#wait hold on from my own life experiences ? no it's not I don't know what I am talking about

[stars-and-clouds]

Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

[buckyalpine]

I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.

He’s selfish in giving and taking.

He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.

He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.

"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"

You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.

"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.

"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.

He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.

He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.

"Buck, you coming-?"

"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"

"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"

Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.

Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.

No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.

He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.

“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.

"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"

"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-

"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"

"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.

"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.

He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.

He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-

Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.

[cinnamonghost]

wahhh Idk how i feel about the collector leaving q___q

[ash-says]

Survival 101 :

Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.

1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.

2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.

3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.

4) Facts over emotions. Always.

5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.

6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.

7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.

8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.

9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.

10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.

11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.

12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.

13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.

14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.

15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

So I’m a minor (16 to be specific) and I frequently watch and read stuff with explicit sexual or 18+ content in it. I live in an extremely conservative Christian household and things like explicit fanfic are pretty much the only option I have for learning about sex that isn’t abstinence only. I do feel bad about it, especially when I see adults online say stuff like “oh i watched lots of inappropriate things as a teen that i really shouldn’t have” and it makes me feel like I’m ruining myself in a way that I won’t realize until I’m an adult? Right now I don’t see what the big deal is but i get the feeling that when i’m 24 or something I’ll wake up one day and be ashamed of this for some reason i’m not mature enough to know yet. Should I just stop and wait until I’m 18 to continue or what?

hi anon,

okay. I'm gonna hit you with something:

turning 18 does not actually change the way you feel about porn or sex or anything. the difference between being seventeen and 364 days and being 18 is nonexistent. there's not a magical switch that changes you as a person; that comes from lived experience. if you're 18 and your experience is still that porn and smut and what have you i something that you should feel bad about, it's still going to feel that way and a birthday won't change that.

look, the whole notion of "I saw [x] that I shouldn't have when I was young" is like. okay. so you saw something that was a little mature for you that you didn't quite get? awesome. did you die? no. most people's hangups about sexuality don't come from seeing a rogue titty when they were a teenager, they come from the culture that person was raised in that made seeing a rogue titty feel like something to be ashamed of instead of a completely natural part of life.

story time! when I teach my 4th-6th grade OWL classes (Our Whole Lives, great human development program) I always start by holding a meeting with the kids' parents. I've been doing this for seven years, and every time without fail some of the parents will recall seeing porn for the first time as a kid. these guys were kids when printed porn magazines were still a thing, so they were discovering them in all kinds of places - the bedrooms of their parents or their friends' parents, at bus stops, in the woods, once even stowed in some farm equipment. and they remember it feeling illicit and exciting, sure, and possibly making them confused or even horny for the first time in their young lives, but like... that's it. none of these people are irreparably damaged by seeing porn. in fact, they've grown up to be the kind of people who go out of their way to make sure their young kids are enrolled in a queer-friendly, body-positive, diversity-embracing sex ed class to counter stereotypes and misinformation they might receive elsewhere.

looking at things that arouse you is morally neutral. it can be a great way to help you learn about what turns you on, and even if it's not the best source of factual, realistic depictions of sex, it can still help you discover things - hell, I only figured out what the clitoris was by reading Young Justice fanfic (shout out Snaibsel).

you can't ruin yourself, at any age, with the media you like to consume. what makes you uncomfortable and anxious is the attitude you've been taught to have about that media, which is something that has to be actively unlearned, because it's certainly not going to just disappear on its own when you become a legal adult.

tl;dr obviously no one is making you watch porn and you shouldn't if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you drop it right now and come back when you're 18 don't expect to feel any different if you haven't done any more unpacking re: the conservative Christianity of it all.

[generalsmemories]

To raise a child

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)

✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing

✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.

✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.

The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.

"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.

"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"

Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.

To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.

Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:

"Decided to take the day off today <3"

Safe to say he was left on read.

"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.

Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.

The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.

"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.

Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.

And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.

But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.

... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?

Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."

So his name is Yanqing.

The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.

The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.

"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.

"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.

He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"

"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."

"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.

"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."

You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."

He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."

"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."

"See, you're already being a great parental figure."

Great parental figure my ass.

Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.

Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.

Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.

Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.

Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.

The odds are truly against you at the moment.

At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.

Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...

Were you always this awkward with children?

Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.

"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.

"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.

You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.

The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."

That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.

You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.

His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."

You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"

"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.

"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."

He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"

Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.

Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.

"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.

"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.

You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."

Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."

"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."

"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"

"Don't push your luck."

here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (3)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ still angst (but u can breathe now bc it’s the finale), brother’s best friend AND single dad au, jealousy, yearning from all angles, did i say angst alr (mom-wise and brother-wise), fluff, redemption ]

notes: this is it for the chronological series of fail-safe :-) from the bottom of my heart thank you so sooooo much for reading n loving!!! sharing fs with the lot of u is an experience (and era) i'll never forget!!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Your trip back home isn’t as rough as you expected it to be. 

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between coming home alone and coming home with Jungkook. There’s an irreplaceable weight in your chest that still flares even at the mention of Yoongi, the anger you have towards him mixing with the trepidation of holding everything in you, not just him, for another three days. There’s an angry rash around your fingertips just waiting for you to pick on your nails until they’re raw because atleast in that way, you get to forget the way Yoongi’s hand picked up yours in the dark.

There’s an ache in you that not even Yoongi and Hyewon could undo by never having met in the first place. It’s long been there, perhaps even older than Haneul. The ache of unfulfillment in you is bred by everything significant in your life — all from your first argument with your mom because of your lack of direction in life, to your latest heartbreak that keeps manifesting into your first ever.

You're no longer angry recounting the fact that you weren't destined for greatness. Namjoon turned out beyond great, world-renowned even, despite living in the same home that you did. Maybe it's not your environment or your lack of a passion that hindered you — maybe, it's just you alone.

Maybe, some part of you had ached too much from reaching (read: loving) too far up, you're doomed to live the rest of your life unfulfilled. Yoongi's never been yours, but the way your heart withdraws from him is as if he's always been.

You've done your share. You've completed your fill. You've worked yourself to the bone to make anything (not something, and certainly not everything) out of yourself that even if you're not decorated in sports like Namjoon nor celebrated in music like Yoongi, you have a fail-safe to fall back on.

You're earning more than the white collars you could recognize from your old yearbook and even if it's to look after someone, to look after Jungkook and his craft, and neither use your actual degree nor make a name out of yourself — a part of you feels fulfilled.

If being fulfilled meant being in the shadows as a manager; if it meant caring for someone in a professional context yet in a way you've always known with practice, with love, through the years– you'll take it.

You'll take the peace of being fulfilled without a trophy than to be listless trying to compete for first place.

You're fulfilled now to be sitting at the passenger seat of your own car because despite having never been to your place anymore, Jungkook fought with you in order to get his hands on the wheel.

You're fulfilled now, even if you only took Jungkook's silly suggestion (read: insistence) of fake-dating him just so you wouldn't have to face your family and Yoongi alone. You're fulfilled despite having no real place in neither men's lives.

Oddly enough, Jungkook wants to be both. He wants to be fulfilled and compete for first  place in a position in your life that he can't even say to your face.

Jungkook holds you right in the middle of the living room, his eyes wide and grin sparkling as if the director had already said action! and the task for him was to act out what being in love looked like, right in front of his female lead's family in her childhood home. (Read: he isn't acting at all.)

“And he’s…?” your mom lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face. 

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook onceagain with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat hours before his alarm was supposed to go off to cook dinner for everyone, even if it was only yourfavorite. The anxiousness that bubbled in his veins when he was asleep was going to burst and while Yoongi thought nothing of it initially, he realizes in panic that it was actually pointing to something. 

He woke up next to Haneul and he was placated momentarily, but the knot tied around his heart tightens twofold when he sees Hyewon on the same bed.

On your bed.

The guilt that filled Yoongi then was enough for the bile to creep up into his throat, making him stagger outside to find Namjoon pacing right outside of his own bedroom. His personal phone’s tucked in between his ear and his shoulder, his hands preoccupied scrolling through whatever it is on his work phone. Yoongi momentarily stops his panic to inquire why the hell Namjoon’s panicking and why did he just see a glimpse of your social media accounts pulled up to the screen, your following list staring your brother in the eyes.

“What? What happened? Is it Y/N?”

Namjoon only looked at him with nothing but pity and guilt, the resentment he had for himself bleeding through the way he shifted his gaze to him.

“She saw you and Hyewon.”

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep since.  

He didn’t even blink when Hyewon thanked him and said her goodbyes. He wasn’t even fazed when his ex-wife kissed Haneul goodbye and his son only resumed playing with his blocks. Yoongi hadn’t even tended to himself throughout the entire night, surrendering himself to be awake in your couch in the far event that you’d come home.

Yoongi wanted to follow you home, except almost exactly similar to the past, he had chased you out of what’s supposed to be your own home in the first place. The difference now was that he didn’t mean for Hyewon to be on your bed at all, let alone your room, but in the back of Yoongi’s thick skull — he figures that it won’t be enough for you.

Yoongi waits for you all night throughout the morning like a loyal dog waiting for its master, his chest rising up and down in hope yet his chin down in despondence. You do end up coming back home though, but your presence is neither unaccompanied nor for him.

With you is Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend.

If only Haneul hadn’t asked for his bottle to be brought upstairs because he’s watching cartoons on Yoongi’s laptop, he would’ve collapsed on the floor then and there, uncaring of the way everyone else would be looking down on him.

If only Namjoon’s gaze wasn’t flitting to him to gauge his reaction because it’s the first time he’s, or by everyone else rather, hearing that you have a boyfriend, Yoongi would put his hands on his head and curse until his piercing migraine suddenly disappears.

If only your mother wasn’t here, frozen in the kitchen mostly because of what you just revealed and who you came home with, and partly because she’s waiting for him to finish washing Haneul’s bottle, he would’ve thrown up right in the sink.

Yoongi gathers all his pain and keeps it shut within himself until he gets you alone, catching you by the staircase when everyone else has dispersed.

“I’m sorry. Namjoon told me what you saw and-…” he stops himself when you look up at him with an innocent yet empty gaze, the weight of it (or lack thereof) startling him. “Let me explain why Hyewon was there in your bed.”

“I don’t want to listen,” you enunciate clearly, keeping your voice down because both Jungkook and Haneul are a few steps away. You do it for their sake and not for Yoongi’s, the bitterness in your chest physically restricting you to think about his state.

Yoongi pushes on, breath already catching in his throat when you’re still stiff as a stone. You haven’t even made a break for it yet; he only unconsciously held onto you out of fear that you’ll be out of his sight. “She was in the area because her parents are old and they don’t know much about selling their house here a-and well, she knows that I did the same for my parents when they sold ours. Nothing happened. I just helped her with the sale! S-she was playing with Haneul in the living room while I napped a-and, I just… when I woke up, they were right next to me. Y/N, I swear, nothing-…”

You shake your head fervently, the innocence of his reason doing little to break the seal in your stomach. You feel it dropping once again and even if Yoongi’s right, even if he’s saying the truth, the sight alone of him appearing to be a part of a happy family jogs up all the pain.

“I don’t want to listen and you don’t have to explain either.”

