#THIS LATEST EVENT MADE ME FEEL THINGS OKAY?!?!

[miki3aqors]

I had an epiphany...

[papajohnnyspizza]

Stress Relief with Jeonghan

Summary: You're having a terrible day and Jeonghan decides to make you feel better.

category: fluff, smut

au: Established relationship, Jeonghan x f!reader

wc: 1.9k

a/n: was supposed to be 500w but I got carried away lol.

Warnings: smut, (breastplay, p-in-v, spanking, fingering), reader has female anatomy and uses she/her

The first thing Jeonghan hears when you burst through the door of your shared apartment is a pained yelp. It only takes a second for him to respond, leaving the romantic dinner he was cooking simmering away on the stove as he rushed to your crouching figure in the hall. 

“Y/n?” He placed a hand on your shoulder and started rubbing soothing circles. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You stood up with a groan, he could see there was a prominent coffee stain on the front of the new blouse you had just bought. “My stupid heel got caught in the doorframe and I twisted my ankle.” You reached for your injured foot and started not-so-gracefully pulling your heels off. “Because of these stupid shoes,” you flung the heels rather forcefully on the floor. “that I wasted my money on!”

Jeonghan could see what was happening from a mile away, your boss had been putting your entire team under major pressure to finish your latest project in record time and it was driving everyone insane. He thought he would make a nice romantic dinner tonight to help ease your mind, but it looked like you might need something more serious.

“I made your favourite.” He said, watching you move into the kitchen and pause. Breathing in the delicious smell of his cooking.

“Oh,” Your moan from the smell was borderline pornographic, and Jeonghan took the opportunity to wrap his hands around your waist from behind and place a few kisses to your hair and neck. “Jeonghan what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He just shrugs and moves to turn the stove off, you take a seat at the table. The food is perfect, if Jeonghan does say so himself, he got the recipe exactly how you like it. You go over the horrible events of your day, not sleeping enough the night before, traffic making you late, your coworker spilling their entire cappuccino on your outfit, realising you had a typo in an email you sent to the entire company, and finally your boss pulling your team aside just before work finished to let you know he needed to bring your deadline forward to next week.

“I don’t know how he expects us to sleep until then,” You said, rinsing your plate in the sink. “I can’t get my mind off of work, it's driving me crazy.”

“I could run you a bath?” He suggests.

“I don’t want to clean the tub, and besides it’s getting late.” You let out a dejected sigh, leaning back against the counter, and despite your mental anguish Jeonghan can’t help but think how sexy you look in your little work skirt and blouse- even if it’s stained.

“What are you staring at?” Your voice knocks him out of his trance, and he suddenly gets an idea to try and cheer you up.

“You need a way to relax?” He slowly starts moving towards you, eyeing you like a predator does its prey.

“That would be nice.” You fold your arms in front of your chest, accentuating your chest and Jeonghan’s mouth begins to water.

“Well I happen to know an excellent form of stress relief,” Jeonghan’s arms cage you in against the counter, leaning over you until you could feel his breath hot against your cheeks. His hands move to your hips, squeezing lightly. “Would you like to try?”

Your mouth feels suddenly dry, and it takes a moment to finally nod your head as his hands untuck your blouse from your skirt.

“Tsk, Tsk. I need words baby,” Jeonghan’s nimble fingers start unbuttoning the bottom of your shirt, while his dark, bottomless, brown eyes stare into your own, as if he’s trying to memorise your face at this exact moment.

“Please, Jeonghan,” You whine, his hands brushing lightly over your breasts. “Please fuck me.”

Jeonghan pulls away slightly, and you’re almost about to scream when you think he did all this just to rile you up after the day you’ve had. But instead he reaches for one of your hands, raises it to his face and gently places a kiss against your knuckle. “Of course, all you had to do was ask.”

That’s when Jeonghan smashes his face against yours, his hips painfully pushing yours against the edge of the counter. You groan as soon as you feel his warm lips on your own, finally able to let out some of the pent up energy that’s been building up inside you all day. You shrug the blouse off your shoulders and Jeonghan throws it somewhere on the floor. His lips begin trailing down your neck now and you let out a gasp, your hands snake into his long hair and you pull lightly, receiving a deep groan in return.

His hands begin skimming over your bra, mouth sucking at a vein on your neck and leaving your mind completely blank. All you can think about is how good his fingers feel caressing your breasts, roughly pulling down your bra so he could attach his mouth to one of your nipples. Your back arches, pushing further into his face and one of his hands begins circling around your other nipple. Afraid you’ll hurt him, you remove your hands from his hair and grip onto the counter instead. Nails digging into the surface as he moves his mouth from one nipple to another, suckling and kissing and even biting, you notice his hips beginning to grind into you. Your hands reach for his waistband without thought, but your wrists are immediately captured by his hands and held tightly in his grip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks. His pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen, hair mussed up from your ministrations. He looks gorgeous, you can’t take your eyes off him. The cool air of the room heightened from the saliva he left on your chest, it almost hurts.  

“I wanted to help you.” Your voice feels tiny in the silent room, Jeonghan’s eyes light up and you’re not sure whether to be excited or frightened.

“You do?” Jeonghan’s hand comes to trace along your jawline. His thumb comes close to your mouth and you automatically open your lips, thinking back to all the times you’ve been in a situation like this before. But instead he just chuckles slightly, closing your mouth for you. “Turn around.”

You do, you lay your front against the cool kitchen counter while you hear Jeonghan shuffle out of his own clothes. He doesn’t bother taking off your skirt, pushing it up until it’s bunched up around your waist. He pulls your panties down and lets them fall to the floor while you open your legs a little wider for him. For a moment he does nothing, and you feel pathetic again being left on the edge like this, but then you feel his cool fingertips running up along the inside of your thigh before stopping at the fullest part of your ass and squeezing. 

“You’re so wet baby,” He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss right in the centre of your spine. “Is all that just from me.”

“Yes,” you groan into the counter, he moves a finger inside your walls, thrusting lightly and curling to meet your sweet spot.

“So sweet,” He removes the finger, hands gripping firmly on your thighs. “Are you going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!” You’re voice is breaking, unable to take any more torment. “I’ll take it all.”

“Good girl.”

Jeonghan sheaths himself entirely inside you in one go, pulling out almost to the tip and slamming himself back inside again. You’re not sure what to hang onto from this angle, Jeonghan’s cock perfectly dragging along your walls was making it difficult for you to think. You lost all control of your voice, letting out small pants and moans with every thrust of his hips. You didn’t even have the space, or the energy, to try and meet his hips. Giving him full control and allowing yourself to just turn your mind off and relax.

One hand moves from your hip and you don’t even notice until it’s circling your clit like your body is a toy. Your back arches with the feeling, you try to stave off your approaching orgasm but it’s futile against his fingers and his cock. You feel the heat simmering in your stomach and you know that Jeonghan can tell you’re close because he won’t let up. The coil in your stomach turns tighter and tighter. Jeonghan moves behind you like a man possessed, grunting and moaning in time with his thrusts. His fingers circle harder around your bud and suddenly the dam breaks and you cum, clenching down hard around Jeonghan and moaning loudly. He continues moving, much slower now, gentle movements sending you into oversensitivity. You can’t see his face but you can imagine what it looks like, face contorted in pleasure from the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him.

“Hng, Jeonghan,” Your hand reaches behind you to try and still his movements. “I’m still sensitive.”

Jeonghan grips your arm, reaching for the other one and bringing them to rest in the dip in your back. “Y/n do you remember what you said earlier?”

“I would take everything you gave me-” You were interrupted by Jeonghan speeding up the pace of his hips, arms pinned firmly behind your back. Already you can feel the coil in your stomach building up again.

“That’s right, and you’re gonna do it,” He reaches a hand down your front to start rubbing at your clit. All you can do is let out a mixture of hiccups and cries as you clench down again, another wave of pleasure ripping through your body. Your forehead falls against the counter, sweat dripping down your face, you feel Jeonghan’s movements behind you getting sloppier, both hands squeezing around your hips again.

“Where do you want me?” His voice is shuddering, you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Inside me.” Is all you can manage. Jeonghan’s hips still as he bottoms out inside you, and you can feel his warm liquid filling you entirely. It takes a moment for his breathing to calm, but eventually he manages to step away from you. 

Your body feels boneless but somehow Jeonghan manages to guide you over to your shared bed, laying you flat on the soft bedding and placing a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sure you don’t want a bath?” He says, laying beside you.

You laugh, and then you remember that you really will have to clean up before you go to sleep, which means you’ll need to clean the tub too, and you’ll have to go to bed late. You sigh realising the wonderful, relaxed spell you were under is now broken.

“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan asks.

“Oh, nothing,” You shrug, sitting up again to go to the bathroom. “Just thinking about work.”

You’re about to leave when Jeonghan grabs onto your arm and pulls you flat against the bed, crawling over your sprawled body.

“You’re still focused on that?” He tuts. “Guess we’re not done here yet.” His fingers enter inside your sopping pussy again and the sensation makes you gasp and reach for his wrist.

“Jeonghan I already came twice, I can’t take any more!”

“Oh yes you can,” He says, pistoning right into your G-spot. “And you will. You’re taking everything I give you tonight Y/n. And I guarantee you, you’re gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

[leavingsunsets]

Helllloo!!

I would like to request a senkuu x reader if possible! (Preferably some angst + romance but anything works!) Been looking for some inspiration and I love your work!

Also hopefully you're okay if I draw some of your work too

Thank youuuu!! (>u<)/

im okay with you drawing my work! saw some of ur art, and wow! glad ur a fan tehee :33 i see you've given me an angst plot, with romance? yes i will definitely fulfill this. i waaaassss ssupposed to make this action filled with scene wit reader dying in battle of treasure island arc and senku going "WHAT" and head in hands and sobbing and the gang has to go back to the mainland hat on stomach like ":(" but exams and research defense finished and i also jus watched cute little vid of an old couple so this is jussttt hmmm a softer angst set between events ig

"ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ."

[ꜱᴇɴᴋᴜ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

It wasn't really a secret. You didn't even try, honestly.

Since the first of times of where you'd glimpsed his face at school, to the latest catch of him swirling fluid in a beaker, you've always been confident in your feelings.

Albeit a bit clumsy in your attempts, you were honest, never mincing them, never embarrassed.

"Senku, I really really like you!"

"Yeah, okay, could you pass me that screwdriver?" he says, both of you 6 years old in his room, as he gestures to the tool beside you.

"Senku, I want to date you. I heard Aimi had a boyfriend recently and I was thinking-" your voice goes interrupted as the loud sound of Senku's machinery overpower yours. 13 years old, another one of his favorite past times.

"Senku, if we were both nobles in medieval fantasy and I had to marry someone in order to get a persistent suitor off my back, I'd go to you. Offer a contract with an eventual divorce, but then we fall in love in a slow burn romance and start rethinking about our agreement."

"Can you- just- HELP ME, DAMN IT." Senku heaves, 16 years old, face turning red as he struggles to hold the boxes of equipment you came to help him with.

All these confessions, all these words, even before everything changed. The clatter of a can hitting the ground.

...

In this new life, surely, you know, Senku's had an absolute goal for this world. To rebuilt it as it was, from his own two hands. In your own way, you've had to learn how to pace your feelings.

Instead of words, as you always did, you decided to translate your affections into a language that matters most in a time like this.

Actions.

For every problem, every step he takes, you take with him. Express your thoughts, concerns, ideas. Any progress, you're there to celebrate with, any process, you're there to assist.

Declarations of love aren't so frequent, though you do like to sneak it in rarely. Announcing it in bursts of passion at the top of your lungs. Quite an antic you do, much to his embarrassment. It's become a well known fact, and often a joke between company.

Though, sometimes you wonder if it's what makes him doubt it. Your overt confessions, cheesy poems and bustling energy that could rival Taiju's. Was it too clumsy? Too obvious that he feels it's an exaggerated farce for show?

To this, you whisper gingerly in the dead of night, in the earliest of mornings,

"Senku. I really really like you."

In the times of uneventful hours, peacefulness in comfortable silence,

"Senku,"

You know, of course you do, of all people.

No one knows him more than you and that fact would've made you happy of such a thing if it couldn't break your heart more. The love of your life, saying everything said in a language that matters most in this time.

An unreadable glance. When the sun beams down brightly and you stare at him lovingly like he's hung the stars in the sky.

Winter strikes mercilessly, days are rough, tensions are high. When everything's all good and done, a bold pinkie inches towards his own. He doesn't pull away, but his hand moves back just as further.

Late at night, behind the tree he leans upon, watching, just watching. His ruby eyes enraptured by the night's celestial pearl.

Gaze too high, to see you.

You close your eyes.

You don't think you can ever stop loving him, despite that. That man doesn't like dragging things out, so you're sure a rejection is soon to come. Whether you approach first or not.

Why he doesn't do it sooner? You know why. As much as he doesn't reciprocate, you know how hesitant he is when it comes to close relationships such as you. Is he scared of breaking your friendship?

It's not the warmth you're looking for, but it's the warmth you can get. Even so, you would never expect him to return just as much as you've given. You love him for him, and not for anything else.

Tragic, how terribly you do.

