on your forehead.

He rushes to your side but you pretend to not notice him, roaming around the house aimlessly. And after a lot of tailing, Mingyu finally corners you.

The proximity almost makes you go berserk. His smell overpowers you causing you to nudge him to widen the gap.

"Lately, my cravings have been you know....", you trail off embarrassed, "It always hits at dawn hours."

Mingyu listens to you with utmost attention.

"I was craving candied pickles and I didn't have them at home so I went to the convenience store at 4 am."

You hush him when Mingyu opens his mouth, wide eyed, jaw dropped.

"I couldn't find the car keys and it was only there blocks down so I walked there and on the way back, I bumped onto a pole. It was dark, I missed it.", you whine rubbing your face in embarrassment and wincing when you accidentally rub on the cut.

It's a reminder to Mingyu of how you have been having it difficult and a string of regrets making him ponder that if the divorce didn't happen he could have been doing all of it for you, without having asked to.

He grabs your face, making you look at him, "From next time onwards, please call me, no matter what time. I'll bring you what you're craving. It's not safe alone out there, more when you're pregnant."

And he knows that even though you'd agree on his face but you'd never bother him out at odd timings. Scratch that, he wants you to contact him even for the simplest things but you don't. Every time his phone pops up a notification he wishes that it's you. But that never happens.

So one night when your cravings got to your head and you decided to make a quick round to the store, your heart leaped out of the chest on opening the door.

It's Mingyu, sitting by the threshold, well sleeping against the door. As the door opened his body fell inside, waking him up as the result of the impact.

You quickly stand him up on his feet and take him inside.

"What are you doing here?", you ask him flabbergasted, "Why were you sleeping at the door when you know the passcode?"

Mingyu, still groggy, answers, "You told me to not enter your house without informing you. And I didn't want you to go out alone."

Your heart twinges at his words. You should be having emotional turmoil but something unexpected is happening and you absolutely hate it. The cravings for food have suddenly subsided and now you're craving for something else.

Rather someone else. You're suddenly craving for your ex-husband.

How can he look so tempting, wearing just a simple t-shirt and trackpant while being sleepy. Blame it on the hormones and those r-rated scenes in the movie that you watched this afternoon.

"Don't pull something like this again.", you say, rubbing your neck, "Just punch the code and get in, anytime."

And Mingyu is left confused when you maneuver him to the other room asking him to sleep there before rushing into your bedroom because another moment he is in your vicinity, your control would snap.

Domesticity comes handy with Mingyu. He is the kind of person who could effortlessly blend into your life under any circumstances.

So one day when you stand oogling your shoes wrack with doe eyes and curled down lips, Mingyu comes searching for you.

"What did those shoes do so bad to make you upset?", he asks with a hint of humour in his voice.

You huff before craning your neck to look at him. You pull him beside and point at the topmost shelf saying, "Those are my favourite pair of stilettoes, it's been so long I've worn them. And that pair of ruby scarpin, I can hear them calling my name."

Mingyu knows about your admiration of heels which explains the huge collection you've accumulated. Staying with you, has also made him accustomed to the clacking of heels whenever you walked swiftly wearing them.

So he understands that pregnancy doesn't actually leverage you from wearing heels, but you don't wear them just to maintain safety and avoid prolonged effects.

He takes your hands with a mischievous smile, "Wanna experience the feeling of wearing them?"

"You know I can't."

He hushes you, pulling you closer. He gestures you to slip out of the sliders and straightens himself, "Hop on my feet."

You look at him confused, "You'll get hurt, plus even if I try my belly won't allow me to do so."

"Just trust me, okay?", Mingyu says coaxing you and you do give in.

As you can't see the ground beneath your belly, Mingyu guides you and as soon as your feet are on his, he adjusts them making sure that both of your heels are in the air. Once making sure of the position, he places your hands on his shoulders and secures his tightly around your waist.

He starts walking around the house with you.

"See, same same.", he grins, pecking your forehead.

You laugh, lolling your head back, "Getting creative now, are we Mr. Kim? I'll give you points for the height."

Mingyu swears that he'd walk you this all the time, that your feet won't touch the ground even for a second if you want.