“But I hurt you. That’s why I want to explain,” he stutters. Yoongi’s eyes are so glassy, you could see your reflection in them.

“Oh. So you know,” you whisper, teeth harshly digging into your bottom lip. “I hate Hyewon for a lot of things but not for being the mother of your child. That’s out of my reach. I get it. She’s his mom and that’s that,” you admit, the vacancy in your chest and on your ring finger reminding you what Yoongi had never given you the chance for. “What I hate is that you let her sleep in my room. Seeing Haneul in there is good. You and him? That’s okay because I let you sleep in there,” you heave, voice close to breaking because of how you force it to be tamped down. “I hate how you let her sleep in my room, Yoongi. I-I, I fucking hate it because it’s just like that time I caught you practically fucking her in my room.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-…” Yoongi sniffles, tears already pouring. The staircase in your house is far too narrow to hold the both of you, let alone your history. “I didn’t think. I didn’t notice, a-and, I didn’t think. I didn’t think at all, Y/N. I thought it was okay for a split second because we looked like-…”

“A family,” you finish for him. “I get it. I do,” you nod your head fervently, your own hand snaking to your lips to stop the sharp inhale that pains you from the inside. “Almost everyone loses their sense of reason when it comes to family.”

“I didn’t notice she already entered the room. But I-I woke up,” Yoongi still swears up and down, adamant on his truth that you aren’t open to entertaining because he’s hurt you far too many times before. “Hyewon and I… we’re not. We’re co-parenting.”

“Still a family.”

“But-…”

“What the hell do you want to hear from me, Yoongi?” you snap, voice finally toning down when you notice faint footsteps coming from the second floor. “Do you— do you want me to agree with you and say that the three of you aren’t a family? And for what, s-so that could somehow excuse you for everything you’ve done? I don’t even know what family’s supposed to mean at this point!”

From upstairs, Namjoon suppresses a sob.

“My mom doesn’t know a single thing about all of this. I-I can’t even cry to her because I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of protecting you, your son that she looks to as a grandson, a-and even your mom who’s her best friend,” you break into tears, ignoring the baby towel that Yoongi keeps on his person all the time that he offers to you. You sound far too defeated, and maybe you actually are, that Yoongi lets you push past him. “Meanwhile, my own brother probably knows everything but his first instinct is to protect you. Not me, his actual sibling. You.”

.

.

.

Namjoon had been waiting for you upstairs. He’s been barricading the door to the bathroom because he knows you can’t go to bed without your nightly shower, and because he knows that out of every space in the house, it must be the only one left wherein you can be truly alone with no hint of Yoongi.

“We have to talk,” he gets out as soon as you make eye contact with him, the towel that’s slung on your shoulder almost falling at the urgency to which he pulls you aside.

“It can wait.”

“I need to apologize,” he pleads once again, gripping your wrist gently like he had always done when you were kids to get you to listen to him.

“And I said it can wait. I can’t stand you right now,” you grit, the tears on your cheeks barely being dried up when Namjoon, unsurprisingly, decides to apologize to you within the same timeframe as Yoongi. They hadn’t planned it at all — the guilt and remorse weighed far too heavy for them to actually communicate.

“Where will you sleep?” he asks instead, exhaling heavily because you’re insistent on not crying again in barely your first night back, again. “Where will Jungkook sleep?”

“We’ll sleep together in a hotel.”

“Hotel?” Namjoon asks loudly, eyes bulging in shock. His voice is far too loud that everyone in the house (and maybe even your neighbors) must have heard him. “That’s nonsense. This is home, Y/N. You don’t have to book a hotel.”

“It is?” you seethe, your closed fists tightening on themselves painfully. “Did you also say the same thing to Hyewon? To Yoongi in the first place?”

“It’s my fault for-…”

You’re unaware that you and Namjoon are neck to neck until your mom chimes in out of nowhere, her gentle eyes asking more questions than she’s actually uttering. “What’s going on?” she switches her gaze between you and him. “Are the two of you fighting?”

“No,” you answer in unison, unable to fit a relieved sigh in between the terse silence.

“It’s nothing, mom,” Namjoon puts a hand on your shoulder, his smile tight and tense. “I was just telling Y/N that she doesn’t have to book a hotel.”

“Why would you book a hotel?” she gasps incredulously, her tone being the exact copy of Namjoon’s just a second ago.

“It’s just crowded in here, mom. That’s all,” you muster a sheepish smile, your posture slouching the more you realize that there’s no way out.

“I can ask Yoongi and Haneul to transfer to Namjoon’s so you can-..”

“No-!” you interrupt her in a hurry, breath hitching at the mention of him. “No, no. That’s unnecessary. I don’t want to sleep in my room.”

There’s a loaded pause between all of you, even between the door that Yoongi has his back on as he listens in.

“You and Jungkook can take my room instead,” Namjoon insists, his offer only barely scratching the surface of the apology that you truly deserve.

“Great. Thanks,” you conclude, already halfway into the bathroom when the sudden thought strikes you, your curiosity (and limit, by extension) getting the best of you to ask Namjoon while your mom’s still here. “How… how much longer are they gonna stay here?”

“I… haven’t asked yet,” Namjoon admits, the animosity you have towards Yoongi not going unnoticed by your mother.

“You need to ask then,” you quip. “This house is too small to have everyone and anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook woke up in peace from sleeping in a bed that isn’t his.

Even before you actually got to shower (and not just sit on the toilet seat whilst trying to compose yourself) since you forgot to retrieve your clothes from your suitcase, Jungkook was already starfished in the middle of Namjoon’s bed. It’s a touching sight atop your own blanket and bug spray that your brother put in for you.

The two of you are far from okay. As a matter of fact, the only people you’re truly okay with in the house is your mom and Haneul; despite knowing that fully, Jungkook still dived in head-first in the middle of your situation. You’ve tried to dissuade him all throughout the five-hour long car ride, and not once did he even budge.

He’s here for you and no one else. He’s snoring in the middle of your sibling’s bed whom you aren’t in good terms with. He’s at ease with you in a province that he’s never stepped foot in, all because he felt compelled to protect you somehow and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Jungkook cares for you, enough to write a note and place it beside him just before he went to sleep, telling you that he’s a messy sleeper and to either jolt him awake to move or just manhandle him to the side so you could also sleep on the bed.

You go for the latter, trying to pry him as gently as you could (but even if you just hauled him like a sack of potatoes, he still wouldn’t wake up because he’s at ease too much; it’s you, of course) before finally calling it a night.

You may have lied awake mulling over the perpetual ache in your chest, but you didn’t cry at all.

Eventually, you fall asleep to the sound of Jungkook snoring.

.

.

.

Jungkook may have slept earlier than you, but he makes sure that you stay in late. (read: he physically tucked you into bed so snugly, you probably can’t even shift your shoulders by a centimeter). He wants to pull his weight around a house he hasn’t even been in, even if you hadn’t asked him to — you’d never do, because even as a manager and not as a fake-girlfriend, you don’t let him lift a single finger. Simply put, Jungkook feels this massive pull, not to perform for you, but serve you.

He finds himself quietly going down the stairs, still in his socks because you had stolen his house slippers just last night and he doesn’t have the heart to ask you to give them back. He’s quickly figured out the kitchen, getting a soup started before he allows himself to sit on the dining table by himself.

It turns out that Jungkook’s not alone at all.

“Hi.”

His ears perk at the soft voice that comes from the side of him, eyes immediately setting on the toddler who’s still dressed in his pajamas and has a similar case of bedhead to him.

“Hey buddy. Nice bangs,” Jungkook chuckles invitingly, pulling out a chair for Haneul to which he gets up on easily by himself. 

“My appa cut them for me,” he answers with a smile, shyly pointing to Jungkook’s forehead with an eager finger. “You have bangs too. Who cut yours?”

“My girlfriend. I think she can be a hairstylist one day,” he hums, not feeling guilty over lying to him when it’s only a half, easily-corrected lie. You may not be Jungkook’s actual, real girlfriend, but you did cut his bangs when he asked you to. He couldn’t be bothered going to the salon and you didn’t have the energy to argue with him otherwise, so that’s how he ended up with choppy, viral (it only became viral because he has them) bangs that gained him a few dozen articles or so.

Jungkook doesn’t have kids of his own, but what he does have are several nephews and nieces. He’s the youngest of four children, and that’s perhaps the reason why he could empathize with you. He’s never been through what you have, and although you would never wish for him to do so, a part of him wants to know what it’s like — not because he seeks the pain, but because he wants to know how he could empathize with you better

With Jungkook being Jungkook, it’s perhaps the reason why he’s one of the gifted few people who could strike up a sensible conversation with a toddler and make them laugh without doing anything at all.

Something about Jungkook makes Haneul laugh so loudly, he wakes up almost everyone in the house in peace. Even Jungkook’s attempt at lame jokes tickle Haneul more than the way Namjoon’s ever tried in earnest to make him laugh.

You’ve already slinked past the two of them on the dining table, tending to the soup and the few hundred side dishes Jungkook started on but paused just to talk to Haneul.

“Haneul, don’t believe your uncle-…” you chime over a playful dig that Jungkook makes in your expense, the giggles that had only been filling your ears just seconds ago instantly ceasing when you notice Yoongi standing near you.

“Uncle?” he raises his brow at you, turning his attention to his son. “Haneul, what did I say about talking to strangers?”

“But he’s not a stranger. I saw him in that movie!” he frowns, the immediate awe that slips out of Jungkook’s lips not helping his case in the slightest.

“Still a stranger,” Yoongi smiles tightly, his exhale dragging out as he mulls over the eerily domestic sight of the three of you.

“But he’s Uncle Kook,” Haneul reasons with him, pointing his finger at you. “He’s auntie’s boyfriend.”

.

.

.

Yoongi’s softened a little bit since breakfast.

He was never mad at Haneul in the first place (more like halfhearted because he still stands by his lesson of not teaching him to talk to strangers, even if they’re a worldwide-famous actor, but those are not his words at all) but what he is annoyed about is the scene that he walked into.

It looked far too natural for you to look like Haneul’s mom and for Jungkook to look like him, maybe even better as a dad despite not having children at all, that he thought he was seeing red.

Haneul’s lying on his shoulder as they rewatch Bluey for the second time in the living room, the shadow of your alleged boyfriend walking past him until he registers the accent, later doing a quick turnaround that makes Yoongi ultimately irritated and Haneul more than happy.

“Oh cool. I love Bluey!” Jungkook says sincerely, inviting himself to sit on the lone sofa chair to watch the episode.

“Wow, you’re just so… quirky,” Yoongi mutters under his breath with a roll of his eyes, his snarky remark making Jungkook’s ears tingle. The latter scoffs slyly, making him finally acknowledge Jungkook, albeit sarcastically. “So what do you do, Jungkook?”

Even before he could answer though, Haneul does it for him with an excitement that only comes out whenever he’s talking about his favorites.

“We watched his movies in the cinema, appa! Remember?”

“Did we?” Yoongi narrows his eyes, playing his huff into a cough. He repurposes the tinge of embarrassment that he feels into snark, running a hand through his hair cockily. “I’d for sure remember an actor if they were good.”

( ♡ ) 

“Where’s your brother? I need him to do the heavy lifting.”