Maybe one day, you'll learn to forget, to move your heart from where it isn't supposed to be. Maybe one day, you would stop gazing at him with something much more than fondness, waiting for his eyes to find its way back to you.

But until then,

"-I love you."

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 14

I'm thinking about writing an epilogue/sequel to this because after reading the ending, I feel like I've cheated you out of something special, but the story feels like it should have ended after the rut. So let me know in the comments if you would like see the bonding and birth of their first child.

First of two chapters being posted today.

The after party. Tommy makes an appearance and Chrissy comes to rescue...well so do everyone in Stevie's corner, but especially her.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

****

The after party was buzzing with the who’s who of the industry. Producers and artists mingled with label execs and the best escorts Starcourt had to offer.

Steve had been invited to a couple of these in his time and always had fun.

Eddie was talking to this beautiful actress in a long purple and black gown. She had song on the soundtrack of her latest movie, surprising a lot of people with her vocal talents in addition to her acting.

Steve gulped down a bit of champagne to chase the bile of jealousy that he had forced back down.

“Well if it isn’t, Steve Harrington,” a cool voice said behind him.

Steve schooled his expression and turned around.

There was Tommy Hagan.

It had been a lovely couple of months where they hadn’t run into each at an event at all.

Steve smiled. “Hey, Tommy, you working a client or just the room tonight?”

When Starcourt supplied omegas to after parties like this one, they were allowed to network to get new clients. So not only were they paid well, they could bring in even more money by picking up new clients.

“He doesn’t love you, you know,” Tommy sneered. “This is all stunt to take the attention off of the fact that he fucked up with two omegas and nearly caused a scandal for the label both times.”

Steve knew that was the reason for the ‘fake dating’ contract. It was his business to know. “What’s the matter, Tommy? Upset that I get to fuck your favorite rockstar? You must have been so livid when you found out that I got invited to their charity gala and you didn’t.”

“You think you’re so special getting a million dollar cherry pop price,” Tommy snapped. “But that just means that you had to stay longer to pay it off, stupid.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, and I made that my first year. I didn’t have to stay, but I know my worth, sweetie. And it is a hell of a lot more than a million dollars.”

“You’ve got your claws in him now,” Tommy hissed, “but he’ll figure out that you’re as shallow as your intelligence.”

Steve flushed and Tommy smirked, knowing he hit the mark. The one thing that Steve was always worried about and that was coming across as the dumb bunny.

“I’m not stupid,” he whispered harshly. “Just because I haven’t gone to fancy schools doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Tommy laughed cruelly. “Look around you, Steve. This is all you’ll ever have. All you’ll know. You’re only worth is what’s between your legs, not what’s between your ears.”

Tears stung at the corner of Steve’s eyes.

Then there was a warm arm that slid around his waist and Steve leaned into the embrace.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Much better now that you’re here,” Steve whispered back, nuzzling the under side of his throat.

“Stevie and I were just having a little chat,” Tommy said all false smiles, “weren’t we?”

Steve pressed further into Eddie’s side.

Eddie scoffed. “I heard what you were saying, it’s why I came over.”

Tommy blanched. “What?”

“And I did not like what you said at all.” He kissed Steve soundly on the lips. “Troy and Robin are waiting for you, babe. They’ll take you somewhere where you can calm down and I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

Steve nodded and went right into the waiting arms of Robin, Troy covering Steve from behind so no one could see how upset he was.

“You’re Tommy Hagan, right?” Eddie asked, low and menacing.

Tommy nodded.

“I’ve been hearing about your supposed rivalry with Steve from a couple different people tonight.” Eddie’s tone grew even darker.

Tommy opened his mouth, but Eddie held up his hand to stop him, “And no, Steve was not one of them. From other handlers and escorts. From what I could gather, you’re pissed because he rose to the top of the company faster than you did. He’s prettier, more charming, and better at his job.”

“Think whatever you like,” Tommy scoffed. But the red flush to his cheeks belied his statement.

“And now he’s dating the lead singer of your favorite band and you are just eaten up with envy and jealousy,” Eddie continued. “So you decided to go after Steve’s intelligence knowing it was a soft spot for him. But there are different kinds of intelligence and Steve’s is all emotional. And that’s what makes him brilliant at what he does.”

“Still makes him as dumb as a rock,” Tommy hissed.

Eddie just shook his head. “I’m making a complaint against you with the agency. This is really bad behavior for a Starcourt omega and doesn’t reflect well on them.”

Then Tommy really did pale. All color drained from his face, leaving his freckles more pronounced in the absence of color on his cheeks.

Eddie just shook his head and went in search of Steve.

Troy spotted him first and waved him over to a small alcove where Robin was rubbing Steve’s back as he struggled to calm down.

Eddie knelt in front of him and began rubbing his arms. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you need to leave?”

Steve took in a deep shuddering breath and held in his a moment. “No. Tommy is an ass but I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Eddie murmured, caressing Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “With the horrible questions, the sexist alpha, and now this asshole. You admit it affected you and we can go home.”

Steve’s lip quivered. “But what about you, don’t you have to be here?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said, cupping his cheeks, “I have been here. I could duck out. The rest of the band is still here as well as Benny and our producer Alexi. They could hold court if you really needed us to go right now.”

“Tommy’s already been reported to management,” Troy said, cradling his ear. “They still want Eddie to make a formal complaint, but they’re pulling Tommy out and replacing him with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Robin nodded. “Elinor and a couple other omegas who were here with actual clients had run afoul of him as well.”

Steve raised his head. “Wait, really? He’s pissed that he was only here to work the room as opposed to being with a client? Is he stupid?”

Troy raised his hand and rocked his fingers back and forth. “The jury is still out on that one.”

Eddie looked back between Troy and Steve in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“It depends on the client,” Steve said, “but an escort can make $1000-5000 a night. But working a room, you’re paid an five grand plus the chance to pick up future clients. Alphas that aren’t there with anyone who might have an event coming up that would be improved by having an escort. Maybe their rut is coming up soon. Working a room can net an escort closer to ten to fifteen grand.”

Eddie blinked. “Holy shit. Now, I’m wondering how he could be so stupid.”

“I could answer that,” a warm female voice said behind them.

Steve looked up and grinned. “Chrissy!”

Eddie stood up and turned around to see one of the prettiest female omegas he ever seen. Her strawberry blonde hair was artfully pulled back in a wavy bun, highlighting her green eyes and dazzling smile. She wore a pink mermaid tail dress that had feathers on her hips and on the train. She held a matching clutch.

She gave Steve a hug. “I’m sorry Tommy was an douchebag tonight, cher. But I’m here now.”

Steve relaxed, the last bit of tension bleeding from his frame with her casual support.

“So why would d-bag want a client over working the room if the gains are greater working the room?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

He had changed, too. The tuxedo pants had been replaced by leather ones, and he wore a band tee under a leather jacket. His knee high boots gave him a little extra height on Steve even in his own heels.

Chrissy smiled up at him. “Because if you’re working the room, that means you weren’t good enough to get a client going to the Grammy’s. It’s about the prestige of being with a big name artist. And that clout can’t be bought. Steve here is going to get more requests being at Eddie’s side, then I will from working the room.”

Robin snorted. “Only because Steve’s that hot.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. He really did have the best of friends.

Chrissy giggled. “There’s a little bit to that, sure. But the salient point is that Tommy is jealous because he knows that even with Eddie courting Steve, Steve is going to make a hell of a lot more money than Tommy could hope to dream of in just this year.”

“He was trying to upset the escorts on jobs so that they would leave,” Troy said, “which would free up the clients for those only working the room.”

Steve and Chrissy gave Troy an appraising eyebrow, impressed.

“Sounds about right,” Steve said. “Which means leaving would be giving in to his schemes. Plus, Chrissy is here now. That makes the party way more fun.”

Eddie held out his hand and helped Steve to his feet. “Whatever you want, princess. I am but yours to command.”

Steve wagged his eyebrows. “Something I’ll consider for tonight.”

Robin and Chrissy wolf whistled.

Troy just shook his head. With Robin in tow, Troy melded back into the crowds to keep an eye on Steve from a distance.

Chrissy was introduced to the band. Jeff was immediately smitten by her charms.

He was falling over his feet to impress her.

“Jeffy here writes our music,” Eddie told her and Steve. “I write the lyrics and he turns them into songs. Really I have the easy part. He does all the heavy lifting.”

Gareth, immediately picking up on where Eddie was going with this followed that up with, “Yeah. Which considering he boxes to stay in shape it’s really easy for him.”

“You box?” Chrissy asked, all interest. “Do you actually get in the ring or do you just go up against punching bags to prevent ruining the prettiest face of the band?”

Steve hissed at her, “You take that back! Eddie is the hottest member of the band.”

“Hottest guitarist, maybe,” Elinor huffed. “Hottest member is clearly Gareth.”

The three alphas were starting to growl when Brian stepped in. “Guys, guys. You’re all very pretty. The prettiest. Now can we move on?”

Just when everyone had calmed down, he said, “Besides we all know the best looking one in the band is me!”

His friends dogpiled him and wrestled him to the ground.

Chrissy leaned over to Steve as the four of the tussled. “Do they do this often?”

Steve just shrugged. He hadn’t had the chance to hang out with band yet.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “They are like this all the time. In a minute or so, they’ll get tired, give up and move on like nothing has happened. They’ll straighten their clothes and hair, all the better for it.”

Sure enough they did just that.

Brian looked the worst for wear considering he had been the one under attack, but nothing was torn or out of place and quite quickly they were looking like nothing had happened.

“I love these dorks,” Eddie murmured. “So, so much.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “That’s good, because I think you’re stuck with them, being in a band and all.”

Jeff giggled. “Is he stuck in here with us, or are we stuck in here with him?”

Steve tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Oh, definitely the latter.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested.

Gareth shook his head. “No, no. I’m with Steve on this one. We are definitely stuck in here with you.”

“Traitors,” he muttered darkly.

Steve nuzzled his scent gland and Eddie’s alpha purred. It took every ounce of Steve’s professionalism he had to keep the replying chirp quiet enough that only Eddie could hear.

Eddie grinned. “Just let me make the rounds one more time and then you and I will get out of here.”

Steve nodded and then watched him go. He grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed in one gulp.

Chrissy’s eyes went wide and she slipped her arm through his and murmured, “Come on, cher. Let’s talk, you look like you need it.”

Steve nodded and followed her outside to get some fresh air. Once there he told her all about his night and not just the Tommy fuckery.

“I was standing there already feeling jealous about the gorgeous female omega actress that he was talking to and then Tommy came in and poked at my other biggest insecurity and I just crumpled...”

Chrissy put her arm around his shoulder and laid her head on his chest.

“You’re going to have to decide if that side of his job is going to be worth it, because if you’re freaking out over him just talking to an actress,” she said gently, “how are you going to fare when he goes on tour?”

Steve sighed. It was one of the reasons that Neil never requested to court him. Being on tour all the time, the constantly being away from Steve who was very much of fixture of LA.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But he stirs something inside me that I have never felt before and it’s addicting. It feels like flying and I worry that I’ll fly too close to the sun and fall.”

“Soar anyway, Steve,” she advised him. “It’s scary and it’s new. But soar anyway. You deserve a chance at happiness, just be sure to tell Eddie when you feel this way. Because he’s not a mind reader. He can’t see what’s happening behind his back.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Eddie was told Tommy was harassing you,” Chrissy said. She held up her hand before Steve could say anything. “Now before you get all in your head thinking that he had to be told to come to your rescue, we both know that’s not true. But he had to be told you were in danger. Because it was happening where he couldn’t see. So you have to tell him when you’re feeling left out or jealous, because if it’s happening where he can’t see, he can’t fix it.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had been more honest about the actress, Eddie would have already been by my side and maybe Tommy would have still approached or not, but probably not.”

She nodded. She turned around and saw Eddie looking for Steve. She spun Steve around and pushed him toward Eddie.

“Now go get your man.”

Steve stumbled into the venue and began moving quickly so he could reach Eddie faster.

Suddenly Eddie had an armful of soft omega.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Take me home, Eds.”

****

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

The confrontation with Tommy had been stewing in my head since I first starting writing the story, originally it was going to be with the Nancy and Billy at New Yorker party but there was already too much going on in that chapter so it got moved here.

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@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

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@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

[star-anise]

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Toji Fushiguro coming back to life to save (y/n) in Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.ll

Pt. l with Gojo and Geto are here

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Notes: Literally no one asked for this, I had to do this for myself after the latest episode okay. Loots of grief, hurt and language. Enjoy

„Hey, it’s been a while“, you mumble to yourself, mindlessly dropping a bouquet of flowers onto the stone in front of you.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

It’s been more than 10 years to be exact. Ten years of working as an assassin, ten years of roaming around without an aim.

Ten years since losing him.

Back then, you never admitted to anyone how you felt about him, how his sight alone made your body do crazy things and lightened up your cloudy mood. He was never a man that was easy to love, let alone very emotional. When it comes to women, Toji probably was the worst man walking on this earth.

But oh how much you loved him. How much you adored the little smile he wore on his face when he teased you, how much you longed for his arms that wrapped themselves around you when nobody was watching, how much you miss his hands roaming all over your body while he fucked you brainless each and every night, screaming out his name like a prayer.