One day, he accidentally discovers that phoenix_726 is actually you when he wanted to play a game but it's been so long that he has forgotten his credentials so he decides to play using your account.

"I thought you're a man!"

"I used voice modulator with my headset because creeps started hitting on me as soon as they I'm a female."

"I can't believe, we've talking to each other, played along so long without knowing the real identity."

"Remember, I'm a much better player than you, Kim Mingyu."

"You wish, Y/N. I'm obviously better."

That debate never ended.

This isn't supposed to happen. You stand by the kitchen counter, watching a very familiar scene unfold in front of you.

"I can see the gears turning, you know?", Minghao says as he stands beside you.

"How did I agree upon this?", you sigh, "What's wrong with me, this isn't supposed to happen."

His features soften, "Because though you were able to hide your emotions previously, now you couldn't do that anymore. They are here because you've missed them, it's because you love them and want to spend time with them."

You know he's speaking the truth. And your eyes tear as the words hit you. Minghao pats your back when he sees you wiping your eyes frantically hoping for no one to see you like this.

"Thanks for letting us meet you.", Minhee smiles as you both sit and enjoy the company, "I missed you."

"Me too, Minhee.", you look at her, returning that smile. You turn only to find Junhui humouring Minghao, the latter actually smiling at the antics which is rare. Seokmin and Jeonghan are seemingly scolding Soonyoung. And Hansol is talking about something real serious with Mingyu's parents.

And your breath hitches when your gaze locks with Mingyu, he has been looking at you the whole time.

"He misses you the most.", Minhee says, "But he's been happy now, keeps yapping about how he gets to see you everyday. Goes on for hours about how much more beautiful you've gotten, the pregnancy looks great on you. Cries every time, he realises you two aren't together and it's because of him."

You turn back to look at her, shaking your head. It's overwhelming.

You had a good time. Minghao gained new friends and Mingyu stayed back while everyone else left. It's because he knows you too well. He has noticed you caressing your protruding belly more than usual.

"It's just the usual spasms.", you tell him when he asks repeatedly, "Maybe because I moved around way too much today."

"I'm taking you to the doctor, tomorrow.", Mingyu says, "No objections. But for now, what can I do to make you feel better?"

"There's nothing to do, Mingyu. It'll go away."

Mingyu nods just to go back and hug you from behind. You freeze at the sudden action. His hands snake down from your waist as he gently tries to hold up the weight of your belly. And it's somehow soothing. He dips his nose on your nape to inhale your scent and you subconsciously lean back on him.

That night when you have trouble sleeping again, Mingyu spends it reading the books on parenting devotedly until you fall asleep in his arms, on the couch. But you wake up on the bed the next morning.

"What does this mean, anyone knows?", Soonyoung asks as the guys hang out.

Mingyu is involuntarily present as Minhee kicks him out of your apartment, declaring girls day. He has been sulking since then.

"The sunset is beautiful, isn't it?", Soonyoung adds, "This."

The phrase rings in Mingyu's ear as he tries to figure out its familiarity.

"Who said that to you?", Seokmin asks amused.

Soonyoung gulps, he can't reveal that Minhee had said it to him so he brushes it off.

Seokmin cocks his brows but tells nonetheless, "When someone says this, it's a way of them telling you that they love you, but they're letting you go."

Soonyoung freezes and so does Mingyu.

Seokmin looks at both of them lost while Hansol quickly catches on.

"By any chance, did Y/N say that to you?, Hansol asks and before Mingyu could answer Jeonghan stirs up.

"She did.", he confirms, "On the day they got divorced. I was there and heard it as well. Thought it was unusual of her to say something like that given the situation. But it makes sense now."

Junhui gasps, "Oh my god", he slaps his hand covering his mouth in shock, "She loves you, goddamn it. She loves you!"

Mingyu sits frozen. His mind is empty, no thoughts at all.

"Min?", Seokmin tries to shake his friend out of the trance.

"Gyu", Jeonghan calls calmly, "There's something I have been meaning to ask you for some time."

And when he does so, Mingyu does show a minimal movement. And of a sudden his empty mind from before starts filling up with all sorts of thoughts. His head and heart teams up to concierge him.

Mingyu looks at him robotically.