Your mom asks you with an urgency that parents only past the age of forty could possess, her lips already parted awaiting your response towards a question she asked just two seconds ago. 

Even if you weren’t engrossed on an episode of Bluey (Jungkook and Haneul put you into it and you get their laser focus now) just now, you still wouldn’t know about your brother’s whereabouts. Yoongi saves you this time, his response piquing both yours and Jungkook’s interest.

“He’s in practice. Joon took Haneul with him so he could learn too.”

Jungkook looks up from his phone sharply, eyes wide in eagerness. He and Yoongi haven’t even looked at each other since yesterday yet their coordination (read: competitiveness) syncs with the other at the exact second, their insistence on tagging along a menial task making you jolt.

“I’ll come with, mom!”

“I’ll come with, auntie.”

It’s not a competition, yet Jungkook jumps up to stand so quickly, his head almost brushed the ceiling. “Let’s go, babe,” he holds out a hand for you, making you clear your throat as you’re still trying to gauge the situation.

“But what about Yoongi? Poor thing, he’ll be left alone,” your mom awes, her pout only deepening when Yoongi pretends to look crestfallen at being overlooked. He doesn’t have to pretend that much because despite not being the biggest fan of grocery-shopping, especially in your area because it always smelled of eggs despite barely carrying any eggs, he’ll jump at any task to impress your mom, and you by extension.

“I don’t think you should worry-…” you start, already being interrupted in an instant.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Two pairs of hands are better than one! They really have to do some heavy lifting because I forget to tell you about that one time your aunts hounded me for-…” she trails off while telling you a story about your supposedly huge extended family, blissfully unaware that there’s two men fighting to open the door for the both of you.

Yoongi’s driving his car as the most spacious option, making Jungkook snicker under his breath as he blames himself for not bringing his SUV which is clearly more expensive than whatever Yoongi’s driving, even if you elbow him lightly by the ribs because you didn’t ask him to do that.

“Mom, what are you doing here? Go sit in the front,” you nudge her, unwilling to sit next to Yoongi in an enclosed space.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I was just used to you always taking shotgun whenever Yoongi’s driving,” she squeals, fondly clapping to herself as she revisits the memory. “Do you remember that, sweetheart? You’d always fight with Namjoon because Yoongi got his license first.”

It may only be your mom who’s leaning against the center console to look at you in the back, but it doesn’t mean that Yoongi’s ever taken off his attention from you.

“I remember,” Yoongi smiles, looking at you from the rearview mirror. “I never forget.”

.

.

.

The grocery store hasn’t changed one bit. 

It still smelled of eggs, the lights still aren’t as bright as they should be, and there’s still trinkets that you’ve always been swayed by being displayed near the register.

You’re taking it all in after not having been back for five years, whereas Yoongi strolls right in, but never ahead of you, as if he’s visited multiple times already since he left your town. 

Your mom and Jungkook are side by side as he asks her a question you can’t even discern, only getting to know his actual agenda when you hear his sneakers skidding against the floor as he runs towards the pushcarts. 

Yoongi, without even knowing the full context, runs after him because he didn’t want to come in second place for whatever it is that Jungkook’s challenging him to.

“I’ll steer the cart,” Jungkook presents definitively, his hand raised mid-air as if he’s being graded for eagerness alone. He looks like he wants to prove himself even if it’s only you and your mom present; no director, no producer in sight who sizes him up. 

“No. I’ll do it,” Yoongi argues out of nowhere, his bruised hands reclaiming the cart under Jungkook’s grasp. He’s not even looking at your mom because his gaze is only fixed on Jungkook who’s just two tugs away from actually spitting at him.

“I said it first,” your pretend-boyfriend forcefully pulls the hunk of metal away from Yoongi, the latter coming along with it for the briefest of seconds before he does the same, this time with Jungkook gasping.

“What, are you method-acting for your next role as a cart-steerer?” 

Your mom’s a little perplexed at the scene before her, lips parting in both concern and amusement because for a pair of people who haven’t met each other before, Yoongi and Jungkook are oddly competitive. They want to provesomething, anything, and maybe everything so bad, they neglect the fact that they look ridiculous fighting over a pushcart. 

“We actually need two,“ she says to no one in particular, thinking out loud as she goes through her grocery list. “I think maybe even three because-…”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook rushes out in panic, almost bumping into you in the process. You were only gone for a minute to retrieve your phone from the car and yet he already looks breathless, the knot between his eyebrows untangling when he realizes that it’s you. “Oh. Sorry, babe.”

“I’ll get it, Koo,” you murmur, catching the tail end of what your mom said about the pushcarts. Jungkook’s cheeks are tainted pink in frustration and you can’t help but to be concerned, the back of your hand already flitting against his forehead before you know it. “Are you okay? Sorry, the AC in here is not like the AC in the city.”

“Huh, what? Oh no, it’s okay. I just got into this heated cart argument,” he waves you off, eyes rapidly moving between you, your mom, and Yoongi who’s mirroring his exact actions, except for the glaring hint of annoyance with the way he’s standing so close to you.

“Cart argument? What’s-…”

“We need meat.” 

You barely even have a chance to digest what Jungkook’s saying to you before you see him glitch right in front of you in a hurry, the only words to register clearly in your mind being your mom’s. She’s absent-mindedly talking herself through her grocery list (as she always does) and yet the two men right next to her hang onto her every word, the speed they take off on giving you no clue to why they’re acting as such.

“I’ll get it, auntie!” Yoongi gets out even before the wheels of his cart could cooperate, momentarily tripping over himself. Jungkook sputters at that, the laughter that builds in his throat being interrupted because he realizes that the other guy is ahead of him and he simply cannot bear that. 

“Beef. We need beef, right, mom? How many kilos. Like… ten? Okay. I’ll get it!” Jungkook dashes even if he’s never been in this grocery store before; even if your mom hasn’t said a single word to either of them.

You’re left dumbfounded in the middle of the store, your gaze unable to locate the distinct sounds of both of their sneakers skidding against the floor. 

“I didn’t even say anything,” your mom mutters in confusion, eyes flitting to you with a wonder you can’t place because even if the both of you are lost, she seems to have a better idea than you do. “Are they… competing over you, sweetie?”

“Competing? Me? Why would you even say that, mom?” you huff, leaning against the cart as you snatch her list to get the things she’s actually looking for.

“I don’t know,” she lulls, shrugging carelessly before nudging you. “Jungkook’s your boyfriend and well, I assume Yoongi’s always wanted to be in his position.”

“How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“Small town. Few people. Cute girl, cute guy,” she places, the end of her hypothesis being accompanied by a chuckle. When she says it like that, it sounds far too easy — it sounds far too seamless, you almost wish it was exactly that. “I didn’t even take the news that Yoongi was going abroad seriously because I thought it was a joke. I thought he could never move on from here or Namjoon,” your mom pouts, tilting her head when you freeze. “Much more, he could never move on from you.”

“He did,” you answer through gritted teeth, the grip you have on her list making the paper crumple underneath your hold.

Your mom doesn’t know everything. In fact, you don’t even know if she knows anything at all. You don’t despise her for her lack of involvement because you want to keep her from the chaos of your burdens, and you’ve always wanted to keep it that way.

But the way she speaks now, so full of conviction and faith, you find yourself despising it. She speaks as surely as the way Yoongi speeds past the both of you, weaving through aisles to get items she didn’t ask for, competing for and against a higher power (read: you) that Jungkook himself seeks. 

She says it so surely, it’s as if she knows about every waking thought that Yoongi’s ever had in your absence.

“It doesn’t look like he did.”

You ponder over your mom’s adoration for Yoongi, most of which you can’t decipher if it’s misplaced or not. You know he’ll always have a special place in her heart and in her home because she’s known him even before he was born because she’s best friends with Mrs. Min. 

Yoongi has a place in your life, no matter if it’s in your own or in the lives of the people you love. He probably has a modern penthouse in Namjoon’s life, the decoration in it improving over time. On the other hand, Yoongi probably occupies an ancestral cabin in your mom’s life that’s been well-maintained for longer than he’s ever been alive, the decor in it being handmade and resilient through the years. 

In your life, however, you can’t tell how and if Yoongi occupies it in the first place. For the longest time, his place in your life had come in the form of a mansion that not even a single architect nor engineer could ever think of. For a moment too, Yoongi’s place in your heart came in the form of a little house on a vast farm overlooking the mountains and the sea. Throughout all the houses that Yoongi’s shape-shifted to in your life, you doubt now if he could ever turn into them again.

When you think of Yoongi, all you see is your room. 

When you see Yoongi, all you could remember is your childhood house and its shortcomings in your life, especially when you needed to come home to it— to him, the most.

“I’ll pay, mom,” Jungkook snaps you out of your reverie, his whine making your ears ring.

“What? No, Jungkook. This is all too much,” you refuse vehemently, trying to fight him from extending his black card any further.

“It’s not. This is for your family anyway. I, I might have even grabbed extra portions for myself because mom said she’ll repeat tomorrow what she did for lunch today,” he grins, momentarily losing himself to the sight of you that he doesn’t even notice he’s in the process of being one-upped by Yoongi.

“Jungkook, baby, I’ll feel-…”

“I paid for it, auntie,” Yoongi announces, making your lips part and Jungkook’s jaw drop.

“You shouldn’t have, Yoongi,” you scold him softly, a whine already building at the back of your throat but he waves you off easily. Your mom’s thanking him profusely in the background, and while Yoongi’s pleased with the attention, his gaze remains on you.

“But I wanted to,” he insists, pursing his lips. “I should.”

“You’re not family,” is what you want to say.

“But I want to be,” is what he wants to scream.

Wordlessly, Yoongi puts a plastic toy ring he bought from the register into your bag. It’s pink and it’s star-shaped, its mold still the same from all those years ago.

.

.

.

You barrel into your mom’s room just to see Namjoon.

You bit at the chance of giving him the stuff he’s asked for from the grocery as per your mom, taking advantage of her focus on organizing the groceries downstairs to have a one-on-one with your brother.

“You have to make Yoongi drive into the city tonight. Either that or he flies to the US. The reunion is already tomorrow,” you seethe, crossing your arms as he sighs in defeat.

“It’s already late. Yoongi’s driving with Haneul, a kid, alone,” he emphasizes, running a hand through his hair as he himself is troubled by you being in a bind over everything. “And he can’t book a flight back on such short notice.”

“Short notice? What, did he just happen to book a one-way flight and not a round trip one?” you snort in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief. The thought actually cracks you up because out of the three of you, Yoongi happened to be the one more adept to websites despite your limited materials back then. Namjoon remains silent, and with how serious he looks, your face falls.

You can’t believe Yoongi at all.

“He did? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joon,” you groan, throwing your head back. “What, does that mean Yoongi gets to stay in our home while we’re in this godforsaken family reunion?”

Namjoon delivers yet another blow, his revelation making you more enraged than the last.

“Mom invited them.”

“What? Why?!” you exclaim, chest rising in frustration. “Yoongi’s not family, Namjoon. Atleast not for me.”

He doesn’t miss your added remark at the end of your sentence, the underhandedness of it making him look down on the floor. 

Namjoon feels guilty, he really does, but he can’t seem to make it right. He couldn’t even fight you in insisting to apologize that night.