Losing him was the most unbearable pain you’ve ever felt, an event that made you forget your belief in love forever. He was never yours, but losing him shattered your fucking heart. Since he’s gone, you never let another man touch you again, living from alcohol, cigarettes and assignments.

And this.

You visited Toji’s grave whenever you felt enough courage to do so without breaking down. Day after day, week after week, year after year. Always with the same empty feeling that occupies your mind, the what ifs that plague your tired heart whenever you think of him.

Beep beep beep.

Who the hell is calling you right now?

“I’m busy doing nothing”, you bark into your phone.

“(y/n), just wanted to let you know that something’s going on in Shibuya. Rumor has it that that Gojo boy was sealed.”

“Impossible”, you breathe out, almost dropping your phone.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the fucker that killed Toji all these years ago, is gone? Your heart bangs against your chest, mind unable to comprehend the words. This is your chance. The chance to seek revenge, to kill everyone he cares for in one place without resistance.

Everyone expect him.

“I don’t know how this will go. My kid, Megumi. If something happens, keep an eye on him for me, will ya?”

You promised. Despite the fact that you pushed Toji’s past away as far as you could, you have to keep an eye on his son when Gojo isn’t around anymore.

“I thought so too, but seems like that’s a fact.”

“Do we know anything else? Some dirty details?”

“Not really, but someone pretty strong has to be there if that person was able to seal that fucker, don’t you think?”

“Yeah”, you mumble.

“I will take a look at this myself.”

Without waiting for a reply, you hang up and start walking.

This is your chance. After all this years of suffering, regretting, anger and agony, you’ll finally get your revenge. You will show them what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer did to you by taking your love away, by destroying your life so violently that there’s no more happiness left. You will give him a taste of his own medicine.

If Gojo Satoru ever sees the light of day again, all of his beloved ones will be dead. You will make sure of that.

-at Shibuya-

“Jujutsu sorcerers and their fucking curtains”, you mutter to yourself while effortlessly walking through the barrier.

How pathetic to think that curses and other jujutsu sorcerers are their only enemies. After all, Toji was almost able to defeat the strongest of them with nothing but his own rough hands.

Almost. How much you hated that word. He was almost able to defeat Gojo, he was almost able to survive that battle, he almost made it home to you.

But he never did. And that’s why you’re here, standing on top of a tall building while scanning the area around you. A few seconds later, loud bangs can be heard from a stress a few miles away. You spring into action immediately, gliding over the buildings with your harness so effortlessly that even a trained eye wouldn’t detect you. In their world, you are invisible, nothing more than a shadow without jujutsu.

And that’s their weakness.

You stop on a house corner, immediately caught by the sight of none other than Megumi Fushiguro in front of you along with another boy and an old fart. Your heart clenches painfully at the way his cold eyes stare at the old man, his facial features taking you back in time. Oh, he looks so much like his father.

So much that you want to go back home and swallow a bottle of vodka to get his face off your mind. But no, you’re on a mission, you have to make sure that kid is alright and kill all of his friends. You’ve got a job to do, get a hold of yourself.

With skilled eyes, you judge how he moves, how he acts, how he fights. Well, he might not be the best fighter you have seen yet, but he sure has some potential. Together with his little friend, he should be able to defeat that old fart. If not, you’ll come back later.

While you swore on keeping an eye open for him, you’re reluctant to meet Megumi and somehow don’t want him to find out that you’re after his friends and sensei. So you tear your gaze away from him, aiming for the skyscraper in front of you where another fight takes place. Whoever this is will be the first victim of your killing streak.

You will make every single one of these bastards pay for what Gojo did. You will make them feel the way you felt after his decease.

Over.

And over.

Again.

It isn’t hard for you to get up Shibuya tower in the matter of seconds, the harsh winds waving through your hair. Your heart pounds, eyes darting around the area.

Three people, two men are fighting while an old lady sits on the ground.

“And who of you belongs to that Gojo fucker?”, you mumble, gripping both of your katana’s tightly.

This is the moment. After Gojo is sealed, this is your opportunity to finally seek revenge, to kill every single one of them. When this fucker returns, he’ll be alone.

Just like you are since he killed Toji.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get lost”, the old woman hisses.

You stare at the broad back of the man who hits the other without mercy. Damn, that speed, that precision. It’s like back then. His fine technique almost makes him look like…

Toji.

Automatically, your feet carry you forward. You swing yourself in the air, feet ready to kick the broad man into his chest.

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”, you shout.

His eyes dart towards you.

He grabs your ankle.

All you can do is stare at him, mind going completely blank.

His face. This gorgeous face you adored so much. The little scar that emphasized the corner of his delicious mouth so well. His collarbone that creeps through the sweater he’s wearing. No, there’s no doubt. The man standing in front of you is Toji.

“Get out of the way, woman.”

Toji’s frame slams your body against the ground merciless. You see stars, lungs refusing their service as all you can do is stare in horror at the shell of the man you used to love, glimmer of hope nipped in the bud.

This isn’t his voice. This isn’t his smile.

This just isn’t Toji.

You hate the way your eyes start to water as he grabs your throat and yanks you upwards.

“You are not Toji. How dare you to use his body like that”, you cough out.

Instead of replying, he just smiles at you so heartlessly that you feel like throwing up. No, this simply can’t be Toji. This is the empty shell of the man you’ve lost. Feelings flood your heart uncontrollably. Anger, grief and most of all disappointment haunting and bringing you to your knees. God, how much you wished it was true. For the split of a second, you really thought this was him. Your Toji, the man you haven’t forgot after all these years, the only one you ever sacrificed your heart to.

But he’s gone. And he won’t come back.

“There needs to be a corpse for shapeshifting. Dumb girl, of course this isn’t Toji Zen’in. But you will die through his hands.”

Your body refuses to move. All you can do is watch as he throws the body of the other man down, off the tower, into certain death.

Fuck. Is this really how it ends?

“Y’know, you’re actually not that bad.”

“I hope so, jackass. Otherwise I’ll throw you out.”

“C’mon princess, don’t be like that. Y’know I’m obsessed with you.”

“Oh yeah? Might need to hear that again…”

“I’d rather show you.”

Like in slow-motion, his frame casually walks back and comes to a stand next to the old woman. Every limb of your body screams out in pain, lungs feeling like they’ll rip apart any minute. So this is the force of Toji Fushiguro.

It could be funny, actually. You always thought Toji is the strongest man on this earth, admired him for his sheer strength despite not being a jujutsu sorcerer. But when he was with you, his deadly touch became gentle, caressing you with what felt like…love.

Did he really love you? Who knows. But you did. Oh, how much you loved that man – the man whose back is now faced towards you, muscles tight by the thought of killing you with his bare hands.

Is there anything more ironic than getting killed by Toji Fushiguro?

“I would rather die through his hands than living like this until I’m as old and ugly as you.”

“Grandson.”

“I know, granny.”

He turns around. The shell of the man you thought about every night before drifting off to sleep, the man that is the only one you ever dedicated your heart to. That oh so rough face that felt so gentle against your fingertips. How much you’d give to talk to him one last time, to let him know how you really feel.

With a swift motion, he grabs your throat again, feet hanging in the air as you feel like life is slowly drifting away from you. Before your blurry vision threatens to eat you alive, he slams your already weak body into the floor, blood spurting in every direction.

Nothing but darkness and this foreign far away voice that speaks out of his body.

“That should be enough.”

Your fingers twitch. Is this the end? His footsteps echo through your brain.

“Granny, wh-wh-wh-wh-what do whe do now?”

“It won’t hurt to keep Satoru Gojo out of play. So go down below and kill sorcerers.”

…

“Grandson?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re ordering around, old hag? And how dare you to hurt ma princess?”

That voice…You must be hallucinating. It sounds just like him, just like you remember it. That deep unpromising vibration that made you go crazy more than once.

A shriek, a dull fall, silence. Footsteps that are approaching you again. Heavy, confident steps.

“I thought you can take more than that, princess.”

Hands grab your shoulders gently, lifting your bruised and weak body out of the dirt. You force yourself to open your heavy eyelids, mind still trying to process what is happening.

You stare right into his ocean blue eyes.

“Missed me?”

Your shaky breath rings in your ears, trembling hands searching for hold on his shoulders.  

“Toji?”

Nothing more than a fade whisper in the night, a faint hope resonates.

“You’re still looking hot.”

Tears swell up your eyes before you can catch yourself while you wrap your aching arms around him for dear life. This has to be a dream, some cruel technique, a hallucination. But you don’t give a fuck. At the moment, all you can think about is how he wraps his large arms around your waist and back while holding the back of your head and the way he smells.

God, he smells just like you remember, just like the Toji you knew.

“Please tell me you’re back. Tell me this isn’t just a cruel dream. I don’t want to wake up anymore….”

“Live and in color. It’s been a while”, he comments.

Your eyes dart towards him and his sly grin. The grin you know all too well, the grin you adored more than anything else in the world.

“I missed you every single fucking day. And now…And now you’re standing in front of me. Alive”, you stammer.

“These fuckers thought they could use my powers against you. Ain’t no way  I’d let this happen princess. Even if it means going to hell and back to be with you.”

Your fingers trace over his cheeks, his collarbones, his broad chest.

“It’s me, (y/n)”, he confirms your unspoken question.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? Missed ya too. And can’t wait to show you how much. But work comes first and I still have a lot of shit to do.”

“I came here to take revenge, to kill all of Gojo’s little puppies for what he did to you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“What a good girl you are, I always loved ya for that. Let’s get you out of here first. I’ll be back in a few hours, ‘kay?”

Toji…Loves you? Your hands dig into his firm biceps, eyes piercing right through him for any sign of sarcasm, any sign of manipulation.

But no, it’s clear. The man in front of you is indeed Toji Fushiguro. And he told you that he loves you.

He’s back and he loves you.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much! Living without you was hell”, you cry out, completely breaking down in tears while he holds you in his arms.

“I know princess, I know… Will catch up on everything, I promise. Let’s get you outta here. So sorry for hurting you like that.”

He picks you up in his arms while you allow yourself to close your eyes and lean your face against his chest. This might be a manipulation, a dream and nothing more. But you never thought you’d get him back. Fuck, after more than 10 years you’re really back in his arms.

Screw if this isn’t real. For this precious moment, you finally feel home again.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Disarmed | Bucky Barnes x Reader

After the events of the GOTG holiday special, I think we all know where this came from and where it's going...

I have not been able to stop thinking about how this actually went down for Bucky. And it makes me sad.

Warnings: violence, injuries, pain, blood, Bucky's arm, home invasion

No answer followed your knocking. Just silence. No movement from inside the apartment. 

Another round of knocks echoed through the quiet hall. Again, silence. 

“Buck? It’s me…”

You leaned against the door, listening for any sign of life. And finally, soft steps made their way in your direction. A deep sigh came from behind the wood. 

Checking in on Bucky like this always made you feel like a bit of a bother. You never wanted to irritate him or make him feel like a child. But you liked knowing he was alright. And he never seemed to mind. He even welcomed your unannounced drop-ins. Bucky liked knowing that someone- anyone- cared about him. He just couldn’t believe you, of all people, were that ‘someone’. 

The metallic rattling sound of Bucky undoing his door’s chain brought a smile to your face. Sure, he’d gone radio silent. He’d ignored your texts and calls all day and skipped out on your lunch plans. But he had a lot on his plate. And even as he worked through his issues and eliminated some of his mental load, more problems often materialized out of nowhere. And so, you granted him grace. You didn’t chastise him or nag him for drawing in on himself. He was doing his very best, and you only wanted to help.

Bucky tentatively pulled open the door a sliver, granting you a view of only half his body. He looked tired, dejected. But he smiled when he saw you- he couldn’t help it. “Hey, doll…” 

“Hey, I was-” You noticed a large scrape running the length of his arm, a bruise resting below his eye. “Woah- what happened? I just saw you yesterday…” Anxiety flooded your system- he was okay less than twenty-four hours ago. How did this happen? And when? 

The day before, Bucky spent his afternoon and most of his evening at your place. The two of you watched movies together and ordered take out. It was, by all definitions, a perfect day.

And you were no stranger to Bucky’s injuries. He always came home from missions looking worse for wear- but he was supposed to be safe here. He didn’t just return from a long stint at a Hydra base or a fight with the flag smashers. He was home. And he wasn’t supposed to get hurt.

A deep sigh deflated Bucky’s chest and pulled his head down. And you realized why he flaked on your plans. But the issue presented a double-edged sword. He knew that by telling you he was hurt would only serve to make you worry about his latest injuries that seemed to materialize overnight. But leaving you in the dark didn’t save you- only delayed the inevitable. In the end, he defaulted to his factory setting. He withdrew and fell silent, deciding to deal on his own.

But that couldn’t stop you. 

Finally, he dragged his gaze up to yours. A few broken blood vessels shot red webs through the whites of his eyes. He looked broken. “Um, could you-” He rephrased, “do you want to come in?” He didn’t like asking you for things. Ever. Though he knew you’d do anything for him, he didn’t like how it felt. He always said it seemed like he was taking advantage of your kindness- which you told him was impossible.