"You had kept the contract papers in the locker right? Did you even tell Y/N the passcode?", he asks.

Mingyu shakes his head, "No. She doesn't know."

"Then how did she get the papers? Did you check the locker again?", Hansol asks further.

"All she said was that she got the papers from my office. And while in the hassle, it didn't occur in my mind to check the locker again.", Mingyu answers.

"If my hunch is right, then I'm guessing it's a lie.", Jeonghan says, "I think she already knew about the contract, sometime after the marriage."

"How did she know? Her uncle never wanted her to know so he wouldn't tell her.", Junhui asks, "And even if she knew then why did she use it to get a divorce?"

"Only Y/N has the answer to these questions.", Jeonghan says, "Gyu, just go and check the locker and if you find your copy of the contract papers then just go and confront her. I'm sure she has her reasons so know them and see if there's a chance of reconciliation."

You notice that Mingyu has been acting quite out of character for the past few days. He seems like lost in thought. There's something different about the way he looks at you now.

The day before when you both went out to buy clothes and stuff for the baby, unlike other times he remained absent minded. You chose not to bother him.

But as the pregnancy progressed towards the end of the last trimester, it has been giving you one kind of hell. You are pretty much lost without Mingyu, feeling like a liability who's useless without him. Your emotions are a mess and you're always tired.

Mingyu wishes he could do anything to soothe your pain. He cries in the bathroom at nights when he hears your groans and sees those tears streaming down your eyes. There's another turmoil that's whirlwinding inside him, he has so many questions he wants answer of but he couldn't, just didn't wanna cause of any more of stress.

After a lot of negotiation and convincing, Mingyu now gets to hold you to sleep. His warmth visibly helps you to sleep better. What's bothering him is how you tremble in your sleep at night, there's always some incoherent murmuring before you are crying which prompts him to wake you up in the middle of night. And no matter how many times he asks, you never utter words about those reoccurring nightmares.

One night when Mingyu instinctively wakes up just to check on you, he finds you looking at him. His heart drops when he finds you sobbing.

"Gyu", you caress his cheeks, "there's something I want to tell you."

Mingyu holds your hand that lays on his face, giving a nod.

You lean in, faces merely an inch apart, "I love you."

You feel him go stiff under your touch. But he doesn't look at you as if you've grown another head rather there's calamity in his features.

"I'd have regretted if I didn't say it to you.", you admit, "There's a favour I want from you."

"What is it?"

"If there's a situation comes while I give birth", you voice quivers, "where you could save either me or the baby. Choose to save the baby, please."

Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing. He can't fathom loosing either of you.

"Where is this coming from?", he croaks as his hand ascends to protectively rub your belly.

"I have been dreaming of banshee, everynight. It signifies that someone would die in the family. I don't have anyone else from the baby so please promise me you'll protect our baby."

Mingyu pulls you closer, trying to keep his tears at bay, "Nothing such will happen. You both will be safe and healthy. I'll protect you both."

There's a moment of silence before Mingyu decides to speak up, "I found the copies of the contract in the locker. You never got those in hand. Since when did you know about it and why did you lie?"

You knew he was bound to find out someday so you decide to come clean because it's suffocating to keep everything within yourself for such a long time.

"That was the copy uncle had. I found out about the contract after a year since we got married. Came across the papers accidentally in uncle's office while I was visiting and confronted uncle. He confessed everything and I felt so betrayed.", you look up at him, "But I couldn't even think about leaving you. That's when I realised that I had fallen in love with you."

You press your finger on his lips when Mingyu tries to speak.

"But I also knew that you weren't over Sora, your social media still had all your pictures with her. It made me think if we should go through this marriage. My fault, I just couldn't let you go, I wanted to believe that you'd eventually come to me. Can you blame me though? You are my first love, of course I was being stupid and pathetic."

You laugh through your tears and it cracks his heart. Mingyu is rendered speechless by now.

"Then I decided to forget about everything because I thought we were making progress. Well, atleast I thought that we're happily married, alongside hoping that you'd fall for me. More confident because the pregnancy came along. It wouldn't be really hard to develop feelings for the mother of your child right? That's what I pondered over every night. But then a string of incidents happened."