For each day that you try to delay the inevitable of confronting him and letting him taking the fall, of letting him apologize, Namjoon feels more like a big failure for an older brother than he already is. 

“But he used to be,” he says under his breath, looking up at you with a stubbornness you can’t place. “Your lifetime versus those five years — which one amounts to more?”

( ♡ ) 

Everyone gushes over Jungkook.

In an altitude higher than the mountainside that you’re in now, the aunts, uncles, and cousins you didn’t even know you have squeal over your fake boyfriend. By the fifth relative, you’ve already got your routine down of letting them hug you and kiss your cheek before holding Jungkook’s bicep, acting as his bodyguard to make sure they don’t squeeze him too hard or not at all.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook is your boyfriend?!”

“I knew it, I knew you were gonna have a partner who’s famous! I dreamed about it when you were-…”

“If that’s your boyfriend, then who’s he?” your cousin (?) whispers to you, cutting himself off as he turns his gaze to Yoongi and Haneul. They’re most certainly not your family, meaning that they’re unrelated to everyone present, so what your relatives (some more nosy than others) can’t wrap their heads around is the fact that there are strangers in your family reunion.

It takes one, two times for your mom and Namjoon to explain who they are and what they’re doing here in the first place, the chorus of nods eventually signaling that they’ve moved on. Some of them could even recall Mr. and Mrs. Min from the neighborhood, and Yoongi could only nod.

It’s not that he doesn’t belong right now — he actually feels the opposite. Yoongi feels that he has a place amongst a barrage of relatives he’s not affiliated to by neither blood nor paper, and it pains him; not because he’s scared of belonging, but because you probably don’t think the same way.

Haneul runs to him underneath the umbrella he’s isolated himself at, his son grasping an assortment of cash, food, and juiceboxes Yoongi most certainly did not pack in Haneul’s backpack from the night before.

“Auntie’s family is really nice, appa. Look what they gave me,” he shows everything that his hands could carry, breathing heavily in excitement as he explains that your relatives told him to come back once his hands are empty.

“Oh dear. They really think you’re adorable,” he laughs, pocketing Haneul’s cash (he swears he’ll give it back) and hiding some of the snacks he’s been given so he wouldn’t give himself heartburn eating too many at once.

Yoongi’s smiling from ear to ear, sitting Haneul in his lap as he overlooks the view of your town from above. Everything looks so small and delicate, you’d almost think none of what laid downhill ever even mattered. He didn’t get views like these in New York. 

Yoongi didn’t get people like you in New York.

“Mama’s family isn’t this nice,” Haneul speaks out of nowhere, his thoughts uttered out loud directed more-on to himself than it is for his dad. Yoongi stops in his tracks in trepidation, shoulders tensing over what his son just said. “They never play with me like this. Not like auntie.”

He knows Hyewon’s relatives, albeit not that well. Her family members in the US were not this kind, not this warm, even to a child who’s actually related to them.

Yoongi’s stuck in his thoughts the whole time Haneul sips on his juice, finally being snapped into his reality nowwhen you approach their direction. His son waves at you excitedly even if you’ve just crossed paths minutes ago.

“Here, Haneul,” you hold out a container to him, the gentle smile on your face limited to only him yet Yoongi, for a lack of grace, pretends it’s also for him. “I tried my best to make it look like Bluey,” you chuckle, pointing to the mini sculpture made out of the marshmallows and blueberries that your relatives set aside for him.

Haneul beams at you, thanking you profusely. If only he wasn’t sat on Yoongi’s lap and therefore grounded, he would’ve launched himself at you to hug your legs.

Yoongi takes the hat right off his head, putting it on you while you’re crouched next to his son.

“It’s hot,” he explains, his heart continuously speaking beats the longer that you linger beside Haneul and the longer that he giggles in excitement. “I know you get headaches easily.”

( ♡ ) 

Despite being reachable, Yoongi still yearns for you.

He yearns for you even if you’re only within arm’s reach, sitting near you but never close enough at the long table because with you, he feels safe. He laughs in the background like it’s a sitcom to every joke and every episode of banter thrown around him. He doesn’t feel out of place with your family — he feels out of place with you.

He’s never been a wickedly jealous type. Even when he and Hyewon were still together and she cheated on him, Yoongi felt more resentful than he was jealous. He didn’t feel this type of way; he didn’t feel inferior. He didn’t feel like he was nursing a loss in his life because he has no choice but to. Yoongi had managed to divorce Hyewon because it didn’t work out between them, and that was that.

Yoongi can neither divorce you nor pull away from you because you’ve never been with each other. He harbors no resentment for you and that scares him, not because he wants to hate you so badly, but because he feels as if everything you’ll do to him, he’ll take it.

Yoongi will take it even if you set a plate for Jungkook despite unconsciously forgetting what he’s always disliked eating when you were still kids. He’ll take the serving tray from your hands still, uncaring if eating the tiniest bite of the food you’ve passed gives him an allergic reaction because you were the one who offered.

He’ll take it even if you hold Jungkook’s bicep in a hurry when there’s a bug that’s getting awfully close to your drink. Yoongi would walk to where you sit and dispose of it wordlessly because even Jungkook himself is scared of bugs. He doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him, because atleast now when he looks at you from a distance, you’re sitting in relaxation and you no longer have to hold your boyfriend.

He’ll endure the jealousy that burns through his throat more than the poorly-made, highly-alcoholic vodka your uncle made himself. He’ll hold onto the poison that is yearning and how he’ll feel like his throat would close up because if you were still young, in this setting of free rein, except you were still in love him like you used to be and he’s in love with you like he is now, neither you and Yoongi would be hurting.

Yoongi will take it. He’ll take the nothing that you give him and give you the everything that you don’t ask for anymore.

Five years versus the rest of your lifetime that you spent being in love with him is only miniscule. The suffering that he’s going through now is only a speck of the years you’ve spent in an unrequited love.

Unlike you, Yoongi’s weak. If he were to say it outloud to you, you’ll never agree because you’ve never regarded yourself otherwise. You’ll go on this tangent that you’ve always been weak, influenced by the times that Yoongi had chastised you for your lack of a passion. 

To you, Yoongi had been right in a way.

To Yoongi, he’s always been in the wrong.

He’s crying to you now that the both of you are alone, overlooking the small town he used to be keen on getting out of. Now, more than ever, Yoongi wants to stay in it. He wants to stay with you.

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most. 

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife. 

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop becausethat’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

“I love you,” he says it far too clearly for someone who’s drunk; far too sincerely for someone who had spent the better part of his life putting it through your head that he can’t return your affection. “I’ve always loved you.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t feel good.

There’s a fever that’s starting to bloom from the base of your skull all the way to your toes, the abnormal warmth you feel in your chest making you unable to interact with everyone else outside of your room. Jungkook had left with your uncles before dawn to go fishing in the nearby lake and never would you think to inconvenience him; to tend to someone like you for something as minor as a fever, or for anything at all.

You already have a system down for taking care of yourself when you’re ill. It started when neither your mom nor your brother were home with you, and it was finally perfected when you had to live completely alone in the big city. All you had to do was gather all the energy you have, spend it at the start to get everything you could possibly need and put them all at the side of your bed, and rest until everything no longer hurts.

The major flaw with your system now is that you don’t have the energy at all. You can’t build up the strength to get up, walk across the hall and interact with your relatives, and rummage through groceries to get what you need without being questioned; you can’t build up the sense of importance you have for yourself to ask for help.

Namjoon comes into your room before you could dance around the idea of asking him to get you water, all because he has this innate sense of guilt in him and you could utilize it to your advantage. Your brother gets ahead of you before you could even register that he’s here with you, his eyes sullen and pleading.

“Can we talk?”

“I can’t exactly storm off right now,” you rasp, your voice fading out into a low chuckle.

“Do you want to talk when you’re able to storm off?” he asks sincerely with a small smile, his hand fixing your hair as gently as he could without making your migraine ring further. “If you do though, then you probably might never hear me out again.”

You stay silent because he is right, but Namjoon feels otherwise. He feels as if he hasn’t been doing anything right at all and you existing separate from him is a constant reminder. His career is at its peak but he thinks he could go higher; his relationship with you is deteriorating and he doesn’t think it could possibly be worse.

“I’m sorry for being a shitty brother,” he apologizes, the first thing out of his mouth being the last thing that floods his mind before he goes to sleep at night. “I should’ve never defended Yoongi, even Hyewon by extension.”

The heat behind your eyes isn’t all from your fever. The tears that prick your eyes aren’t because of the pressure in your head, but because of the fact that you haven’t heard Namjoon apologize to you in a long time; you haven’t talked this sincerely for even longer

“I should’ve put you first,” he sniffles, muttering apologies in between his pauses for finding the right words that would make it okay; that would somehow undo all that he’s been an accomplice to. “I should’ve been this reliable, sturdy man of the house. I-I should’ve been more of a father figure to you-…”

“Don’t,” you interject sternly. “You never filled in his shoes and you should never will. You’re only mom’s son and my brother, Namjoon. It’s never been your job to raise me.”

Even after everything, there’s a gentleness to you that Namjoon’s always loved but hate the most now. He hates that even if he’s the one who’s apologizing, you’re the one who’s saying sorry for the things you didn’t even inflict on him. Neither of you wanted to be raised by only a single parent, yet you absolve him of the guilt he’s always felt.

“But I could’ve been better. I wish I was already better from the start.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think how hard life was for you growing up. I-I would’ve given up football if only-…” he trembles, unable to get the last of his sentence out because you shake your head in earnest.

“Stop.”

“But I mean it. If only I-I didn’t get into football, I could’ve been there for you and mom much often. I could’ve been better and-...”

“But I grew up to be okay, didn’t I? You’re the best at what you do. We’ve managed to retire mom early because we put in the work,” you whisper, the shrug of your shoulders feeling more heavy that it should feel because the words don’t come out easily from you. 

“But okay shouldn’t have been enough for you,” Namjoon tears up, bottom lip trembling as you try to take in his words that you’ve always wanted to hear at the back of your mind; you hear them now when you’ve already grown up. You hear them now after you’ve already endured the grief. “I— we should’ve given you the fighting chance to grow up more than okay.”

.

.

.

It’s not Jungkook who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because you’ve temporarily banned him from the bedroom. He only pouted in complaint when you called him, but he didn’t fight you that much either because you’ve called him out for the excitement in his voice to go hiking for the first time.

It’s not Yoongi who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because Haneul asked him to teach him Go (he’s not even that good at it and being the ever unable to show incompetence and have pride especially when Jungkook’s watching father, he discreetly asked lessons from your mom) so he’ll be able to play with your cousins.

Instead, it’s your mom who visits you. Even if Namjoon hadn’t tipped her off that you were feeling under the weather, she’s already had a feeling this morning.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks, her hands full of everything you could possibly need and more before plopping them at your side. She makes you sit up even before you could complain, handing you a drink with some medicine you didn’t even know she carried

“Just a little fever,” you answer, getting back into your cocoon. 

You don’t even attempt to make conversation because you fear that you don’t have it in you to have a heart-to-heart talk with your mom just minutes after you’ve had one with Namjoon.

You don’t even say anything to her except your thanks. Namjoon didn’t even tell her about your conversation, even if he approached her with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes while saying that it was just allergies.