Without hesitation, you nodded. He opened the door and allowed you entrance, immediately locking it behind you. He turned the deadbolt and secured the chain before resting his forehead against the wood. And as he rested there, he gave you a view of his back. Clearly, something violent happened in the eighteen hours since you’d last seen him.  

Large bruises streaked his skin. The deep purples and blues accompanied red gashes and scrapes littering his shoulders. Dried blood lay under his nails. A wince accompanied every inhale. 

“Buck, I don’t understand- what happened to you?” 

He took one last moment to himself before facing you. And as he turned, you saw it: a brutal wound splashed across his chest. Its maroons and crimsons radiated from a central, bloody point, splaying outward. The skin looked raw, torched. Painful. It leaked blood with every movement, every breath. You’d never seen anything like it. 

But as severe as the wound on his chest was, something else caught your eye. Or, the lack of thereof.

“Wait. Where’s…” you scanned the room but came up empty. “Where’s your arm?”

Bucky wasn’t comfortable without it, not yet. And though it wasn’t his favorite part of the body he called his, it at least provided a sense of security. His arm was strong, fast. It could protect him when danger came calling. And so, he tolerated it for the purpose it served. Never once had he taken it off- not since T’Challa and Shuri presented it to him. And yet, he stood before you, his vibranium arm missing. 

“Someone, um…” His eyes took on a far away, hollow quality. “Someone broke in last night.”

You were on him in seconds, “What?”

Everything in you wanted to hold him close, but the angry wound on his chest said otherwise. And so, you opted to hold his hand. 

“I guess ‘broke in’ is the wrong phrase,” he said. “The door- it was still locked. I don’t know how they got in. But they did.” He looked sad. Scared. Confused. He didn’t deserve to feel this way- especially not in his own home. Each shaky breath pushed more blood from his wound, sending red streaks dripping down his body.

“Shit, Buck. You’re really bleeding-”

Bucky stared down at the bloodbath spilling from his chest. Something about the way he regarded his wound was too casual, too nonchalant. “Yeah. It’s been doing that.” He seemed almost distracted, like he was too caught up in the previous night’s events to really notice his injury.

“Okay, can I- let’s get this cleaned up, alright?” 

Bucky gave a small shake of his head, “That’s okay, doll. You don’t have to.”

“Hey,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “Let me take care of you.”

With Bucky’s permission, you led him down the hall to the bathroom. Never once did his hand leave yours. If anything, he tightened his grip as the seconds passed. He was desperate for you- for the one person he felt safe with. He wondered how you always knew when he needed you- how you always knew what he needed. 

But more often, he wondered why you helped him. Why you did so much for him. Why you treated him with such kindness. He sometimes got it in his mind to ask why you did the things you did- but he knew better than to make you question it. He feared that, if you thought about it too long, you’d realize you didn’t want to be around him anymore. And while he wanted to free you of his burden, he’d miss you too much to let you go.

He took a seat on the edge of the tub like you asked and watched you unearth the first aid kit from under his sink. It was the same kit you put together and made him promise to hang on to. It had everything he’d need to tend to his wounds if you were ever unavailable. But thus far, you always found a way to be there, to take care of him. 

He often felt like he was using you. Like you did so much for him without asking for anything in return. Every time you stitched him up or stopped him from bleeding out, guilt seeped into his bones. But you assured him, time and time again, that you helped him because you wanted to. Because you cared. Because you’d rather die than let him think he was alone. 

“Jesus. Is this…” You carefully examined the injury to Bucky’s chest, “is this a burn?”

Bucky shrugged, but the motion only brought him more pain. “I’m not sure. The whole thing was… weird.”

With gentle hands, you cleaned the blood from his skin. He winced with each swipe of gauze. And while you held pressure to the spot that refused to stop bleeding, you asked for details.

Bucky’s jaw tensed. “Everything was normal. I double checked that the door was locked. I texted you goodnight. I went to bed.” He traveled back to the night before, recalling the strange events as they unfolded. “The sound of footsteps woke me up. I thought it was my neighbor coming home from the bar again. But the sound was outside my bedroom door- right outside my bedroom door. And then someone was in my room. I saw their silhouette standing over my bed.”

Your heart began to race as though it were happening in real time. “Who was it? Did you recognize them?”

He shook his head. “Whoever it was- they were fast. Strong. I don’t think…” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “I don’t think they were human. Or at least, all human. I don’t think they were from earth at all. I mean, the weapon they had it was… I don’t know. I’d never seen anything like it before.” He relived the blast that struck his chest, the sizzling, searing agony that burned through him. 

“Shit…” Knowing how scared he must’ve been made you nauseous. But you did your very best to keep your hands from shaking. “Did they- did they say what they wanted?”

Again, he shook his head. “They didn’t say why they were here- nothing about it made any sense, really. They didn’t threaten me. It didn’t even… it didn’t seem like they wanted me dead.”

You thanked the universe that Bucky’s assailant hadn’t come for his life. If you’d dropped by his apartment to find him cold and still, you would’ve joined him in the afterlife.

As you examined his wound once again, Bucky thought back on everyone he’d ever hurt, everyone he’d ever killed. He knew many of his victims didn’t deserve to die. He knew they had families and friends who wanted revenge. If anyone ever came for him, he assumed it would be a vengeful loved one out for his head. But this was different. 

“They didn’t seem like they wanted to kill me,” he said after a while. “They didn’t even really try to kill me.”

“Then what’s all this about?” you asked, motioning toward the massive wound on his chest.

“I mean… they could’ve shot me in the head.”

You cringed at the thought. Only a few hours ago, Bucky could’ve so easily been taken from you. And you wouldn’t have even known he was in danger. 

“The entire time we were fighting, they were going for my arm.” He shuddered. “I think they got fed up after a while- that’s when they shot me. Almost like they didn’t want to hurt me but had no choice. And while I was on the ground, writhing in pain, they tore it off.”

Your eyes widened, “what?”

“Like I said… whoever it was, they were strong. They didn’t disable the mechanism like Ayo- they ripped it off.”

None of it made any sense. The locked door, leaving Bucky alive, stealing his arm- it was beyond strange. And in any other circumstance, you would’ve attempted to put the pieces together. You would’ve tried to solve the puzzle. But that part didn’t matter. What mattered was Bucky. 

He lost his arm in the fall all those years ago. He bled in the snow for what felt like years, alone and scared. Hydra removed what remained of his joint without compassion and replaced it with metal. And then, when he was finally free, Tony brutally destroyed his new arm. Robbed him once again of a piece of himself. Though, part of him was happy to be free of the silver and red prosthetic designed by Hydra. He welcomed the sleek black and gold upgrade Shuri so kindly provided. 

And now, it was gone. 

He'd been through enough. His sense of self stripped away again and again. His bodily autonomy decimated. And he’d worked so hard to make progress. He was trying. He was working on himself, on healing his trauma. And just as things seemed to take a positive turn, yet another nightmare unfolded. 

With his permission, you used your free hand to assess where his arm used to be. The attachment site was still in place, but the skin around it was angry. Red. Swollen. Dried blood crusted around the metal plate. You wondered how much pain a body could take. 

“Does it hurt?”

He nodded. And your heart fell to pieces.

“What did you-” You forced yourself to stay strong, “what did you do after they um, took it?”

“I was kind of in shock…” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. Whoever it was seemed to vanish. And I,” he took a breath. “I couldn’t just go back to sleep, you know?” He sat quiet for a moment, disappearing to the previous night’s utter horror. “I didn’t feel safe after that.”

You cursed whoever did this to him. Only recently did he start successfully sleeping through the night. His nightmares dwindled and he was finally getting the rest he so desperately needed. And his assailant robbed him of that.

He shrugged, wincing once again. “I just went and sat in the living room for the rest of the night. I left the lights on… I couldn’t imagine turning them off. I knew I’d see their silhouette again.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished he’d called. You wished he’d felt comfortable enough asking for help. But that was still an uphill battle and calling in the middle of the night wasn’t something he was okay with. If you called him at three in the morning, he’d answer without hesitation. He’d never see it as a bother or a burden; if you needed him, he’d be there. But the reverse was different. He saw himself as only a burden- who was he to wake you in the middle of the night? Who was he to disturb your sleep and dump his problems on you? 

“Buck, I’m so…” you didn’t know how to make it better. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve this- you don’t deserve any of the shit that’s happened to you.”

He flashed you a sad smile and a quiet “thanks”.

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but… you know I’m always here for you-”

“Doll, I can’t-”

“I don’t care what time it is, Buck. I don’t care what I’m doing. If you need me, I’m here. End of story.”

He simply brought his hand to your cheek and swept his thumb over your skin. You were so good to him- too good to him. 

“All I ever want to do is be there for you. No matter what that means.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He sometimes didn’t know how to react to kindness, to such direct warmth. It almost made him bashful to have someone care for him so deeply.

“Um, this is finally done bleeding,” you said, pulling the gauze from his chest. “I’m gonna cover it. And then I’m gonna clean your shoulder- only if that’s okay.” The only person allowed to touch Bucky was you. And even then, getting to that point had been a long journey. Building that trust, that feeling of safety took care and thought. And you never wanted to overstep. He knew he could change his boundaries whenever he wanted, could revoke his consent without consequence. But you still reminded him every now and then, never allowing him to forget. 

“I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.” 

As carefully as you could, you covered the strange blast-injury on his chest. And when satisfied with its condition, you moved on to his shoulder. After it’s decades of abuse, this tissue required extra care. Extra gentleness. You worked slowly and cautiously, removing the blood from his scarred skin. 

An overwhelming sense of vulnerability engulfed Bucky. No one ever got this up close and personal with his marred flesh. It made him nervous. “Hey, I’m really sorry I ditched you today…” he said, distracting you from his scars. “I knew we had plans, but I wasn’t-”

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, quieting him. “Please don’t apologize. I know you’re doing your best- and you had a more than good enough reason not to meet me for chicken and waffles.”

He let a sad smile break through his downtrodden expression. “I knew this apartment was a shit hole,” he said, “but I never thought someone would break in to steal my arm. You know?”

You nodded. “I don’t think anyone could’ve expected that.”

With Bucky’s wounds cleaned and covered, you finally let your shoulders relax a bit. The tightness in your chest diminished and your muscles let go of a fraction of tension. But you still worried about him. You knew he’d never sleep again- not in this apartment, at least. His sense of security was gone. Shattered. And without his arm, you knew he’d feel vulnerable. On edge. Any sliver of peace he’d found disintegrated before his very eyes. 

You feared making him uncomfortable, but the words slipped past your lips before you had the chance to second guess yourself. “Hey… do you wanna come stay at my place?” you asked, “I know you probably aren’t looking forward to spending much time here after what happened, and-”

Bucky waved you off with an overly casual smile. “No, no, that’s okay, doll. I’m fine here.”

You gave him a stern look, “Buck, I know you. Please, just come stay with me.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek- this crossed a line. He couldn’t invade your space like that. He couldn’t infect your life with his baggage. And if he feared being a burden before, it was nothing compared to the feeling creeping into his chest. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to do that-”

“I want to,” you said. “Just come crash at my place for a while.”

He thought it over for a long, quiet moment. More than anything, he wanted to escape his apartment and seek refuge with you. Any sense of safety he’d felt in this space was gone, and he never felt safer than he did at yours. But he couldn’t impose like that, though. He couldn’t invade your privacy.

“Buck, come on. Do you wanna come stay with me?”

He nodded.

You cupped his face, “Then come! Stay long as you want.”

He opened his mouth to thank you for your kindness, but you cut him off.

“Hang on- to clarify, I’m not saying ‘stay as long as you think is appropriate or polite’. I’m saying, ‘stay as long as you want’.” You eyed him with a stern expression, “Don’t just stay one night and then come back here because you think you’re a burden. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good.” With your help, Bucky got to his feet. “Now, let’s pack you a bag and get you outta here.”

Bucky followed one pace behind you as you headed for his bedroom. He couldn’t believe he had a safety net. A kind, caring person who wanted only good things for him. He’d easily grown smitten with you only a few days after meeting you, and witnessing your capacity for compassion won him over. But truth be told, it wasn’t about the things you did for him. Or the nice things you said to him. You glowed from the inside, the warmth of your heart basking him in a comforting light. And though he’d, yet again, suffered a violation of his sense of self, he almost didn’t care. He didn’t belong to himself anymore, anyway. He belonged to you. 

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

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[stayteezdreams]

Favor

Plot: In a moment of desperation you ask Seonghwa for a favor. He is happy to oblige....suspiciously happy actually.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader

A/n: For those who don't like vague plot-lines, this is a fake dating story.

Warnings: Nothing I can think of!

Words: 2.6k

Hanging up your phone with a sigh, you leaned on the balcony railing as you dropped your head.

'I knew I shouldn't have answered that phone call.'

Your mother, as much as she did love you, had a tendency to make things very hard for you. Most of the time when she thought she was "helping." This time, her latest scheme was to find you a boyfriend, or as she called it, your future husband.

There had been times in the past when she attempted to set you up with some people here and there, none of them worked out of course. Now she was planning on introducing you to not one, but numerous men, all at the same time. Specifically at your father's companies Christmas party. An event you dreaded attending in the first place, now your mother decided to add another horror to the list of reasons you didn't want to go.

Hearing the door slide open, you looked over to see Seonghwa. You felt your heart race in the now familiar way at the sight of him.