Your voice tones down flat, the sadness returning in it, "When Sora came back, I knew you were just helping her. But I was just afraid because I can fight all the people who want you but I can't fight that one person whom you want. Sora was your first love after all."

You shift, creating a tiny space between you and him, "I wasn't mad at you when I heard you saying those things about me to the guys. Your mind was clouded, your first love had returned, now wanting you back where on the contrary you were married to someone whom you didn't love. I know it all came out because you knew you'd never fall in love with me and it's because I wasn't exactly the wife material. You couldn't think of ending the marriage because a lot was at stakes, yes, the contract, it ends with the end of the marriage."

"But still I chose to be selfish because of the baby and thought of working our marriage. Then my uncle died.", you shudder, recoiling, "And that was the last straw or you can say the indication I needed. I realised that I'm cursed. People around me or associated with me keep dying. So it's better to cut off the ties. I brought up the divorce using the contract papers because that was only way to protect you. Losing you as a husband is far better than losing you entirely."

Mingyu exhales sharply. If he felt like a jerk before, he feels absolutely trash after your confession. The man who had always taken pride in himself for being perceptive and empathetic, termed as their ideal type by many has his pride crumbled down, been to put to place.

He's simply a buffoon who couldn't even understand his wife. Just because you are not verbal, doesn't mean that you don't care. You cared more than anyone else, selfless enough to let go just to protect your love.

In a world where all these people think love's for show, you are the type to die for your beloved in secret.

"Mingyu", your voice pulls him out of the reverie. Mingyu thinks you've enchanted him, otherwise how could it make sense that you're glowing under the moonlight that's peeking in through the windows. Your smile melts him into a puddle, you're looking so divine.

When his gaze locks on yours, you say, "Stop feeling bad. It's not your fault, feelings can't be controlled. And people do go through unhappy marriages and opt for separation. It's quite normal. Also, you don't have to go beyond your capacity to accomodate me. I know you feel and are responsible for the baby but it's okay. Co-parenting is surely difficult but we will make it work. Don't miss out on love and life because you feel guilty towards your ex-wife. I'll be fine."

Mingyu has enough. He gently pushes you on your back and suddenly grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head. He hovers over you, careful of your belly and says, "You're doing awfully bad for someone who has such great perceptive skills."

Then he proceeds to rest his forehead onto yours. Your eyes widen and you try to free your hands but your strength is nothing as compared to his.

"Please, please kiss me or I'll go insane.", Mingyu whispers against your lips, freeing your hands.

"We shouldn't be doing this.", comes your meek response.

"And what if I say that I love you?", Mingyu nudges your nose with his, kissing your chin.

"Don't say something you'd regret later.", you say inhaling sharply.

"I'd regret if I don't confess now. I have already made a lot of mistakes, I can't afford to make any more."

He kisses your forehead, "I admire you in all the aspects. The way you're managing work and life while carrying a life inside you, amazes me."

Kissing on top of your eyes, he says, "I know you're independent and efficient but you can lean on me when things get rough."

He smiles as he kisses your cheeks, "You're so beautiful. You were a different kind of beautiful before the pregnancy, your beauty is unfathomable now and you will still be aphrodisiac post pregnancy."

Another kiss on your nose, "You're gaming skills are better than mine. But we conquer more when we're teaming up. So please take me in. I promise I won't let you down."

"I love you.", you shudder when his lips ghost over yours, "And I'm not confessing on just some whim or impulse. I mean it and I'll do anything to earn your trust. Even if it takes the lifetime I'll spend it making up to you."

He then waits patiently.

"I'm not responsible for my actions, the hormones are making me do this.", you anmounce before closing the gap.

Mingyu holds your face, kissing you slow and deep. Smiles when he feels your hand puckering on his shirt. Doesn't pull away until you're tapping on his arms for a breather. Latches back onto your lips after a second because he has been craving them so bad and now that he got the taste, he can't get enough.

The venue for the wedding is decorated beautifully, the lightings and flowers are complimenting each other in the best way.

You smile, sitting quietly as you resort to watching from a distance. The flute of champagne remains untouched.

Mingyu looked great when he walked to the altar. He looks beautiful on the stage. Seeing him donning the suit once again reminded you of your wedding. What if your marriage worked out?