Your mom feels the guilt spring to her chest even if you don’t utter a single word. She feels the remorse in her eyes when you don’t ask her for anything more. She feels the guilt the most in her hands when you don’t ask her to stay.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like there wasn’t enough space for your burdens growing up.”

“What?”you scramble to get up in a seated position, eyes hazy from how quick you do it. “Mom, you scared me. Where’s this coming from?” 

She shakes her head at your cluelessness, eyes stinging when you genuinely look at her innocently. You don’t know what she’s talking about, even if the thought has plagued her for so long.

“You’re not really okay, are you?”

“It’s… just a fever,” you mumble, your breathing already trembling at the way she looks at you.

She’s looking at you like you’re still a kid; ever so fragile and innocent, it’s as if she wouldn’t let a single thing in this world harm you. She doesn’t know a single thing about your feud with Namjoon and your long drawn-out conflict with Yoongi. What your mom does know is that she doesn’t know a single thing about the heartbreak you suppress, and that thought alone makes her hiccup in tears.

“You’re right, you know? Our house is small,” she says, distinctly recalling the tensioned conversation you had with Namjoon back at home. “It’s tiny but it was far too big for you growing up alone,” she inhales sharply, trying not to sob in front of you. “He wasn’t in the picture. I was working a hundred jobs left and right. Namjoon was trying to make a name for himself,” she shakes her head, so much so that the necklace she’s had since you were children, the same one with yours and Namjoon’s birthstones on it, rattles. “I’m sorry for making you feel that you can’t come to me.”

In just a full day, you’ve heard everything that you’ve ever wanted. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted during the school plays where you had no one from your family, except Yoongi, to watch you become an extra up on stage. He’d always deny that he did show up for you and just say that it’s because he was genuinely interested in a play about a poet he didn’t care about in reality, but you take it nonetheless.

It’s everything you’ve ever prayed for watching Yoongi live a life far too advanced for you as he held Hyewon’s hand after school. It’s what you wanted to hear when you begged him not to leave you behind.

“I-I’m okay. I’m really-…” you stutter, looking away before your tears fall in the fear that they’ll never stop.

Your mom only hugs you tighter.

“I’m here if you want someone else to carry your burdens,” she whispers. “I’m here now.”

( ♡ )

It’s the last day of the reunion when you fully recover, and it’s hours ahead of everyone when Jungkook has to leave by himself.

Without even asking for it, Jungkook grants you another week’s worth of break. You didn’t even plan on asking, yet Jungkook’s willing to give you a month if only you do. 

You’ve already arranged for his personal driver to pick him up and take him back to the city. You’ve already packed his bags, along with the multiple containers of food that your relatives (and especially your mom) insisted for him to take. You’ve arranged for your substitute to take care of him for his schedules throughout the week, along with the insistent reminder to call you whenever Jungkook needs you. (Read: he does, with or without a schedule.)

Everything is set for Jungkook to leave except for his driver who’d been roped by your mom to be filled with breakfast first, yet with the remaining minutes left, Jungkook’s still with you on your bed. 

He lies on your lap even if there’s plenty of space for him to lie parallel to you on a pillow — and you let him.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” he asks in the middle of you texting your substitute, the randomness of his thought already being familiar to you. This time, unlike the few thousand times he’s ever asked you something straight off his mind without refining them, is different.

It’s different now because your pretend-boyfriend asks you if you’ve ever thought about kissing him, while looking like he really wants to kiss you.

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, looking down on him on your lap. 

Not once does Jungkook ever look away from you.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, pointing up at you. “Your lips are close to bleeding and it’s bothering me.”

“Sorry for turning you off,” you snort in laughter, wiping at the tiny specks of blood. Jungkook tuts when you rub at them, feeling for his lip balm out of his pocket.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stresses, going a little cross-eyes when he applies them for you. His eyes keep goading you, the smile he has on his face widening the more that you look at him incredulously. “Sooo… have you?”

You don’t want to lie to him at all.

“If I answer yes, Jungkook,” you toy around with his hair, setting your phone face-down because you can’t focus on anything else now. “We can never come back from that.”

Jungkook laughs in glee so loudly, Yoongi (who was only passing by; he really, really swears he didn’t just happen to eavesdrop in your room because Jungkook’s driver is all done eating and wants to beat traffic) actually flinches.

Jungkook strains to be closer to you, unconsciously training you to lean down. His lips are far too soft — far too close to you, you could see every line and every nuance in them. He whispers, eyes practically crossing at your proximity.

“And is that such a bad thing?”

( ♡ ) 

You’re back at home when Jungkook texts you that he’s made it back safe, and that he wants to kiss you again.

You’re back at home when Yoongi asks you if he could use the bathroom first because Haneul spilled milk on him during the drive. You’re in your childhood bedroom when you let him clean up first, and you’re sitting on your childhood bed when you volunteer to put Haneul down because he’s cranky and for some reason, wants to be held by you.

You’re back at home too when Yoongi and Haneul are knocked out for the night, and your mom calls you and Namjoon down for all three of you to talk at the dining table.

You’re back at the home you were raised in, sitting on the dining table that’s creaky when more than two people lean their weight into it, in the space you’ve roamed around alone waiting for them to come home, when your mom talks about wanting to sell it.

“You want to sell?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, exchanging a glance with you who’s as equally surprised as he is.

“Yes. It’s under my name, y’know? Not that… man’s,” she snorts, the off-hand mention of your father making you and Namjoon laugh unexpectedly. Your mom looks at ease as she talks about selling your house, the smile she has one her face being shaped with experience and grace. “I doubt the both of you would want to keep this, and besides, the offers I’ve kept for years now are high. You already know that big-shot companies have been buying out houses here for years now because of the growth potential and whatnot. Who knows, maybe our block will be turned into a mall!” she shrugs, the happiness in her tone infectious. 

For someone who’s decided on letting go the house she’s both struggled and strived in, your mom’s beyond excited.

For two adults, who were once kids, who’ve seen the amount of sacrifices your mother’s put into the place by herself, you and Namjoon don’t have any objections.

“Also, consider this as me asking for permission to go on a vacation, even if I’m grown, because some people get so paranoid when I don’t answer calls,” she digs at you and your brother, immediately inciting coughs because you two, in fact, are guilty of worrying over your mom too much. “I’m going on this worldwide trip with Yoongi’s mom,” she grins, pulling out one last surprise. “We’ve talked about it since we were young. She’s earned her stripes working abroad, I managed to raise two amazing children as a single mom. We’ve earned it, I think.”

You and Namjoon share a glance once again, this time more definite than the last. You’ve made up already as far as your mom could tell, and that confirmation is what she needs before finally selling the house you all grew up in.

“You’ve earned it more than anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s packing up for their flight tonight when you go into your room to pack up the life you’ve lived there.

“You’re coming with me and Haneul?” Yoongi jokes when he sees you pulling out your own luggage, the tone of his voice highly suggesting for you to become serious. He gets you to smile and that’s big enough of a win as is, the remainder of it more than substantial to hold onto when he’s away from you. Again.

“No, unfortunately. I’m packing up the room and eventually… the whole house,” you answer with a chuckle, voice trailing off when you see the crestfallen look on Yoongi’s face. He looks like someone who’s just absorbed the largest pain to man as he’s trying not to make it obvious. “We’re posting it for sale two weeks from now.”

Yoongi nods tightly, inhaling sharply as he tries to maintain his steady tone. “Then why are you packing up already?”

You could do this tomorrow. As a matter of fact, you could do it tonight because you don’t have to drive them to the airport. You have all the time in the world within two weeks to do this, yet you go into your room now when Yoongi’s still in it.

When Yoongi still hasn’t left, and neither of you know when you’re gonna see each other next.

“I have to get a move on. If I don’t move now,” you trail, voice close to trembling as you open cabinets you’ve never even given the time of day before. “I’m scared that I’ll keep holding onto this house.

Yoongi nods, even if he fully understands — even if he doesn’t want to swallow what you’re saying.

“You want out?”

“We want out — me, mom, Namjoon,” you explain, looking at him properly for the first time since he told you that he loved you. “For the longest time, we’ve held onto this place because we became this house at one point. Namjoon’s this world star, my mom’s traveling the world with your mom-…”

“Oh, they’re finally doing it?” Yoongi interrupts, a smile finally coming to his face at the news. He hasn’t talked to his mom in a month from how busy he’s been, and although he’s always missed her (even if they’re on much better terms than he and his dad could be), he’s happy knowing that your moms have each other atleast. “How about you? What will you be doing?”

“I’ll just be… living day-to-day. I’m not doing anything extremely special, but I’m happy and busy doing it,” you laugh, looking around your room that hasn’t appeared this clean, this warm, since you last stayed in it. “No one’s going to be around here anymore.”

As if on cue, Haneul runs to Yoongi’s arms to be picked up. He knows what the luggages mean and because he’s largely in denial that they have to leave later (as referenced by him crying to your mom and Namjoon), Haneul keeps pretending to sleep so that their trip gets delayed.

Yoongi’s about to put him on your bed even if he knows his son’s antics already, but in the fear that he’ll actually get to sleep and they don’t get to leave (which he isn’t opposed to at all), he keeps him in his arms.

You, on the other hand, take Haneul from him when his arms outstretch for you.

There’s the sentiment of you not having to do it that’s resting at the tip of Yoongi’s tongue but he holds himself back, the image of you and Haneul completely fitting one another, he wants to burn a copy of it to his retinas and designate it to be the last thing he’ll see if he ever goes blind.

Without putting Haneul to sleep on your bed, he goes to sleep in peace in your arms.

“Do you regret it?” Yoongi asks throughout the silence between you, sitting next to you at the edge of your bed. “Do you regret ever liking me?”

“I do,” you answer truthfully, rubbing circles at the Haneul’s back. “I regret knowing you.”

Yoongi takes the responsibility fully, even fuller than the way both your hurt and happiness could make or break him.

“I can’t take back all the hurt I’ve caused you,” he admits just as honestly, turning to look at you. He becomes surprised to learn that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. “But what I can promise you is that I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

“I have my share of faults too.”

“Eh. Mostly mine.”

“Mostly yours, yeah,” you laugh easily, nodding to yourself as you continue. “But I held onto you as much as you didn’t hold onto me. That’s my mistake.”

Yoongi stays silent at that, not because he agrees, but because the bias that you’ll never be wrong in his eyes overtakes your humbleness.

“Do you think he’ll remember the entirety of the trip?” you ask, gesturing to Haneul who’s already sleeping like a hibernating bear in your hold. “Or will Haneul just remember that time the power went out because he cried a lot?”

“Oh, he’ll remember everything alright. He’s good with retention and people in general,” Yoongi waves you off. “Even if he didn’t come along the trip— even if we didn’t crash the whole thing, Haneul would remember you.”

“Who am I to him?” you ask in curiosity, lips turning into a straight line before they curve in the slightest. “Appa’s friend, I bet.”

“Not really. You’re a lot of things to me,” Yoongi chuckles, looking at the way Haneul grips you as if you’ll float away if he lets go; he’d do the same too. “More like my first love.”

Yoongi loves you quietly.