He eyed you for a moment as he walked up to you. "Everything okay? You've been out here for a while, we were getting worried."

You sighed, "It was my mom."

He let out a soft chuckle as he leaned against the railing beside you, "I'm all ears."

After explaining everything to him he stared of into space for a moment. You could tell he was trying to think of a way to make you feel better, or even an idea of how to get out of your predicament. But what you did not see, was the burning ache of annoyance.

The idea of you being set up with guys, or even going on dates with someone pained Seonghwa. Now to hear you were going to be forced on multiple men in an attempt to find your "future husband"?? His chest tightened at the thought.

"Can you just, not go?"

You scoffed softly, "I have to, if I don't my dad will hold it against me forever and will make me regret it in some way or another."

"Why is your mother so insistent on setting you up anyways?"

"She's afraid I'll die alone I guess." You chuckled softly before letting out a sigh. "God, I really don't think I can deal with it, I know she as no idea what kind of guy I actually like, who knows what these guys are like."

He smiled in pity as he watched you, "I'm sorry, I wish I could help."

'If only I could go with you...'

You looked over at him as a sudden thought popped into your head. If Seonghwa came with you as a date, would your mother give up? The idea made your heart flutter.

Seonghwa saw something light up your eyes for a second and he smiled, "What?"

Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed by the thought you shook your head, "Nothing, I just had a stupid thought."

"What kind of stupid thought?" He asked, leaning a bit closer to pressure to to tell him, as he hoped you had thought of the same thing he did.

You twiddled your thumbs for a moment as you considered asking, or at least suggesting it. Glancing over at him he smiled softly, waiting for you to give in.

You turned slightly towards him, "What if... you did me a giant favor?"

He felt his heart skip a beat as anticipation built. "It depends on the favor."

"Well...if I went to the party with a date, my mom might not bother introducing me to anyone."

Seonghwa clenched his jaw as he repressed a grin. He looked out at the view and hummed, "That might work."

You watching him in anticipation before he caught your pleading eyes and let out a soft laugh. "Okay."

"Okay?!"

"But-! You'll owe me."

You nodded in agreement and he chuckled, still repressing the excitement of his own as he thought of going with you as your date.

Looking in at the party ahead of you, you let out a deep breath. Seonghwa watched you with a soft smile as he leaned closer "Relax, it's gonna be fine, you look great."

You let out a soft laugh as you met his eyes, "How I look has nothing to do with why I'm nervous, but thank you."

He grinned at you as he pulled you gently, encouraging you to walk further into the room with him. The large room was lit up by a bright Christmas tree in the middle of the room. Every table was decorated with garland with red and gold ornaments. Covers of classic Christmas songs played from an adjacent room as you spotted people dancing together.

Everyone was dressed in formal attire, most in various Christmas themed colors. You didn't get far into the party before your parents spotted you and made their way over.

They eyed Seonghwa as you introduced him. They knew of him since you and Seonghwa had been close friends for a while, so it wasn't entirely shocking that you showed up with him.

Your father was pleased by it, while your mom was obviously suspicious, as you feared she might be when you suddenly told her you would be coming with a date.

After your mothers attempt at prying, and Seonghwa skillfully dodging any suspicion. Your father managed to shoo her way as they went to greet other acquaintances.

You and Seonghwa made your way to a corner and mingled with each other as you watched the party around you. You didn't know anyone except by mild acquaintance, and there were very few people your age in general.

"I wonder how long we can stay before my dad feels guilty enough to let me leave."

Seonghwa chuckled as he sipped at his drink and looked around. He paused as he spotted your mother watching the two of you closely.

He smiled to himself as he glanced over at you before he slyly stepped closer before wrapping his arm around your waist and setting his hand on your hip.

You froze as a shiver crawled up your body as you looked over at Seonghwa. "What are you doing?"

He leaned a bit closer to speak quietly, "Your mother is watching us."

You casually glanced around and saw your mother eyeing Seonghwa. "Oh...". Your heart was beating faster as you felt nervous from his touch.

Remaining in this position for a short time, you saw your mother suddenly approach a younger man. Seeing her gesture over to you, you felt your heart sink.

"Oh no."

Seonghwa followed your gaze and clenched his jaw. It was going to take a bit more on his part for your mother to back off.

Your dread only grew as your mother approached you, stranger in tow. After some brief introductions, in which your mother barely acknowledged Seonghwa, the man seemed to grow nervous.

Glancing at Senghwa you saw him staring at the man with an almost unnerving gaze. You smiled to yourself as you realized he was trying to silently scare the man off.

Luckily for you, it worked, as the man excused himself a few minutes later, leaving your mother disappointed as she left to go find your father.

You nudged Seonghwa and he looked over at you, "I'm surprised you didn't burn holes into him."

He chuckled, "I tried my best."

Unfortunately for the two of you, your mother still remained unconvinced Seonghwa was anything to you but a friend as she started to plot with another one of the suitors.

Seonghwa, having been keeping an eye on her, saw this and quickly made his own move.

Taking your glass and setting it aside he smiled at you, "Let's dance."

You swallowed nervously, "Dance?"

He nodded, "Before she brings the next one over."

You looked round in panic to see your mother walking through the room with another man you did not know. Seonghwa slid his hand into yours as he swiftly lead you to the dance floor.

As Seonghwa pulled you close to him as you began dancing in rhythm to the music playing, you watched as your mother shoo the man off as she watched you and Seonghwa.

You smiled as you looked at Seonghwa, whose gaze almost parallelized you. You swallowed nervously again as you avoided eye contact, becoming more aware of how close you were.

"Did it work?" He spoke softly, making goosebumps rise up our neck as his breath brushed your ear.

You nodded and he smiled in pride.

"She always sees right through me." You mumble a moment later.

"Well, she can look as hard as she wants at me, she wont see what she is expecting too."

Your eyes shot over to him as he smiled at you. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged his head softly, and you slyly pinched his arm, making him hiss.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. You and your cryptic words." You giggled and he smiled fondly at you.

He hoped you did actually understand what he meant, and the way you seemed to avoid eye contact, made him think you did.

Suddenly kissing your cheek you looked back at him in surprise and he laughed softly.

You scoffed, "I think you might be enjoying my misery too much you know."

He grinned, "Just a little."

Your dance with Seonghwa helped you avoid one suitor, but your mother managed to surprise you with two more as you and Seonghwa were talking to your father.

One seemed just as intimidated by Seonghwa as the first man had been, and avoided conversation. But the other seemed unfazed, even amused by the situation.

Seonghwa's annoyance rose as this man lingered too close to you, attempted to lean closer as he joked with you, and even brushed your hand on purpose as he handed you a drink.

The only thing saving Seonghwa from his anger, was your obvious disinterest in the man. Even your mother seemed a bit perturbed by his actions, which only helped Seonghwa's confidence.

Finally finding a moment to excuse yourself to use the bathroom, you and Seonghwa shared a nod as you made your escape. Once you left the bathroom, Seonghwa swooped past, leading you through the crowd, away from your mother and the cocky suitor, before the two of you stepped outside.

As soon as the cold night air hit you, you let out a sigh of relief. "God that man was driving me crazy."

Seonghwa chuckled as he slid off his jacket following you to the terrace wall. As you leaned on the wall, looking out at the view, you felt Seonghwa drape his jacket over you and you smiled at him.

"Thank you."

He nodded with a smile as he placed his hands on the wall and took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

Seonghwa's eyes snapped over to you at your sudden apology. "For what?"

"Asking you to come here when it made no difference, you can leave if you want." You smiled almost sadly as you looked up at the sky.

"I think it is making a difference. Besides that ken-doll I've managed to scare the others off. I'll stay."

You smiled as your heart pounded. Seonghwa was always there for you in any situation.

Looking over at him, you smiled "Thank you."

He nodded, "Of course. Besides, I like the idea of you owing me."

You chuckled at this, "It sounds like you have something specific in mind that you want from me."

He looked at you for a moment as he seemed to study your face, making you feel shy. "I do."

You felt your chest clench, "What is it?"

He smirked as he turned to face you, still leaning on the wall. He cleared his throat before he leaned in a little, holding your attention completely.

"A date."

Adrenaline seemed to spike through you as your heart raced, "...A date?"

He nodded softly "A real date, not another fake one."

Your mind seemed to go blank as you stared at him in shock. "...oh"

He tilted his head as he watched you stare at him in silence. As much as he was not showing it, he was beginning to panic at your lack of response.

"Not interested?"

You seemed to regain control of yourself as he spoke and you shook your head, "Noo, no- I mean, that's not it, I'm just surprised."

"By what?"

"Well, why would you want to go on a date with me?"

The tone of your voice sounded so genuine Seonghwa felt his chest clench painfully. Did you really have no idea of his feelings for you? Had he hid them too well?

A frown was evident on his face as he leaned a little closer to you. "Are you crazy? I've been wanting to go out with you for ages, Y/n."

You let out a soft bewildered laugh, "What?"

"Yeah! I've tried to ask you out a few times but it never worked out. The others always found out and invited themselves along, not realizing I wanted it to just be us. So it always ended up turning into hang outs rather than dates."

As those moments passed through your mind as you recalled the disappointment you felt each time. You let out another laugh "So that was never on purpose?"

He shook his head as he smiled, watching you chuckle at the realization. As your eyes met you looked away shyly as you played nervously with your hands, a habit Seonghwa picked up on a long time ago.

Catching sight of someone at a nearby window, Seonghwa noticed your mother watching the two of you as your father tried to pull her away. He let out a soft silent laugh as he shook his head gently.

Looking back at you, he leaned closer as he gently reached over to caress your face, gaining your attention.

You looked back at him a little startled by his actions as butterflies swirled in your stomach.

"So what do you say? I don't want you to go on a date with me because you owe me a favor, I want you to go because you want to."

You swallowed nervously as your chest grew warm. You nodded softly, "I want too."

A grin spread across his face, "Good. Now, don't be too startled."

You furrowed your brow as you silently questioned him. You heart spiking as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, right on the edge of your lips.

He smiled cheekily at you as you caught on to his reason for the kiss. "Is my mother watching us again?"

He nodded softly and you laughed, looking away bashfully for a moment before looking back at him. He leaned closer again, a teasing smile on his face making you giggle just as he kissed your cheek again.

"Stop! If you do too much she might start planning a wedding."

He laughed, before he suddenly placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, "That doesn't sound so bad."

You bit your lip to keep from grinning as he chuckled softly, adjusting his jacket around your shoulders as he looked back at the window. Your mother was nowhere in sight, and he had no idea if she saw the kiss in the first place. But even if she didn't, there was nothing for her to suspect now.

Now he had no intention of being your fake anything, and he had absolutely no intention of letting you go.

xx End xx

Sort of an abrupt ending?? But it's getting late and I'm running out of brain power lol

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @dlmlufics, @hongjoongsprincess, @tunaasan, @thedistractedwriter, @dear-dreamie, @thunderous-wolf, @briqnne, @tinyelfperson, @ye0nvibezzn

Requested Tag: @dinossaurz

{Taglist Form}

[aswaki]

his rib tattoo peaked out and i almost got dumb..... i need to see it in full. and— matthew's such a performer. baby did so well at the fancon. you wouldn't notice he was nervous. anyway this little scene needed to be out of my head. LIKE SERIOUSLY, imagine matthew still on high from the concert so he hurries backstage so he could play with you. he doesn't want his night of fun to end. he needs to put his dick inside you as soon as he gets off the stage. it's a routine at this point. he likes knowing your eyes were on him the whole event and you were as horny as he was. he could just ravish you in front of the crowd. post concert fuck!!!!!!!!

seok matthew x reader | flashfic | borderline explicit

contains: no gendered term for reader, idol matthew from 240323 fancon, suggestive tone, pet name ("baby")

matthew thrived on stage. he'd be drunk on the fans' cheers, blinding lights, and the music. it was thrilling for him as it was for you. seeing him perform was always electric.

one would think after getting to burn that much energy, he'd be exhausted but resting was the last thing on his mind whenever he finished an event. not when you were there.

after his performances, he'd meet you backstage where you would be dutifully waiting for him.

“my matty!” you exclaimed as he rushed to you. his toned arms wrapped themselves to your waist as you gave him a hug.

the world disappeared in the background as you reveled in the warmth he emanated. his body was still covered sweat but you didn't mind especially when you had have him this close to you. you could feel every dip and muscle on him.