Sora looks beautiful as well. Given, that she's the bride, all eyes are on her.

It's time to exchange vows, the priest announces. You don't remember all the vows you read during your wedding but you surely have some of them memorized. You wonder if they'll read the vows of similar wordings.

As the ceremony ends, your eyes move back and forth, studying the crowd when you feel the seat beside you being taken.

"Your presence on the stage was quite captivating.", you say boringly, "Someone could have mistaken you as the groom."

Mingyu laughs, "Actually I do want to get married but the woman I'm pursuing doesn't seem much interested."

You roll your eyes, "Then pursue someone else."

Though you don't look at him, you'd clearly sense the pout on his face, "But she's the love of my live and the mother of our son."

Your lips threaten to break into a smile. It's been over a year since you gave birth to Minjae, your son.

"Minhee had called.", you tell him, "She told that she'll be keeping Jae for another day, so no need to drop by her house."

Mingyu nods, "Minhee never lets him go easily. Jae seems to be fond of his aunt too. I'm sure Jae is perched on Soonyoung now."

You snort, "That's a given. I need your help on choosing the engagement gift for Minhee and Soonyoung. Hao will also join. When are you free?"

"For you, I'm always free.", Mingyu gives you a flirtatious smile, "Can Hao not come with us, I'll help him out separately."

"Let me go and congratulate Sora and Jungin quickly. We can leave after that.", you sigh at his antics and get on your feet, walking towards the newlyweds.

Sora, tired of her poor choices, sought out to her parents for arrange marriage and that's how she met Jungin and dated him for a while before tying the knot. You weren't exactly sure of attending your ex-husband's ex's wedding but Sora made you promise her and so you somehow ended up at the ceremony while Minhee took care of your son.

Not much has changed over the year. After your son's birth, Mingyu has become brazzen. He has become an absolute loser in love. And that loser has been courting you since then. You're always on your toes when around him because you have no idea what he'll pull. He is unofficially cohabitating with you in the name of parenting. You know better, even if Minjae grows up overnight and moves out, Mingyu would still not stop showing at your door with a bouquet in one hand and that damn smile.

You are unbothered when instead of dropping you off and leaving, Mingyu follows you into the apartment.

"Jae is not even here so what are you doing here?", you ask and take off your sandal.

And as you take another step, you're suddenly swept off your feet. You're not even surprised, your reflexes have grown immune. Mingyu effortlessly carries you to the bedroom and drops you on the bed, drops the blazer on the floor before joining you.

"I don't know about you but I need to change, can't sleep in this dress."

You whine when his grip around your hips tightens.

There's a goofy grin on his face, "I love you so much that my heart might explode someday. Thanks for giving birth to our son and for raising him with me. Thanks for being there for my sister and scaling that Soonyoung when he was confused about his feelings and being an absolute idiot. I like how happy both of them look together. Though you don't owe anything but I'm grateful as you always make sure to attend my parents' anniversary or birthdays and help them out when I can't. Thanks for being a great companion to my friends even after knowing how intolerable they can be."

You squint your eyes at him, already catching on.

Mingyu sits up and fishes out the very familiar velvety box.

He takes out the ring and asks, "Will you marry me?"

"No.", you say and get up, beelining into the bathroom to to get changed.

Mingyu smiles as he watches you. Here goes his 156th attempt of randomly proposing you and you rejecting him.

As Mingyu too gets changed and plops onto the bed, he whispers in your ear pulling you close to his body, "You know right, I won't stop asking you to marry me until you agree or find someone else which I pray for to never happen."

"What if I never say 'yes'?", you ask sleepily, feeling his lips giving feather kisses on your neck.

"I promised to wait a lifetime for you.", Mingyu answers in a heartbeat.

You drift off to sleep and Mingyu remembers something you had said a month or two ago as a part of your late night sleepy rambles.

"I'll marry you, after Jae turns three. I want him to be the flower boy at our wedding."

He still feels giddy, whenever he remembers your words. He doesn't know if he should account for something you said subconsciously, he's not sure if you are yourself aware of these words either. But what matters, what gives him hope is that deep inside your heart you've left him space.