He loves you quietly with the way he draws the curtains downstairs when you sleep on the couch, tired and stressed over a solution you couldn’t understand. He loves you with the way he’ll scoop the warmest, freshest, least-burnt portion of rice to your bowl without you even asking for it. He loves you with the way he’s willing to let you walk all over him.

He loves you quietly in the way that not even distance nor time could disrupt him.

Yoongi loves you quietly, it might have been too much.

“Is that a lottery ticket?” he asks suddenly as he spots the familiar face of it inside your luggage, tucked into the discreet pocket where your mother’s letters of encouragement when you went to the big city were also kept

“Oh, it’s still there,” you answer, in surprise yourself because even if this is the same luggage you use whenever you go out of the country with Jungkook, you’ve never noticed that it was still there. “I bought it when you left for the US.”

Yoongi stops in his tracks in retrieving the scratch ticket from the pocket, looking up at you in curiosity. “Why did you buy one that day?”

Haneul stirs in his sleep in your arms, waking up right at the middle of you and Yoongi being lost in each other. He mistakes the silence as a signal that they’ll be leaving already, making a mess of himself as he quickly goes down the stairs to look for your family there and cling to them instead.

You and Yoongi are alone again.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, grasping the scratch ticket you used to spend hours looking. “I guess I just needed some proof that fate was against me that day.”

“But how would you even know that?” Yoongi asks, pointing to the card that’s still covered. “You didn’t even scratch it.”

You answer honestly, the reason burnt to the back of his mind.

“Because I knew I would lose my mind if I actually lost.”

“Try,” Yoongi swallows, nudging the ticket closer to you with a gaze that mirrored yours when he left. “Try again. Please.”

You have nothing else to lose.

Yoongi isn’t yours to lose.

You retrieve the same old coin Yoongi gave to you on the same day that he bought you your first scratch ticket, the appearance of it from your luggage making his heart skip a beat.

He doesn’t speak and neither do you, gaze only fixed on the way you scratch the card almost hesitantly, as if you’re still scared of the results of something that you should’ve known five years ago. (Read: you still are.)

When you get to the last digit, you freeze. You comb through the pattern over and over again, yet you still can’t believe it.

You’ve won the highest possible prize.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot Yoongi, looking up at him as he can’t believe it either.

“You won.”

“I won,” you repeat, running a hand through your hair. You actually laugh, the lump in your throat subsiding. It’s a welcome, albeit loaded, feeling of happiness that comes in between the two of you. “I thought I would lose,” you mutter bitterly, shaking your head. 

You didn’t lose. Fate wasn’t against you that day, and yet you still lost yourself thinking subconsciously what the proof of it would’ve been.

“Who would’ve thought, right?” you sigh, eyes drifting to Yoongi. “If only I took that chance years ago, I would’ve won.”

Yoongi smiles tightly, breath faltering in recollection.

“I’m familiar with the feeling,”

Yoongi doesn’t get to finish packing for him and Haneul and neither do you with your whole room, the shift in the atmosphere suddenly making him stand.

He’s breathless and he doesn’t know what for, the rapid beating of his chest making his voice louder than necessary. “Hey, what do you say you take a break? I’ll pack up your room. I have to stay alert anyway for Haneul."

You thank him before leaving him alone in your room.

Yoongi can’t find the strength in him to pack. The only power he has left in him is for him to think of taking everything out from his luggages, the thought of leaving again, this time worlds different than the last when you were begging him not to — he feels like throwing up.

Yoongi’s merely an amalgamation of you. He’s only a compilation of your every word, every feeling you’ve implanted in his heart. He’s filled with nothing but your every triumph and shortcoming; every late night hanging out with you as you attempt to study while he keeps you company, every minute he spent going out of his mind trying to look for you when you ran away from home.

Yoongi loves you silently to the point that he gets out of your room without accomplishing a single thing he said he’ll do just awhile ago.

In the grand scheme of things, Yoongi realizes that he was wrong. He was as wrong as you were right that the moment he leaves home, he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for it. 

Even if you left your home like he did, even if neither of you could come home anymore the moment your childhood house gets sold, Yoongi would still search for it. He’ll still search for you. You’re no longer where you were, but you are everywhere that Yoongi is.

He looks for you in Namjoon’s room, to the dining table, and all the way outside, just to ask if he and Haneul could stay for dinner.

Yoongi finds you and Haneul eating sundaes on the pavement outside, with you on the ground and a scrap cardboard underneath Haneul so it wouldn’t be hot for him.

Fate hadn’t been against you five years ago. And even if he’s much too late, Yoongi could only pray that fate isn’t against him now.

He walks over to where you and Haneul are, grabbing another scrap of cardboard to put underneath you.

Yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[little-diable]

My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

[divinesangel]

— 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

pm me for a personal reading!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

my dearest,

as i write this letter to you, my heart is filled with excitement and anticipation for the life we will share together. every word i write comes from a place of genuine affection and admiration. there's nothing i would love more than to shower you with my affection in love, the love that i've been saving to myself for many years now. i've been waiting for you for such a long time and i still am. i can't wait for the day that we get to do endless things together, visit, many places, and do many things together. you inspire me to grow and to expand myself in ways i haven't been able to before. i'm quite eager to see our future together unfolding in abundance and prosperity. i'm pretty sure we will build a life filled with stability, harmony, and security, which is more than i could ever ask for. i will protect our connection and our home will be like a sanctuary, a place where love and joy will be present, and where we will be able to create our own family.

you need to know that i will always stick by you through thick and thin, to support you in anything that you need, in your endeavors and your dreams, and to always work to make our connection happen and for our future family to thrive. i'm pretty sure that we will be able to any storm that comes our way. although sometimes i'd rather keep the bad news to myself so you don't have to experience any negativity, i promise to always communicate with you and show you my commitment to honesty and transparency, even when the truth may be difficult to face.

i will always cherish you and take care of you. my love for you knows no bounds, and i am thankful for every moment we share. your happiness is my greatest priority, and i will do everything in my power to ensure that you feel loved, cherished, and appreciated each and every day. with you as my partner, i know that anything is possible.

until we meet again, know that you hold my heart in your hands, now and forever.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

my love,

my heart overflows with warmth and anticipation for the journey that lies ahead of us. it's as if fate itself has brought us together and knew that we were always meant to be together. even if we haven't met yet, i just know that our connection will be instant as i feel the sparks even now. it's all gonna be magical, reminding me that our story is guided by something greater than ourselves. i'm impatient for the day we will get to experience that. my soul fell for you the moment it entered my body.

every time i think of you, my mind drifts back to the innocence and purity of childhood, like the sweet nostalgia. you remind me of something sweet, although distant. it's probably due to our souls knowing each other for lifetimes, finding solace and comfort in the familiarity of our bond.

my greatest desire is to see you happy, to witness the glow of joy radiating from your being and being there by your side to see you overflow with happiness; being there for you every time you need me. i know you'll be there for me as well, and it such a comfort for my heart. hand in hand, we can make anything possible.

with all my love, your future spouse

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

my most precious,

i find myself grappling with the complexities of life, feeling torn between the various paths laid out before me. there are moments when i question whether i am truly ready for what lies ahead, whether i possess the strength and clarity to navigate the challenges that await. the truth is, my love, there are aspects of my life that i am still coming to terms with, aspects that fill me with uncertainty and doubt. i am confronted with decisions that demand my attention, choices that require me to confront my deepest fears and desires.

but then, amidst the chaos of my mind, there is you. with you, my love, everything changes. in your presence, i find a sense of peace and clarity that i have never known before. it's as if the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders, and suddenly, everything feels possible. you have this remarkable way of making me feel like everything will be alright. your unwavering faith in me, your boundless love and support—it fills me with a sense of courage and conviction that i never knew i possessed.

there are many things i'd like to talk to you about that have to do with how i've been feeling. things that i've never dared to tell anyone else out of fear they might not get it as well as you will. i've experienced dark times in the past that i'm trying to come into terms with, and i will tell you all about it.

it's as if you are my guiding light, leading me through the darkness and showing me the way forward. yes, there may still be moments of doubt and uncertainty, but with you, my love, i know that i am not alone. with you, i feel as though i can face whatever the future may hold with courage and grace.

yours always, x

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 ($5.43) so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[scarlethexelove]

Hi! I’m not sure if my previous request went through because my Internet cut out! But could I please request a mommy!natasha fic? Where Nat just got home from a mission and little!reader refuses to let go of her, so she’s been in Nats lap, breastfeeding too since Nat got home. Then Clint comes over to discuss the mission with Nat, and while reader is drowsy and half asleep in nats arms, once she realizes her uncle Clint is there, she wants him to hold her too? Just a slice of life with Nat and her baby! Thank you

Little Bug

Pairing: Mommy!Nat x Little!Reader, Uncle!Clint x Little!Reader, Auntie!Wanda x Little!Reader

Word Count: 1735

Warnings: Fluffy, Breastfeeding, Age regression, just cute and fluffy really

A/n: I hope this is good. Please keep in mind that I'm doing Little!Reader from others that I have read and some research. I personally feel small at times but do not fully regress so I don't have much experience with it. I hope that I did it justice though cause this was cute and sweet.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

A grunt is heard as bags thud to the ground inside the closed door. Your head snaps up, the coloring page already long forgotten as you drop the crayon in your hand. You scramble from your spot on the floor and run to the door. “Mama!” You’re excitement being heard through loud words. All the frustrations of the mission that should have been easy washing away as your face enters her sight. She crouches, opening her arms as you run into her waiting arms. You wrap yourself around her tightly as she lifts you into her arms. Your legs wrapping around her waist as she holds you closer to her body. All the tension in her muscles melted away. “Hi my little bug.” Natasha smiles, kissing your head. 

“Miss chu Mama.” You mumble into her neck as you try to tighten your hold around your mommy. Nat kisses your head as the other woman in the room approaches. “Thank you again so much Wanda. I didn’t expect it to take that long.” Wanda smiles, shaking her head and waving her hand. “No need to apologize, I know how it can be.” She then pokes at your side causing you to squeal and squirm in Natasha’s hold. “Also who can resist this cute little bug. She was perfect for me.” The woman chuckled at your reaction. 

“Mmm little bug did Auntie Wanda feed you already?” Natasha asks poking a little at you letting you giggle and squirm in her hold as you nod your head. “She did! What did my bug have for dinner?” You pull your head out of her neck, your cheeks flushed from your giggles. “Chickie nuggies and fren fries.” You smile widely at your Mommy. “Oh wow were they good?” She asks you back and you nod your head vigorously, which only causes the women to chuckle at you again. 

You hug your Natasha tighter as you bury yourself back into her. “Well I should be getting back to Vis.” Wanda states grabbing her things from around the room before making her way back to the door where Nat is still standing with you in her arms. “Thanks again Wands. I really owe you.” Wanda waved her off again. “She was great. I love spending time with bug.” Natasha nods still thankful for all the help. “Well I’ll let you get out of here thank you again from watching her.” Wanda smiles. “No worries Nat. Call me if you need me.” But before she leaves she pokes at you again. “Does Auntie Wanda get a hug before she goes?” All you do is shake your head and hold onto your Mommy that much tighter. Wanda lets out an exasperated gasp. “Nooo. Aww bug you're going to make me sad.” She is holding your sides and you know you don’t want to make your auntie Wanda sad. So you awkwardly turn in Natasha’s hold with only your upper body and give Wanda a hug. She rubs your back a little. “Thank you bug.” She kisses your head and lets you go. “Tank chu for paying wit me.” You mumble turning back into Natasha. “Always little bug.” She pokes your sides one last time making your giggle and squirm, before she makes her exit. 