“you were incredible! almost too hot, honestly.” you told him, as his hands caressed your sides. he grinned at your praise. it made you happy to be hearing so many people scream his name. he really was getting there.

matthew's eyes darkened as you called him hot. he chuckled at your words, “my number one fan. it always will be you, baby.”

he kissed your neck. his lips brushing against your skin sent shivers through your body. you sighed contently as his soft lips attached itself to you, as if it was leaving a promise.

okay, he was too hot on stage. not an almost. he actually was.

it's not his fault he had so much charisma. but in turn, it made you hot and bothered in your seat when you see him on stage do body rolls and other dance moves that made you want to eat glass. he would find ways to tease you during the performances, such as his eyes locking into yours when he'd wave his body or do something simple as wiping the dampness away from his chest.

his tattoos even found themselves peaking out tonight, especially his latest rib tattoo. the way it teasingly appeared and disappeared behind his clothing through the night made it sexier. your hand instinctively went to his ribs and rubbed the spot where his tattoo was on. it wasn't hard to slip your hand underneath his loose sleeveless shirt.

this filmsy top was an accomplice to his crimes tonight. it had his strong arms on full display that made you want to bite into his muscles. it had revealed his tattoo. it had also given people a nice look of his toned chest. all the while he'd be interjecting aegyo while looking this fine. these things were enough to drive you mad.

you wondered how many people felt the same thing as you did.

these thoughts left your mind as soon as he grinded against you. his fingers traced the line of your waist down to your hips. he rolled his hips once more to you, wasting no time to express his arousal. you gulped down the excitement in your throat when you felt his hard on. the adrenaline that coursed through both of your veins made it impossible to resist each other.

matthew had a lot of energy left from performing that he always wanted to use it on you. the thing was he'd be so impatient and needy.

he locked eyes with you and in a seductive tone, he whispered, “let me give you your own private performance, yeah?”

a/n: so we have two idol stories consecutively! (here's the other one) i'd probably rewrite this to a longer & better one when i get to properly sort of my thoughts and if y'all want it. (but i also want to be able to learn how to settle with flashfics/drabbles & hcs too wahh) (update: i made a flashfic from an anon thought in which it can be seen as a continuation from this of some sorts.)

divider credit: crazyfrm

image credit: matt _0528_0710 on twitter/x

[shitsndgiggs]

YN is a small town girl who met Kenan by chance and is now dating him. He brings her to Istanbul to meet his teammates but when she sees how beautiful the other WAGS are and how beautiful Turkish women and models are, she can't help but think that she isn't good and pretty enough because in her eyes, she is a nobody. But Kenan won't allow his pretty girl to have a single bad thought in her mind.

YOU BELONG WITH ME - KENAN YILDIZ

When you feel out of place amidst beautiful women, Kenan is always there to let you know your worth

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I never imagined that my life would change so dramatically. Growing up in a small town, my world was simple and predictable.

Meeting Kenan was like a whirlwind that lifted me from my ordinary life into something extraordinary.

It felt like a fairytale, but now, as I stood in the bustling city of Istanbul, I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that I didn’t belong.

Kenan had invited me to meet his turkish teammates and their significant others at a posh rooftop lounge. It was a beautiful evening, and the city lights twinkled like stars. Yet, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place.

The women here were stunning—tall, elegant, and dressed in designer outfits that looked straight off the runway. They exuded confidence, and I felt like a plain, small-town girl in comparison.

Kenan, sensing my unease, gently squeezed my hand. "You okay, love?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

I forced a smile, trying to hide my insecurities. "Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed."

We made our way through the crowd, and Kenan introduced me to his teammates and their partners. Everyone was friendly, but I couldn't help but feel like I was underdressed and out of place.

I found myself comparing my simple dress to their glamorous attire, and the more I did, the smaller I felt.

We eventually found a quiet corner where we could sit down. Kenan's arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, but my mind was racing with doubts.

I tried to join the conversations, but my self-consciousness held me back.

When Kenan excused himself to speak with one of his teammates, I was left alone, nursing my drink and fighting back tears.

I overheard a few women discussing their latest modeling gigs and high-profile events, and it only made me feel worse. What was I doing here? I was just a nobody.

Kenan returned and immediately noticed the shift in my mood. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. But Kenan wasn't having it. He gently tilted my chin up, making me meet his gaze.

"Talk to me, Y/N," he insisted. "What's going on?"

I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I just... I feel like I don't belong here, Kenan. Everyone is so beautiful and glamorous, and I'm just... me. A small-town girl who doesn't measure up."

His expression softened, and he pulled me closer. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful person here. Inside and out. Do you know why I fell for you? Because you’re real. You’re kind, and you have a heart of gold. Those things matter so much more than fancy clothes or model looks."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked away, trying to compose myself. "But look at them," I whispered. "They're perfect."

Kenan cupped my face in his hands, his gaze intense and unwavering. "No, they're not. Nobody is perfect. And you—you're perfect for me. You don’t have to compete with anyone. I love you just the way you are."

I bit my lip, feeling the warmth of his words seep into my heart. "But what if they think I'm not good enough for you?"

Kenan's eyes flashed with determination. "Then they don’t know what they're talking about. You are more than enough, Y/N. You are everything to me."

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering as if to seal his words. "I brought you here because I wanted to share my world with you. Not to make you feel less than. You are my equal, my partner. Never forget that."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Kenan’s love and reassurance were like a balm to my wounded self-esteem. "Thank you, Kenan," I whispered. "I needed to hear that."

He smiled, brushing a tear from my cheek. "Anytime, my love. Now, let's enjoy the evening together. And remember, you belong here because you belong with me."

As the night went on, I felt more at ease. Kenan never left my side, his presence a constant reminder of his love and support.

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

are you... are you gonna be okay?

pair: Timothée Chalamet x reader

requested by anonymous

so I got like this angsty timothee chalamet idea, what if reader is also famous (author actress idk) and they are fake dating for pr, but he ends up falling in love with her? idk I think it could be amazing, you're so talented!!

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The cameras flashed, blinding and relentless as usual. Timothée’s arm rested around your waist, pulling you close, a perfect picture for the gossip columns. The crowd of paparazzi called out for the two of you to look their way, to give them something to sell. You plastered on the same smile you always did, playing the role of the doting girlfriend to perfection.

It had been almost six months of this—this pretend relationship, this endless charade that kept your names in the headlines and sold tickets and books alike. When your publicist suggested the arrangement, you laughed at the absurdity of it. A PR stunt that paired an author with an actor—it was too on the nose, too obviously fake. But it worked. The buzz around your upcoming book was insane, and Timothée’s latest film was breaking box office records.

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the night dragging on you. The exhaustion wasn’t from the event itself, but from the act of pretending, from playing this role that was supposed to be simple. No strings, no real feelings, just a professional arrangement.

Except it hadn’t stayed simple for him.

It was a little over a month ago when you first noticed the shift. Timothée was spending more time around you, asking about your writing, your day, things that had nothing to do with what the cameras saw. At first, you chalked it up to him getting into character, making the act more believable. But then he started showing up with coffee at your door, texted you late at night just to talk, and looked at you in a way that made your heart clench.

You didn’t let yourself think about it too much. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. You were too different, your worlds only overlapping because some marketing team decided it was a good idea.

The limo ride home was quiet. Timothée stared out the window, his expression pensive, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. You knew that look. He was somewhere else, lost in his thoughts, and you didn’t want to intrude. But the silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating.

“You okay?” you finally asked, breaking the silence.

He turned to you, his eyes softening when they met yours. “Yeah, just... thinking.”

“About?”

“Us.”

Your breath caught, but you forced a light laugh. “What about us?”

Timothée didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He just looked at you, his gaze searching your face like he was trying to find something there. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

You frowned, shifting in your seat to face him fully. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he gestured between the two of you. “Pretending. It doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Your heart started to race, panic setting in. If he wanted out, you didn’t know what that would mean for your career, for everything you had built around this stupid, fake relationship. “Timothée, we’ve only got a few more weeks—”

“That’s not what I mean,” he interrupted, his voice strained. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I mean... I don’t want to pretend because it doesn’t feel like pretending anymore. At least, not for me.”

His words hung in the air, a confession you didn’t want to hear. You looked away, your mind scrambling to come up with something to say, something to deflect, to make this easier. But there was nothing. Because deep down, you knew.

“You can’t—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “This was never supposed to be real, Timothée.”

“I know,” he said, his voice soft, pained. “But it is. For me. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

He was in love with you. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing your breath away. And the worst part was that you didn’t feel the same. You cared about him, sure, but love? You couldn’t let yourself go there, not when everything between you was built on a lie.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Timothée sighed, leaning back against the seat, his eyes closing as if he could shut out the world. “I know. It’s not your fault. I just... I don’t know how to turn it off.”

You didn’t have an answer for him. There was no easy fix, no way to make this less complicated. So, you sat in silence for the rest of the ride, both of you lost in thoughts you couldn’t share.

When the car finally stopped in front of your apartment, you hesitated before getting out. “Are you... are you gonna be okay?”

Timothée gave you a sad smile, one that broke your heart just a little. “I will be. Eventually.”

[iguana-eyanna]

To Miss Laurant... Pt. 1

Pairing: Lord Alfred Debling x Reader

Summary: What happens when two souls who had not found love find it within each other?

a/n: okay a bit late on watching bridgerton (don't come at me please) but I feel like Debling is a well written character and would love to see him more so mwUAH! I also wanted to give the reader a name so the last name is Laurant.

"There, one of my greatest works!" Madame Delacroix said as she finished the hem of your dress.

You admire the beading by your sleeves and how it flows by the end of your gown, which was also adorned by a cape.

"It's just us, Genevieve. You can lose the accent" You said, looking back at your childhood friend.

"Oi. I have to keep appearances, you'll never know who'd walk in those doors." She said in her regular voice. You both laugh as if you two haven't seen each other since your family moved to the Americas. You then became a traveling performer, singing for the largest of crowds and now back home to sing for the biggest event.

"I still can't believe you're back home, and performing for the queen no less. Are you nervous?" She asks.

You press your hand on your stomach, feeling the butterflies.

"Very. I never sang for royalty before. I thank Lady Danbury for opening her home to me for my stay and offering counsel on how to approach her majesty."

"Well, the bachelor's will swoon by your talent, wit, and beauty for tonight." Madame Delacroix, she said, kneeling by the end of your dress to fix a hem.

"I'm afraid that's where you lose me Gen. I faced too many heartbreak in my life, sometimes I don't believe in the words I am singing."

Genevieve tsks at you and rises up, placing her hands by your shoulders.

"You shan't forsaken your passion for love. Who knows, maybe you shall meet a certain suitor tonight."

"Perhaps..." You said, looking back at the mirror, unsure that you believe in the feeling.

+

"My Lord, welcome back home." an older man said, offering his assistance to Lord Debling.

"Only temporary Buford, I do wish things do recover." Lord Debling replied, as he looks down at his cane.

Upon his mission to save a rare mammal during an unforgiving snowstorm, Lord Debling lost his footing on a weak stone by the side of a cliff and fell 20 feet down. It was remarkable that he survived the fall, but he broke his leg and he had scars around his face and torso from the turbulent fall.

His crew helped him find the nearest physician and was told he must return home to recover for the sake of his health. With much dismay, he returned back to Mayfair, hoping he could leave to complete his mission.

"Yes sir, a speedy recovery you shall have." Buford replied as he helped the Lord get into his carriage.

They rode off to the estate, where Lord Debling looks outward to the town. He accidentally made eye contact with a few townspeople and they began to whisper. The Lord whipped the small curtain closed and inhaled, catching his breath.

"Your return has spread quickly here, they've said you've cheated death." Buford said with caution.

"What I've cheated on was my mission. If I'm not back by the end of this season, the creatures would not survive the rest of the winter." Lord Debling said.

"Of course sir, my apologies. If you like, I can provide on the latest news since your last visit."

"I suppose that wouldn't hurt."

"Well, the queen is having a ball at the palace. You did also receive an invitation."

"I do not wish to entertain anyone for the matter, Buford." the tired Lord replies.

"If I may speak freely, you have not been seen in ages, my Lord. I believe some live entertainment shall lift your spirits momentarily."

The Lord ponders for a moment.

"Well, I guess I shall use my night wisely. Thank you for your counsel, Buford. Live entertainment you said?"

"Yes, a singer. She's an accomplished musician who's toured around the Americas, Asia, and Europe. I have her flyer here." Buford offered a folded paper to the Lord.

Alfred Danbury looks fondly, reading out loud your last name.

"Laurant?"

"Are you familiar with her?" Buford asks.

Lord Debling shakes his head no as he folds back the paper.

"No, I'm afraid not." He replied as opens back the window, looking outward.

As the night arrived, Lord Debling felt like he was out of practice around the high society. People often shared condolescences on his accident and women would near him, they're faces would be etched with pity.

He wanted to crawl out of his skin and be in the confinement of his home. It was like the walls of the room was closing in and rushed out as fast as he could. He slowly took off his coat and vest, leaving on his white button shirt.

He managed to get by the gardens and sat down, hissing as the ache in his leg was acting up. He drops his clothes and cane to the side and tends his knee, closing his eyes.

"Are you alright?" a soft spoken voice is heard.

He opens his eyes and faces you, as you sat in your plain dress by the quiet fountain that were etched with baby angels.

"I wish I could stop hearing that." He grumbles to himself.

"I'm sorry for asking." You said, huffing as you turned away.

Lord Debling felt horrible as he straightens up as best he could.

"Forgive my manners, all night I've been consoled and pitied for. I do not wish to feel like a wounded creature." He says, showing his cane.

You turn your head towards him again. You bow your head, understanding.

"It's alright, my apologies for striking a sour chord."

Lord Debling couldn't help but laugh and cracked a smile, a manner he has not done since his accident. He offers you a seat by him and you obliged.

"What is a maiden as yourself outside for?" He asks.

You struggle to find the right words and looked at him with kind eyes.