So even if you agree to one of his random proposals, he'll prepare a grand proposal for you just before Jae's third birthday and will marry you right after his son turns three if you say yes.

Mingyu has planned out everything, he'd make Jae walk you down the aisle along with him. Though he's not sure if his heart will be able to handle such a sight. Marrying the love of his life in the presence of his family and friends, what else he could ask for.

Because in the end, everything is worth only for love.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

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jewelleria · 6 months

Text

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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lani-heart · 3 months

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> smut, manhandling, words -> 1.7K

abstract -> “Always used to getting what you want don't you?”

hongjoong’s pov

“Are you sure you want to go to a heat hotel?” Seonghwa asked me and I didn’t know what else to do… “You’re gonna regret it,” Yeosang added. “I don’t want her to feel like she needs to help me… I don’t want to force her” I said and they seemed to understand.

“She’s already accepted you both… besides she doesn’t mind helping us,” Wooyoung said and I felt like I had to just wait… for whatever reason.

“Hongjoong, are you ready!” I heard as I saw y/n now ready to take me to spend my heat with a stranger…

“Don’t come back saying you regret it” Seonghwa warned and I think I would regret it either way… but for now I had to go to that stupid hotel.

They took me away and it felt weird not having y/n with me… she won’t be with me for a week. I wouldn’t see the apartment for a whole week. I then saw a tiger hybrid like Seonghwa with her fur white but a bit duller than his… enter the room.

I could smell her heat, but for some reason, it didn’t push me further into mine. I know I was experiencing my pre-heat but surely I should’ve wanted to succumb to my desires right?

“Have fun” the employee said as I was now left alone with the unknown hybrid… “You're a collectible” she muttered and I growled. “I don’t mean that as offensive… I didn’t even mean to say it but your collar looks expensive” she defended and I knew that it was.

Each collar of hers was the same but different color or different jewels which differentiates me from the other hybrids at home… unique and made for me... which was a crimson red.

“Your owner must have not wanted to deal with a hybrid in heat huh?” she asked and it made me mad how many questions she asked… “No I decided to do it, '' I said and her eyes widened.

“And your owner actually listened?! No way… I was told all of the hybrid collectors could care less about their hybrid’s opinions!” she laughed and it took lots of control to not threaten her.

I found her annoying so how was I supposed to spend the rest of my time with her?

“You do smell like you’re in heat though… I haven’t started mine but I’m having pre-heat symptoms” she said as she now got closer…

“Ready?”

“Told you so,” Wooyoung said, teasing me and I scoffed. “What happened?” Seonghwa asked, clearly amused. “She kept talking about me as if I was a collectible, it was annoying. She was annoying and she had the same stupid fur color as yours” I muttered and they laughed at my misery.

“All hybrids see us that way because most of the hybrid owners as rich as ours collect hybrids,” Yeosang said and I knew he was right but I didn’t want to hear it…

“Hongjoong! Why would you threaten her?!” y/n soon rushed where we were to yell at me. She was trying to reason with her owner on the walk by phone but I think she just has to pay for damages and the hotel charges for that stuck-up she-tiger…

“She annoyed me” I muttered and she sighed and walked off still talking on the phone negotiating with the she-tiger’s owner. “You do know now you have two options y/n or pills,” Wooyoung said as he tossed me heat suppressants.

I walked silently to my room… Luckily, y/n agreed to move Seonghwa and let me have a room to myself despite the Doberman’s protests.

I sighed… I really didn’t want to take heat suppressants. I never have and starting would be bad for my health…

“Hongjoong” I heard as I saw y/n come in. I was annoyed how she constantly smelt like that panther hybrid especially how he’s been sleeping in her bed as of recently though that is my fault.

“Have you decided what you want to do?” she asked with a soft smile… she looked so innocent, why did I hate it? I wanted to ruin her…

“Hongjoong?” she said pulling me away from my thoughts. “I’ll just lock myself in here–” “That's not healthy though” She cut me off and I know it wasn’t but the hotel wasn’t an option anymore.

“I’ll be fine… thank you” I said and she sighed. “I can help you know? I… trust you” she said, actually genuine. “You shouldn’t give your trust to me you know” I said and she smiled.