Natasha kisses your head as you nuzzle into her neck more. “Do you want to join Mommy for a bath sweet girl?” Natasha asks, already heading towards the bedroom. You nod your head which makes the woman smile. She tries to place you down so that she can get the bath ready for the both of you but you refuse to let go of her. Your hold tight causes her to sigh. She gives up holding you with one arm as she moves around the bathroom. 

It takes some convincing for you to let go so she can undress you and herself, but with some bribes for a movie after you finally let go of her. Once she gets you both undressed she gets into the tub and lefts you in after her gently setting you down between her legs. She watches you play with your Avengers rubber ducky set. You’re favorite of course being the black widow because of your Mommy. She lets you splash and play around and the water soaks her aching muscles. Content on just being with you. After long she washes you both off making sure you’re all clean. 

Nat dries you both off when she gets you out wrapping you up in one of your bear towels, the little ears on your head bringing a warm smile to her face. “Looks like someone is my little bear instead of my bug.” She boops your nose which causes you to scrunch your face up. “No Mama me bug.” You toss the towel off wanting to show her that you are still her little big. She chuckles at your antics picking you back up and kissing all over your face, causing you to giggle. “Ok my little bug.” 

Once Nat has gotten you dried off and into a comfortable onesie. You insisted on the black widow one for the night. Somehow most of your wardrobe consists of Avengers and mostly of your Mommy. But she loves so see your happy face when you get to show off your Mommy, Aunts, and Uncles. She sets you on the edge of the bed so that she can get herself dressed. “Mama?” Your voice breaks through as her shirt falls over her head. She hums hoping you will continue. “Hair?” She crouches down in front of you with a big smile on her face. “You want Mommy to braid your hair?” She asks you, her hands on your knees rubbing gently circles. You nod shyly. She raises up kissing your head. “Anything for you princess.” She quickly gets a brush and hair ties so she can put it up. 

The bed dips as Nat moves behind you on the bed. “Wanna hold bear?” She asks, holding  your teddy bear out for you. You nod your head, taking it from her and hugging it to your chest. She gently combs her fingers through your still damp hair before putting your hair up into a braid. When she is done you turn in her hold, looking up at her with big puppy dog eyes. “Baymax?” She smiles. “You want to watch Baymax?” You nod eagerly, wrapping yourself around her making the woman laugh. “Anything for you, bug.” She kisses your head. 

Nat carries you out into the living room. She situates the both of you on the couch, your head on her chest as she turns on Big Hero 6 for you to watch. It only takes a few minutes before you tug at her shirt whining. She looks down at you with a soft smile on her face. She knows what you want. “What is it my little bug?” You continue to tug and whine. “Okay, okay, okay.” She chuckles, pulling her shirt over her head. She guides you to her breast which you instinctively wrap your lips around her nipple.

A gasp can be heard as you begin to suckle on your Mommy’s nipple. Warm milk filling your mouth and tummy. You wiggle a bit trying to get comfortable as you suckle. Nat lets you move and wiggle until you finally settle. You are not particularly watching the movie anymore as you wrap your arms around her waist drinking your Mommy’s milk. She rubs your back enjoying the closeness and bonding you both get from the experience. She watches your eyes drooping close and the peaceful look on your face as you start to drift in and out of consciousness. The move is already long forgotten by the both of you softly playing in the background. 

A small buzz sounds as Nat's phone vibrates on the armrest of the couch. She looks down, opening the app that shows the cameras surrounding the house. When she clicks on the alert, the feed pops up showing Clint walking to the door. She taps on the screen unlocking the door to allow him to enter. 

“Hey I came to-” Clint stops when he sees you on the couch with Nat's eyes closed. “Oh sorry I didn’t mean to intrude.” Nat waves him off. “No, no, it’s fine. I think she is just about asleep now. Did you want to talk about the mission?” He knows not to argue with her so he sits down across from the two of you and the two begin to run through the mission debrief. 

As the two talk you vaguely recognize the voices. You stir about until you pick out Clint's voice. You wiggle and let go of your Mommy’s nipple turning to see your uncle Clint sitting there. “Uncle Cwint.” You wiggle free of your Mommy making your way over to him as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Once you're in front of him you give him grabby hands. “Hey little spider.” He picks you up and puts you in his lap as Nat puts her shirt back on. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest, getting comfortable in his lap as he holds you and rubs his hand up and down your back as he talks with Nat.

You're drifting in and out of sleep as time goes on. You hadn’t even noticed that you fell asleep until you were being carried back to your Mommy’s bedroom. She gets you both into bed before taking her shirt back off knowing that you would want to finish nursing on the other breast as you go to sleep. You cuddle into her side and she helps guide your sleepy form to her breast. Letting out a satisfying sigh as you latch on. 

Your tummy is full as you close your eyes, your lips still around Nat’s nipple as you drift between worlds. Her hand rubbing up and down your back gently. “Go to sleep bug, Mommy will be here when you wake up.” She kisses your head letting her lips linger there. It’s not long before your full body relaxes and soft snores come from you. Nat isn’t far behind you as she closes her eyes kissing your head once more. “I love you my little bug.” She finally lets herself join you in the land of dreams.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ bf!jongho x f!reader

synopsis ✭ when you come home from a less-than-perfect day, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found, but you don't want to call him and ask him to come home while he's out with friends. even though he'd drop everything if he knew you were struggling.

content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI, established relationship, non-idol!au, hurt to comfort, slightly angsty, relatively fluffy (certainly the fluffiest thing i've ever written here)

word count ✭ 2.5k

note ✭ so this was something i really needed to write for myself, i think. for those who don't know (which is all of you lol) i have adhd. where i see it the most in my own life is chronic procrastination. it's something i've had to learn to cope with a lot throughout my life. a lot of times, when i feel the need to avoid feeling the stress of my personal life, i'll scroll on instagram or tumblr forever. which then leads to a heaping ton of guilt in the following hours as i try to make up for lost time. it's a wonderful cycle.

anyway, this is to say, that coping alone can be incredibly difficult. don't get me wrong, i have a handful of wonderful friends (who go to school across the country) and an angel of a therapist, but i often romanticize having someone there to help drag me out of those hopeless cycles. and not because i think i need someone to do it for me, but having that person is a really comforting thought. and, today, that is jongho i guess 😀

that being said, this mc doesn't necessarily have adhd, but they are certainly experiencing something that i experience very frequently as a byproduct of it.

like, is this smut? yeah, but im allowed to be emotional 😗

warnings ✭ mc is stressed af, protected sex, really soft sex (they're in love 😤)

✭✭✭✭

It was a terrible day. One of the worst you’d had in a while. Nothing seemed to be going your way. You’d ripped your favorite pair of tights this morning when getting ready in a hurry after waking up super late. You’d locked yourself out of the apartment. The seven dollar coffee you’d bought for yourself to cope with aforementioned events had spilt all over your desk, ruining the book you had just received as a gift from a coworker. And, to top it all off, your boss had demanded you to stay late to finish what was supposed to be his job.

So when you finally made it back to your apartment, after waiting in the lobby forever waiting for your landlord to let you in, you wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch with your boyfriend and fall asleep in his arms. 

You were plagued with fatigue as you slipped out of your work shoes and made your way through the kitchen and into the living room, not finding him anywhere. The bedroom the two of you shared was also completely vacant. Nothing had changed since you’d left this morning. He hadn’t been home all day.

Maybe he’s just working late, you thought, slightly defeated knowing you’d have to wait for him, not knowing how long it would take. 

Trying to take your mind off of it, you scrolled on your phone for a completely indiscernible amount of time, feeling completely defeated with the day you’d had. Moving in with Jongho months ago has been an incredibly helpful step for you. Before the two of you had lived together, you were a master of procrastinating your own feelings. Constantly letting yourself rot away in your bed and letting the day pass you by. Only to be plagued by that crushing guilt that came with letting a day go by unproductively. Living with Jongho had given you someone to hold you accountable. To pull you out of bed because sometimes it was impossible to do it on your own.

But on nights like these, where your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, which was not a common occurrence, you felt yourself slipping back into the endless cycle of losing yourself in your phone for countless hours. 

Hours passed and the sun was almost completely down before you received a text from your boyfriend.

| jongho 🐻🤎: hey love, sorry i had to stay late for work today. i’m gonna go get some drinks with my coworkers.

| jongho 🐻🤎: that ok?

God, you felt so helpless. How horrible and controlling of a partner would you be to tell him ‘no?’ Did he ask? Yes, but you desperately didn’t want to be the girl who always needed to be by her boyfriend’s side. Telling him he couldn’t go out with his friends would make you feel like such a nuisance. You stared at the screen for a good two minutes, biting your thumb, trying to think of how to respond.

| jongho 🐻🤎: y/n? 

| jongho 🐻🤎: i can see you read the message. is everything alright?

Before you could even draft a response, his name flashed across the screen. Taking a deep breath, you slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call.

“Hi,” you picked up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You could hear some of his coworkers in the background. He must already be at the bar. 

You held in a sigh, “Nothing, I’m alright. Why?”

“Y/n, you read and didn’t respond to my message. Like you were overthinking a response."

You didn’t say anything. Overthinking yet another response.

“Love, I don’t even want to be here that badly. If you need me to come home, I will. But you’ve gotta tell me.” He was being so patient with you. So much more patient than you thought you deserved, though he would certainly disagree with that.

You took a deep breath, nearing tears, “I–” this was so incredibly hard, “Can you please come home? I didn’t really have a great day.”

“Of course, I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“No, it’s alright. I just need to see you.”

“Ok, just hang in there alright. Why don’t you hop in the shower, and we can watch a movie when I get back. I’ll pick up some takeout on my way, too.”

When you hang up, you force yourself to get out of bed and get in the shower. It’s so rewarding and feels so relaxing that you can’t imagine why you ever couldn’t get out of the bed in the first place. But, of course, you say that every time. 

✭✭✭✭

By the time you had gotten out of the shower and dried your hair, Jongho had made it home with the takeout he’d promised in hand. 

When you left your bedroom, you saw him sitting on the floor in your living room. He’d lit a candle on the coffee table and set the food down with it. You could tell he’d changed out of his work clothes into a hoodie and basketball shorts, mirroring your almost identical outfit. He didn’t notice you at first. He was chatting to someone on the phone, seemingly a friendly conversation, and not one you wanted to interrupt. When he saw you, though, you heard him say goodbye to whoever was on the line. 

Throwing his phone down on the couch, he got up from the floor and met you at the door of your bedroom. Pulling you into a big hug, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“No pressure, but, if you wanna talk about your day, we can.”

You shook your head, “Not really. I just wanna eat, I think.”

The two of you ate, sitting in comfortable silence on the floor in your living room. You noticed as you took in the scene around you, that Jongho had turned off all the overhead lights in the room. Leaving only the candlelight and the string lights around the ceiling to illuminate the room. There was something about warm lighting that made everything feel so much more cozy and comfortable. 