"This is my first ball, I was afraid I'd make a fool of myself."

"It's impossible, I do not know you well but you carry yourself with such poise." Lord Debling says.

You couldn't help chuckle, not believing his words.

"We must not let fear get to us tonight. Life is too short to squabble in the mist of doubt."

Lord Debling was beguiled of your wisdom.

"Well said, miss..." he trailed on, not getting your name.

You were about to reply till the bell tower rang.

"Oh no, I'm late!" You said, grabbing your dress and quickly running off.

"But wait, I don't know your name!" Lord Debling said, getting up.

You turned towards him, screaming out your name.

"What is yours so I may remember?"

He was about to say his title, but he stopped. You seemed so free from high society, he didn't know who you were or what your ranking was. He just saw you for, well you.

"Alfred!" He yelled back.

"We shall meet again, Alfred." You said, before running off.

Lord Debling placed his hand on his heart, feeling it race like gazelles.

He had kept his heart from ever loving something more than protecting the innocence of wildlife, and yet, you ran away and he longed for your presence once more.

He placed his outer garments, grabbed his cane and walked with purpose back at the ball, trying to find you in the sea of people. Soon, the floor cleared and an announcer walked on the platform.

"Our dearest guests, we have brought you a special talent for tonight. As she prepares to travel to the pacific this summer, she has graced us with her voice for this season. I present to you, Miss Laurant!"

Everyone cheered and a figure slowly walked onto the platform, with an almost glowing dress that illuminated more by the lights. She looked outward to the crowd, afraid with those memorizing eyes.

That's when Lord Debling knew it was you.

You looked upward to the queen, as she gave you grim look of disappointment. You looked away and tried to find peace in your stirring mind. That's when you made eye contact with a familiar face.

Alfred.

He shook his head to you, almost indicating that you had enough courage to go on.

You straighten upward and faced the orchestra by the side and you began to sing.

Lord Debling stood like a statue. Your voice captivated his ears like a songbird, and he was too afraid to move in fear you would stop.

You didn't leave your gaze on Alfred, as he was your anchor through the storm that filled your head with dread. For once in your life, you begun to understand the words you've sung about love. Something ignited you, and it was proven as there was a roar of applause that was for your performance.

You look back at the queen and she nodded in approval, smiling contently. You bow in her presence and left the platform.

The orchestra resumed the delightful tune of dance as you were congratulated by the court. Lady Danbury walked up to you, beaming with pride.

"My dear, I understood you've sung for a living but I underestimated that voice. Do not let me doubt you again." She says lively.

"Oh, you're too kind, Lady Danbury. It is you I have to share gratitude for. Thank you for having me into your home."

"Anytime, my dear. I also bring good news, her majesty is requesting a private audience with you during your stay here."

Your mouth dropped into an 'O' and you hugged Lady Danbury, then a split second letting go as you straighten yourself.

"Apologies, but this news has elated my mood of late. Thank you." You said, as Lady Danbury just gave you a beaming smile.

She was about to say something until something caught her eye. "It seems you have made an impression to a particular someone."

You don't understand what she's saying until you see Alfred, now dressed formally. He walks towards you two and bows his head.

"Lady Danbury, it's a pleasure to see you tonight. Miss Laurant, I did not expect you were tonight's performance."

"You two know each other?" Lady Danbury asks.

"Br-Briefly. We exchanged words by the garden." You said, confused as you thought Alfred was a footman of sort, but dressed similar to those in the court.

"I was blown away by your performance tonight, Miss Laurant. Perhaps when I am in the best of health, I can escort you to the dance floor sometime."

"Lord Debling, I thought you never dance at balls." Lady Danbury teases making him chuckle.

"Lord?" You ask, your eyes wide.

"I am sorry if I did not share my title at the time-" Lord Debling tried to explain but you took a step back.

"Lady Danbury, I must rest before meeting her majesty this week. Thank you both for your kind words, but I must go." You bowed before you left them in confusion.

"Did I offend her honor? I did not know my title would have her leave." Lord Debling asks, feeling as if he'd hurt you.

Lady Danbury could see his sincere features and tried consoling him.

"It is not you, my Lord. Before Miss Laurant came back to London, she has told me she has had a troubled past. It appears you may have reminded her of something that she can't escape."

Lord Debling could only look at the direction where you left, wondering if you were alright.

Soon, you hailed a carriage and traveled to Lady Danbury's residence. You sank by the wall and began to cry, holding yourself for some comfort.

You thought Alfred was like you, free from title and expectations. You thought that maybe, you could love him.

But you can't give your heart to a Lord,

not again.

To be continued...

[sarahreesbrennan]

sorry if you have already answered this, but are we getting any queer rep in Long Live Evil? 💕 i am super excited to see what you've cooked up for us either way!

I came back after I'd gone off on one, seeing the post had struck a chord and being thankful but fearful of my inbox. Let me say with delighted surprise that all the asks are very kind.

Thank you for this one, sweet anon. I am so excited and so nervous about my best beloved, Long Live Evil, and about coming back with a new book of my own after so long, when I believed for a long time it was hopeless.

I'm really grateful to find readers waiting for me. But I know readers are naturally more invested in characters they know: I extremely appreciate you taking an interest in the future.

So, short answer: YEAH you are!

Long answer: Long Live Evil wouldn't exist without its queer narratives.

C.S. Pacat and I were talking in our virtual Brookline Booksmith event recently about our favourite Disney villains. C.S. Pacat picked Maleficent, a fine choice. I picked Snow White's Evil Queen. We agreed we loved most of them.

Here's the relevant excerpt I was quoting in my last post from Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House, saying 'I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them.' Well... me too.

I think many of us have experienced feeling made wrong in some way - for not wanting what society said we should or being what we were expected to be - and that one step along that journey of discovery is going 'Okay, if it's wicked, I'll just BE wicked.' And that's part of why those characters appeal - because they seem free, and free of pain.

But modern storytelling isn't confined to coding, and audiences can now feel free to expect, not the certainty, but the possibility characters who aren't introduced as such still might actually turn out to be LGBT+. The essays I've read about Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Ted Lasso, Fox 9-1-1... I think the latest argued Jaime Lannister was bisexual. (Pretty persuasive.)

I remember reading the Raven Cycle going 'oh? OH.' I remember being at a writing retreat in 2013 and running through the halls screaming about Nico diAngelo. Ten years later we got a Nico diAngelo book co-written by Rick Riordan and the amazing Mark Oshiro. I watched Red, White and Royal Blue with a friend and she said 'honestly I hope the guys get together, but...' and I (having read the book) silenced myself with a herculean effort and watched her hopes come true. I didn't know about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and almost dropped the book in a swimming pool. But I've also read and watched many things thinking, just maybe... oh, no. Still that hope existing is meaningful, the thought that if the story had gone differently, if this revelation had happened, if this realisation had happened, if, if, if...

Long Live Evil is a story about the story going differently and asking yourself questions about your own nature, and the escape to fiction of those who really need escape. The book is based on that 'if,' and the 'if' itself is joyous, and brings me back to the idea of gleefully transgressing the narrative that much villain love is based on.

It's also an ensemble story with a rogue's gallery of characters and multiple PoVs. (I was much inspired by the Six of Crows ensemble.) So it isn't about any one character's romance, and by the book's nature there exist many possibilities. A critique partner read and said 'I didn't know you were going THERE' and I responded 'Should I?'

I've never been one to confirm where stories are going, and I won't do so now. I'm not talking about any one character or telling you a direction.

I'm just saying yes to rep. It's baked in.

[jun-of-love]

i will spend my whole life loving you- kim mingyu

tw: none

genre: fluff, angst, kim mingyu

words: 1.7k

pairings: yn × mingyu

a/n: this a very random scenario that popped up in my head. it's all imagination, and does not in any way reflect mine or mingyu's opinions, values, thoughts etc. with that being said i hope you like it :)

“Hey Y/n, is something wrong with Mingyu?”

You had just parked your car when Seungcheol’s text popped on your screen. You read it, sighing deeply. Mingyu had been behaving really weird lately, no one knew what was going on in his mind. Considering that his contract with HYBE was expiring soon, you gave him some space as you figured that he needed time to figure out the specifics. The date was still far away, and the renewal discussion had just been initiated, there was seemingly no reason for Mingyu to act so disturbed over this. You closed your eyes and massaged your temple, the events of last week replaying in your head.

“Gyu, how was practice??” you chirped as soon as he entered the house, eyes void of energy. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“It's everyday babe, nothing special. I’m just tired, I’m going to sleep in the guest bedroom.” He picked up Uri, your cat, and slammed the door shut. You were left with Doori, your other cat in your lap meowing at the shift in the energy. You didn’t want to tire him further or initiate any fights so you left the incident at that, even though it was only in the most intense fights that one of you would sleep in the guest bedroom.

However, before you could even wake up, Mingyu had left the house to go god-knows-where. All he left behind was a lame sticky note saying ‘Don’t worry about me, I had to head out early for some work.’ You were surprised but also concerned; Mingyu never lied, you both had each other’s schedules in your phones, and there was no reason for him to get out of the house at 7 in the morning. You texted and called him multiple times, but he had his phone switched off, further irritating you. You had no time to worry about this, as your own work started in a few hours and you had to get ready for another hard day of dealing with patients.

And so it continued for a week. Mingyu refused to interact with you, or anyone else for that matter. He would sleep early if he reached home before you, or came home after you fell asleep and left before you could wake up. He would only talk as much as necessary with his members and would be on his phone or staring off in the distance for hours. The latest episode of GoSe they shot ended up giving little to no screentime to him because of his low enthusiasm. For a roaring extrovert like him, this behavior was getting very concerning.

You stood in front of your apartment door, deciding to end this episode once and for all. You hadn’t sent him your regular text telling him that you’ve left work. You were back early, and you could hear the sounds of some activity going on inside. You quietly entered the house, leaving your things on the sofa and tip-toeing your way toward the kitchen.

There he was, back hunched over the sink, doing the dishes from the meal he had just cooked. Mingyu had a habit of humming or talking to himself while doing household chores, but he was eerily silent today. The sound of water splashing and utensils clanking against each other was deafening when not paired with his sweet humming. Your eyes prickled with tears, he really wasn’t feeling okay.

You walked towards him slowly, hugging him tightly from the back. A confused “Huh?” leaves his lips as he registers your presence. “You’re back early.” He said, in a vague tone.

“Kim Mingyu, what is wrong with you?” Mingyu shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his full name, but you refused to let go. “You haven’t even looked at me properly this past week. You’re not talking to me or anyone else at all,” You made him turn around, looking deeply into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong? Please, please talk to me.” Your tone turned into a pleading one without intending to, you had never been the one to hide your emotions well.

It felt as if all hold Mingyu had over himself fell apart. He hugged you tightly, his body slightly shaking, indicating that he was crying. You only stroked his back, trying your best to comfort him despite your overwhelming concern for him. Exactly what could have happened for him to break apart like that? He had been through malicious scandals and stalker fans yet this was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable.

“Y/n, I don’t want to do this anymore.” Mingyu managed to say between sobs. Your mind went blank and your body went cold, he wanted to break up with you?

“Do what?”

“This. Whatever I’m doing right now.” He continued. “I want to stop being an idol.” He stared into your eyes, desperately looking for validation. “I’m tired of this life. I’ve been working to the bone since I was fifteen, I have achieved more than I have ever dreamed, I just-” He hiccuped, “I just don’t want to be public property anymore. I don’t want to fake my personality, my emotions, my opinions 24/7, I’m sick of this.” He held your hand tightly, “Earlier I didn’t care, I had no one to come back home to, I could spend as much time as I wanted to in practice rooms, studios, broadcasts what not. But ever since I’ve met you, it kills me every time I have to hide our relationship for our safety, leave you and our daughters alone for months to perform on tours and even when I’m here, I always have some goddamn schedule to follow, and it's getting sickening to me! I just want to live with my family for as much time as I want.”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew his career was his dream, passion, and everything he has ever wanted and you also knew that he was slowly getting sick of it, but to this point? All of this to be with you? All you knew was that you would support him no matter what. “Let the contract expire then.” You said.

“What?”

“I said, fuck your idol industry. Leave your job. Stay at home and do whatever you want. Let’s spend all of our days and nights together. Let’s scream out our relationship to everyone. Leave all this behind if it is making you so miserable.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked incredulously. “You don’t have a problem with it? I’ll be unemployed. You’ll have a jobless husband.”

“Aha, you’re going too far Mr. Mingyu, you gotta put a ring on my finger first before calling yourself my unemployed husband.” You chuckled, careful not to show how giddy the word ‘husband’ made you.

However, Mingyu looked unaffected. “Don’t joke around.” He said sternly. “I won’t be able to be the man you deserve. I won’t be able to contribute to the house, or buy you pretty things, or give our daughters the best toys they deserv-”

“Gyu, are you crazy? You are the man I love. I don’t even care what I deserve, and even if I did I’m sure I’ve gotten way more than that.” You kiss him softly on the lips. “Retire and do whatever you want to do. Plus, I don’t get why you’re so worried about the financial part, have you forgotten how fat your bank account is? The bigass investments your accountant has made sure you have?? You own a fucking building for God’s sake, who put all this unemployment bullshit in your head?”