“I do though… so Hongjoong?”

no one’s perspective

You asked one more time before the tiger’s fantasies took over and nodded. Getting closer to the tiger, he grabbed a hold of one of your thighs before pushing you onto the bed he was sitting in a second ago.

If you told Hongjoong he’d share his heart with a human he would’ve laughed at you a few months ago… but the way you looked up at him curious about what he’d do waiting for his move made him feral.

Those innocent eyes looked up at him… but he knew better. The fox was quite a sex crazed… and the panther a possessive lover, while the Doberman made you the loudest he’s ever heard you.

It was no secret how much those three loved you… but he never believed that it was truly easy to love you.

“Don’t look at me like that” he said… even though he likes your eyes looking up at him submissively, even though he knew that it could become an addiction.

“I thought you were okay with me helping you?” you asked and he hissed. “Not when you make it hard to control myself” he muttered and you offered him one of your genuine smiles… one that differed from the scared and anxious written expression he used to cause.

“You don’t have to… I'm not fragile, you know?” she asked and I chuckled. “Not that… I know you aren’t. But you make it hard for me not to claim you and mark you for your little mates to see” he teased and you then understood what he meant.

“I think… you don’t have to worry about that. Do what you’d like” you said and it shocked him. He let you go and sat down on the bed facing his back towards you… not wanting to make a mistake.

“Hongjoong… you’re bonded with Seonghwa right?” you asked and he nodded. “Well… then you really don’t have to worry. I know we had bad impressions but we put that behind us. I’m not stupid… if you want to make me your mate then do it” you said as you put your chin on his shoulder and he chuckled. He turned his head to face you…

“You’re making it harder on me than anyone i've met” he confessed and she chuckled. “It’s different when you like the person isn’t it?” you said and he didn’t say anything instead he grabbed your jaw but not like he did months ago. He messily and harshly kissed you now desperate…

It was messy as the both of you got lost at the moment. You didn’t even notice when Hongjoong had pinned you down on the bed as his hand stopped your head from moving too much.

When he pulled away he didn’t give himself any time to let his lungs rest as he sucked and bit on your skin. Specifically on the scar he caused… he didn’t like seeing it so he wanted to cover it with a different meaning. His free hand in the meantime clawed through your shirt and ripped open your bra. He gripped you harshly as if you were trying to run away.

His tail even gripped onto your thigh letting him comfortably lay between your legs, his chest pressed against yours and his mouth on your neck.

“Are you sure you want to continue?” he muttered, finally pulling away but not even to look you in the eyes but instead to observe the work he’s done with the dark colored love bites adorning your jaw and neck.

“Please” you begged and he chuckled. “So pretty when you beg like that” he muttered as he leaned in to give you a loving kiss before trailing down to kissing down to your chest and teasing you until he decided to go lower and stop just at where your panties covered you.

He ripped them up with his claws as he teased you. The cold air now makes it obvious just how wet you are as he smirks down at you.

“Anything to say my darling girl?” he asked you and you felt embarrassed having to beg especially when you weren’t used to it. not when the other three were so giving. “Please?” you said and he laughed at your innocence. “Always used to getting what you want don't you?” he teased and he was right… in more ways than one.

You suddenly yelped as he grabbed the back of your thighs and pressed them up against your chest. “But it's not like I can fight these urges,” he said now feeling his heat slowly getting him pent up.

He lined up his cock against your pussy and teased you as you felt the pressure of his weight on your clit. He wanted to see how your hands pressed against his stomach from his rough handle on you. Almost like prey trying to get free.

“Please Hongjoong!” you let out and he chuckled as he did what you requested but all in one go making it sting just a little to accommodate his size.

Hongjoong also let out a string of curses as he freed one hand by putting your leg to rest on his shoulder just to play with your clit making your moans only get louder and your expressions get more lewd.

He wasn’t normally one to think pervertedly but he definitely wanted to see what type of faces you make when he’s fucking you.

Both were desperate for one another and this perverted scene wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He was also intending to make more marks on your body… like handprint bruises on your thighs and more purple hickies adorning your body. Maybe even filling you up in so much cum that you’ll be leaking for days.

Just cause he had to share you, didn’t mean he wasn’t a possessive lover but maybe he’ll convince you to mark him up a bit too?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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