“Are you okay with me being a house-husband then?” Mingyu challenged, “What if I tell you I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you and our fur daughters and in the future, our children, and not work a day in my life ever at all ?!?” His eyes were so determined it made you laugh.

“Mingyu, what the hell are you talking about??” You giggled. “I would love that. I don’t like that domestic stuff as much anyway, you know that. Coming back home from work to a warm meal and a delicious man? How could I possibly say no??” His confused face made you laugh more, and hug him out of pure adoration.

Mingyu continued pouting,” I won’t be a high-value man then.” You snapped his head towards him, where was he getting all this stuff from? “Wouldn’t you be embarrassed when people ask you what your husband does and you have to say that he does nothing?”

“Who told you that? Let people believe whatever they want to believe. Who cares what people say, Gyu? As long as we’re happy together, as long as we’re balancing our relationship and our home properly, I don’t give a flying fuck about what anyone says.” You grab his face looking straight into his eyes. “I will yell and announce to everyone that I have a stay-at-home husband and everybody will be jealous to the very bone, you just see. Having you as a partner is such a flex, babe, don’t let this high-value shit get to your head, it is all bullshit anyway.” Mingyu smiles lightly, mostly from your overwhelmingly passionate speech. “Even if you were to sell your investments and your buildings, and donate that money to charity, I will still be able to support the house comfortably so Don’t. Worry. About. The. Money. Your girlfriend is a dentist” You finish your speech with a smirk, making him chuckle.

Mingyu just held you in his embrace tightly, words like ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you’ couldn’t possibly suffice for the extent of adoration and respect he had for you in his heart. He felt emotions that he couldn’t quite describe, but he was sure that relief and gratitude were some of them. A huge burden had been lifted off of him, and he could only hope you knew how much you had helped him till now. The grave concerns and issues bothering him for so long felt so small to him, now that he had your support. He could take over the world, or live his dream domestic life, everything was possible as long as you were by his side.

[vasito-de-leche]

A short (or not) ramble of scenarios and questions for reverse: 1999 self aware. (sorry if this bothers you, I just don’t have enough confidence to post it on my own blog (plus I love your content))

- Okay so first of all, in the main page of the game, when you click on the upper left corner with your level and username, you go to a screen with Vertin looking fly as ever along with some user information.

So if Vertin can see the game’s ui, then she can see the year in which the player has joined the game (2023-2024). I haven’t dived deep into Vertin’s character so I can’t portray her reaction to much, but I feel like she would tell this info to someone close like Sonetto.

Also our motto: I put “When in a rush, say ‘runs in high heels cutely.’”. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone (even fictional sentient characters) saw that. Like im dead.

On that topic, when you mentioned in your Sonetto self aware post that she can sometimes see us, and honestly, I’d be even more embarrassed. Cause like, if any of the characters from games I played, were sentient and could see me, id pray they didn’t see my bad angle. Like imagine looking up to the sky to see, just for a second, the chin of a head as the hands go to scratch their nose. Like the first impressions I would make.

- P2p players. Imagine the player spending money on the game (at the risk of Vertin possibly seeing their credit card number) to help level up or get costumes for their fave characters.

(Some misc. questions)

-what would happen if player didn’t log in the game for a while (a week to a month as best) cause I would ditch some games to spend more time on others

- What does Vertin think of the mail messages that the player gets? Like the latest mail I got was the discord event invitation. Upon closer inspection and critical thinking, it would hint that there would be more players other than us because it says the winners get 60 clear drops (oh and money too)

- If I remember correctly, I think you mentioned about Vertin hearing the player sometimes. So imagine her hearing us trash talk certain character *cough* Constantine *cough*.

(Anyways, I love your content ❤️ especially your fmn headcanons, can’t wait to see more posts!!)

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU (2)

Answering some questions and discussing the Self-Aware AU. A follow up of this post.

not a bother at all, you bring up really good questions and details that are fun to explore! I'm glad you like my stuff, have a nice day o7!

On the subject of Vertin seeing the player's profile.

With the way I intended to portray Vertin within the AU, I don't think she would be affected by the date on the Player's profile!

This is the date you came into contact with her from your perspective, whatever time and space that flows within your world, not hers─the world behind the fourth barrier that she cannot see nor hear nor even fathom, let alone try to make sense of. In a way, it's like expecting ants to care about concepts we made up, such as time. They understand night and day, they do not understand 3PM nor 8AM.

Is it truly proof that time can go beyond 1999, when this is something that only she can see? When it doesn't affect a single thing within her universe by being part of a game menu meant for your eyes only? There's also the fact that she finds out the proper time of the world in the 1.4 update, in Chapter 05.

Her dynamic with the Player is something I like to keep vague, so that everyone can fill in the blanks, but ultimately it is something so complex and private for Vertin─who sees it as a one-sided relationship, since she cannot hear nor see you, unlike other arcanists who may reach the 100% bond─that I don't think she would talk about it with anyone, not even Sonetto! The name on your profile and whatever message you've written there are secrets she will take to her grave. The idea of Vertin being the eyes and hands of the Player, but having no way to truly see or hear them makes for a really fun concept to explore!

And on the subject of messages, let's be honest, if you've written something funny or some modern shitpost, chances are she won't understand it LMFAO so it's okay! I literally just have my socials and "men enjoyer" listed there.

Oh! But since you brought it up, the message section could be a fun, little way to communicate with Vertin, since she can read what's on there!

As for P2P players, Vertin wouldn't see any information from the Player's credit card since that's something that happens outside the app lolol. Like, to me, it directly opens to google play transaction stuff.

On the subject of the player dropping the game for long periods of time.

Hmm, in the first post I said that there might be characters ouside Vertin and her suitcase who may be self-aware, with their own goals and such. But nothing truly "matters" unless the Player is there to witness it. So to keep including these possibilities and details, I feel like there's two options, pick whichever you like the most!

One, time continues as usual within the game─but once it reaches an important date where the plot is meant to kick in with some important event, it simply resets back to where you left it. This is a world that exists outside of your perception, but cannot continue without you.

Two, time freezes entirely within the game─but only for those who are not self-aware. Keep in mind we're talking about long periods of time, this wouldn't happen if you log in every day, or every few days. This is what happens when your phone picks up the fact that Reverse: 1999 is one of the unused apps taking up space in your phone. This is a world that stops existing once you stop looking at it.

In both options, the Wilderness would remain unaffected as it seems to be entirely disconnected from the flow of time and space outside of it.

On the subject of the game's mail.

Since the messages auto-delete and all, I can't check but I'm pretty sure Vertin receives mail too? There were a few ones from a few characters a while back like Druvis III or An-an Lee, and I think the implication is that they were vaguely addressing Vertin?

If someone has screenshots and can confirm this, please let me know!

Either way, the easy answer is that yeah, she knows this is a game, so she could make the assumption that there's more players. She has access to your friend list, after all! And even if you don't have anyone added, the fact that it exists is enough for her to start connecting the dots.

I don't remember saying that Vertin can hear the Player, though! I think I was pretty consistent with her not being able to see nor hear you, to have the Player as some sort of eldritch, unknowable entity. But I also write so much stuff in this blog that it's hard to keep up sometimes lolol, if I've mentioned somewhere that Vertin can hear the player, it was a mistake!

[dailydragon08]

hi! if it's ok I'd love to request a scenario for the star wars gang please :) I'd love to see how they all react to a genderfluid s/o (if you have any questions plz dm me :D)

thank you!

Thanks so much for the ask! Sorry this took so long, I was on a bit of a semi-hiatus, but am back now and working on the other asks in my box! Also, thank you to @kaleidoscope1967eyes for some of the suggestions in here!

I think everyone would kind of be in the realm of similar reactions here, but with a few small differences. Everyone is very accepting about you being gender fluid and doesn’t make a huge deal of it, but are very protective of you in different ways. Eventually, they all get a knack for being able to tell whether you’re leaning more masc, fem, or somewhere in between for the day just by your clothes and hairstyle and will adjust pronouns accordingly if necessary.

Growing up as royalty and a major player in both the imperial senate and the New Republic, Leia is always on top of the latest fashions (which I wish they explored more in other media, but I digress). I think she’d be so interested in helping you adapt different clothing and hairstyles to how you were feeling that particular day and loves finding an outfit that either matches or sort of rhymes what you’re wearing to any events—or even just day-to-day wear. Being royalty and a politician, she’s traveled a lot, so this isn’t a new concept to her at all, and she thanks you for telling her with a warm smile and shoulder squeeze before getting down to business for the day. She’s very adamant that you not only have all the gender-affirming things you need day to day, but also that your preferred pronouns are written correctly in all official documents.

And if someone tries to misgender you or discriminate against you in any way whatsoever, Leia will give them the biggest dressing down of their life – no matter the time, place, or audience – and make sure they know to never pull anything like that ever again. By the time she’s done, they’re standing there like a chastised, guilty toddler as they apologize to you. If she had to, Leia would glare down and lecture the entire senate until they not only got it right, but didn’t even think about forgetting or getting it wrong ever again.

Luke is very accepting and wants you to feel safe and welcome with him above all else. He would make sure to give you a soft smile and thank you for telling him before opening up a discussion to make sure he was doing everything he could to support you and learn how he could improve. He does research on his own as well and if you’re also Force-sensitive, he will get you as many custom-made Jedi robes as you want so you have options for whatever you’re feeling day to day. He checks in with you frequently, both verbally and through the Force, to make sure you’re feeling okay and check if you’re using different pronouns from the day before. If you’re comfortable, he starts doing a daily check in via telepathic connection each morning so that even if you don’t have time to talk or are several rooms away, he’s still well informed.

The way he defends you differs a bit from his sister. If someone misgenders you or makes any sort of unnecessary comment, he’ll immediately interrupt and correct them. His face and tone stay as calm and serene as ever thanks to his Jedi training, but you can feel the irritation flowing off of him if it’s anything more than an innocent mistake. If this person continues with their behavior, he’ll correct them again and ask them to be respectful and make it clear in no uncertain terms that he sees any disrespect to you as disrespect to him and that the two of you will be walking away until they can conduct themselves better. Afterwards, he’s checking in on you and apologizing for the experience so gently and doing whatever it takes to make you feel better.

Han being Han of course makes some harmless, playful remark the first time your style drastically changes in front of him. But once you explain you’re gender fluid, he takes it in stride with a “good to know; so what are we doing for lunch?” He tends to be more observant than people give him credit for – especially with those he cares about – and although he gets good at knowing what you’re feeling that day with a glance, still decides to make a “Gender of the Day” game. Traveling around on the Falcon with him puts you in constant proximity and you find yourself stealing his shirts and jackets quite often on more masc-leaning days (which never hesitates to pull a cocky compliment or pickup line from him).

Anyone who dares to make a snide comment gets Captain Solo in full force, with a low “listen here, pal” as he leans across the table and makes sure they know if it happens again, they’ll not only have an angry sharpshooter on their hands, but also a pissed off Wookiee.

To follow up, Chewie (platonic) also is immediately accepting and although you can’t understand his language, you overhear Han keeping him up to date with your pronouns every day. Eventually, you learn from C-3PO’s translation that Chewie goes out of his way to ask someone in the OT gang every morning (and sometimes directly comes to you with the protocol droid’s help) just to make sure he’s got it right. He’s more than happy to help Han defend you as well and even when it’s just the two of you, he gives an ominous growl as he stands up to his full seven feet if anyone gives you trouble.

Similar to Leia, Lando is also well-traveled and an avid lover of fashion. This isn’t a new concept to him at all and in fact, when the two of you meet, he’s already asking what your preferred pronouns are. Like the princess, he’s also always elated to help you adapt your fashion choices and has many things custom-made for you – you can hardly say you like something or wish an aspect of a piece of clothing was a little different before he’s already buying it or having his tailors work on it. He even gifts you some articles of clothing that are a two (or even three!) in one via folding a flap a certain way, zipping something, etc. so that one shirt or pair of pants can double as either more masc, fem, or in between.

He's extremely protective of you, no matter who is giving you problems, and will always insert himself between you and the perpetrator with a hey before correcting them in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Especially with his higher rank in the rebellion, he can easily have someone removed from the room if needed and if Chewie’s nearby, employs the Wookiee’s help as well.

R2-D2 (platonic) chirps and beeps while wobbling on his outer legs to let you know he understands and is more than happy to support you. Although you can’t typically understand his noises, he still will sneakily change code in official documents or computer systems to reflect correct pronouns and if someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll use one of his little retractable arms to give them a little shock.

C-3PO (platonic) of course is aware of gender fluidity, but has never met someone like you – at least, not that he remembers before his memory was wiped. Ever since then, he’s been glued either to Leia or Luke’s side, so hasn’t had a chance to experience much outside of the chaotic workload the rebellion usually requires. But he’s so interested and excited to ask you questions if you’ll allow, but also makes sure to educate himself on his own. You have to hold back your laughter sometimes when he excitedly comes to you about some new piece of information he found as if you didn’t know it yourself – but of course, halfway through his excited ramble, he remembers who he’s talking to and goes “oh, I’m so terribly sorry” before offering to help you in any way he can, always interrupting and correcting people when needed, and if they don’t back down, telling them point blank “well, I think you’re rather rude.”

~~

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