Your boyfriend wasn’t the most physically affectionate individual, but he never failed to make you feel loved. He always noticed the small things. He was hyper aware of your emotions in the least patronizing way possible. It was little moments like bringing home food for you and turning the cool-toned overhead lights off that reminded you that this man knew you better than anyone.

And that wasn’t something that happened overnight. He tried harder than anyone you’d ever met to know you. Your likes, dislikes, discomforts, phobias, and even your little habits. He knew it all. What he knew most is that you desired so bad to have someone to pull you out of your slump. Which is why he had come home early.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay out with your friends,” you whispered, staying focused on the food in front of you.

“I didn’t come home because I felt any obligation to. It’s not that I couldn’t stay out with my friends. It’s that you needed me here at home, and I wanted to come home and comfort you.” He ran a hand over your hair as he finished up his own food. 

That was another thing you loved about him. He wasn’t saying this because he wanted to make you feel better. He wanted you to know that you were not alone. That you were free to feel your feelings, and he’d always be right beside you to comfort you through them.

“Thank you,” you looked up at him, “I love you, you know that, right?”

“How could I ever forget? I love you, too, y/n.”

✭✭✭✭

After the food was gone and the coffee table was cleared, Jongho had put on a movie laid down on the couch, holding out his arms for you. When you finally sat between his legs and leaned into his chest, he pulled a quilted blanket over the two of you, wrapping his arms around you.

You paid very little mind to the movie playing on the TV. Instead you were focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the steady beating of his heart, and the minor movements his chest would make when he let out a soft laugh whatever he was watching.

He played with your hair, running his fingers through the strands, softly brushing his fingers over your neck with each pass. This position couldn’t have been more comfortable. Being with the man you loved as he comforted you in the way he knew best with absolutely no complaint was more than you could’ve ever dreamed of.

Jongho would claim that it was the bare minimum, but you always felt the need to let him know how much he really amazed you. 

When you reached your hand up to his cheek to brush your thumb over the skin, he looked down at you, completely forgetting about the movie playing. He grabbed your hand from his cheek and kissed your fingers, your palm, the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist.

Pulling yourself up to his face, you kissed him as softly as he’d done to your hand. Everything was so soft. From the way he kissed you to the way he caressed the skin under your hoodie right above the waistband of your shorts. From the hand you had in his hair to the way he lifted you to sit more comfortably in his lap.

He kissed your neck just as softly. You sighed contently. Fully basking in the way he took care of you. His movie was fully disregarded at this point as he gripped the bottom of your shirt.

Looking into your eyes he asked, “can I take care of you, love?” You nodded, helping him lift the sweatshirt over your head. 

Before you could even comprehend the nakedness of your chest, he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your shared bed. Laying you on your back. Your bare skin taking immense comfort in the softness of your sheet. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw his pants off to the side.

He immediately went back to kissing you. Hands moving from your cheeks, down your neck. His thumbs caressed your collarbone as his lips brushed the crook of your neck and then your shoulder. You shuddered when one of his hands took your breast. His lips met the other one, causing you to let out a breathy moan and weave your fingers through his dark hair.

He continued to kiss and touch every inch of your torso. When he got to your waistband, he left a small kiss under your belly button. His big brown eyes meeting your own as he pulled your shorts and underwear off together. Tossing them to the side of the bed. 

Lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder, he kissed your inner thigh, still meeting your eyes. The eye contact wasn’t broken until his thumb met your clit. Brushing over it slightly, making you toss your head back into the pillows under you. His mouth replaced his thumb, slowly teasing you. 

With his free hand, he took your own hand, the one that wasn’t gripping his hair, and threaded his fingers through yours. Thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

He felt so good. His tongue working so hard to make you feel pleasure. Everything was so gentle, but felt so euphoric. His fingers pumping in and out of you as he sucked on your clit. You felt like you could’ve floated away with the way he caressed your hand and your thigh. It wasn’t long before you were washed with a wave of pleasure. Everything was hot. You felt it rush through you from your ears down to your cunt. He kissed your thigh one more time after you came, fingers pushing you through the finale of your orgasm. 

Your breathing was ragged when he made it back up to your face, kissing you tenderly. Reaching a hand beneath the pillow under your head. He pulled out a condom. Before he could open it, you plucked it out of his hands, tearing it open as he stripped himself of his own underwear before you rolled the rubber onto his length. He groaned at the touch.

“You ready?” He asked, grabbing your arm and kissing your wrist.

You nodded, smiling, “yes. please, baby.”

When he pushed into you, you gasped and threw your head back again. He kissed your neck and shoulder, slowly thrusting into you. On most occasions, you’d beg him to go faster, but his subdued nature in this moment was so incredibly comforting. His thumb massaged your clit.

He kissed you deeply as he thrust into you. Completely overtaking your lips with his own. His kisses were so full of passion that your head spun. His adoration for you was so evident from the way he looked into your eyes when he stopped kissing you. Your foreheads pressed together, separated only by a thin layer of sweat. 

“I love you so much, y/n,” he says, just above a whisper. So close that you can feel his breath tickle your lips when he says it.

You moan softly, feeling yourself reach a second high, “I love you, too.”

It’s only a matter of minutes before you reach your orgasm. You grip his shoulders tight as he coaxes you through your climax. Walls fluttering around him as he finishes inside the condom. 

He kisses your lips once more before pulling out. He pushes himself off the bed to throw it away. When he comes back, he slides back into bed with you. Breath still slightly ragged. 

You laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat once more.

Running a hand over his stomach, you said, “Thanks for coming home early today.”

“Of course, love. You know I’d drop anything to come home to you if you were struggling.”

“I just feel like such a nuisance asking for you to come home,” you groaned.

He ran a hand over your hair, “I will never ever see you asking for help as a nuisance. Sometimes you just need a little push. Or sometimes you just need to lay in someone’s arms. I will always be there to do that for you. No matter the circumstance, ok?”

You wanted to protest, tell him he was too much, too good to you, but he kept going, “I trust you. I know that when you ask me to come home, it’s not because you're insecure or controlling. It’s because you need help, and I want you to always feel comfortable asking for it.”

He’d left you just a little bit speechless. All you could respond with was a gentle kiss on his lips.

For him, though, that was more than enough.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ ok this shit got really personal 💀 but i did really enjoy writing it. it's not often that i write a whole oneshot in one sitting but i did today (other than my minor break to eat dinner).

also, i was actually between writing this for vernon or jongho because i felt like they both kinda fit the vibe (sorry if the knowledge that this could have been a hansol fic makes anyone sad), but maybe i'll write something similar for him next time i'm feeling it

again, i hope you enjoyed this! thank you so much for reading 💗

mwah~

[alonetimelover]

pairing: harry styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)

summary: harry plays a show where one of the most important people in his life attends - his fiancée's granny.

submitted by @otaktomotyl, thank you and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it!

a/n: i found polish translations on the internet, i hope they're okay.

masterlist ask, comment, come say hi!

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, harryshoee and 37 201 others

harryupdates HARRY landed in Warsaw. I repeat, HARRY landed in Warsaw.

view all 3 013 comments

harrysmoustache and he's holding yn's hat???

harryshoee yn and harry can finally reunite... 🥹

harrysfan92 do you see his arms???? he looks like a Greek god, god damn

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harrysmoustache

liked by harryupdates, stylesbabie and 12 301 others

harrysmoustache HAARY AT YN'S COUSIN WEDDING!!!!

view all 2 492 comments

harryupdates you're so fast with those updates, lyla. im gonna lose my job...

stylesbabie yn be aware, he looks good enough to be THE groom. keep him close

⤷ harryslipstick i think that ring on her finger is saying more than anything

harrysmybestie guys, you know we are so close to see HIM at HIS OWN wedding...

⤷ harrysmylife don't

⤷ harrysmoustache why would you say that?!

⤷ outofstyles am i the only one awaiting that day impatiently??? i wanna see him being all nervous and loving and all of the emotions that people feel at the weddings

stylesislife only harry styles could come to my wedding wearing a tanktop that he also wears to his shows

⤷ hArrysbtch the only man i could forgive AND compliment on looking so fucking good

stylesbabie yn's cousin posted a photo from the ceremony, and you can see yn and harry being all snuggle and touchy 😭😭😭 i love them so much

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"What do you mean you're not coming up on stage? Harry, my love, what changed during the last two hours?" YN asked into her phone, anxious Harry being on the other side, soundly biting his nails. "And stop biting your nails, you've got a very nice colour on them."

"Is babcia (granny) here?"

"Mum texted they're close to the gate. Jeff, was kind enough to go there and pick them up so they wouldn't get in any trouble."

"Good, good, good. can- can you come backstage? I think I'd like some ted talk before the show," he said quietly, smile growing on his face. "And some kisses, too."

"Give me 10 minutes, I'll find that kind guard and ask him to guide me. I can't remember when to turn right."

"I'll wait for you. I love you."

"I love you."

Harry got up from the couch and started pacing from one wall to the other. His hands were trembling, getting sweaty. He couldn't remember when was the last time he felt this nervous before start of the show. Not wembley or Slane Castle were as nerve wrecking as Warsaw. He knew it perfectly that it wasn't because of the city or the country. Well, it partially was.

It was YN's home show. But also her whole family was just outside the gates or already walking down the hallways to get to their seats (VIP of course, besides YN's younger cousins that wanted the front row, barricade experiance). And probably the most important guests for Harry - YN's grandparents, especially her granny. A sweet 92-year-old lady that started learning english and using an iPhone to be able to talk and contact Harry. A lady who bought his heart with sweet butter biscuits that no one could replicate. A lady that listened and then learned his whole three albums for this day - the day she would finally see him play live.

So he was terrified to disappoint her.

"What if i mess up the lyrics?" he asked YN when she finally came to the greenroom, he had been pacing in.

"Then she will sing it to you."

"But what if she won't like hearing me live? I mean, it's- it's a possibility. What? Why are you giggling. I'm really stressed here, my darling."

"I'm so sorry." She kissed the crown of his head. "It's just that you're afraid of impossibility. There is no way she would laugh at you or be disappointed in you." YN stroke his hair, gently massaging it, bringing Harry peace.

"You sure?"

"I've never been more sure in my life."

"She'll like it." Harry reassured himself aloud.

"Yes, she will. Not only she loves you like her own grandchild, she's also nervous. This morning she facetimed me to help her pick up an outfit. She bought quite a few things after she saw some pictures of your fans on the internet." She laughed, finding it quite adorable.

"Did she?" Harry lifted his head from yn's lap. "Oh, bless her."

They spent the next few minutes in silence, letting Harry's heart to calm down and steady its pace.

"Wait, did you say that you've never been more sure about something in your life?" Harry eventually broke the silence.

"Yes?"

"So, you had doubts when I asked you to marry me?"

"Oh god."

——————————————————————————————

harryloveontour

liked by harryupdates, stylesmaaan and 21 491 others

harryloveontour first look at harry at tonight's show in warsaw! it wasn't even the first minute, and he was already seen sending kisses towards yn!

view all 6 023 comments

harrysmylife and it was not only for yn!!! her whole family is with her. even her grandparents.

⤷ stylesbabie omg, they must love him soooo so much

ynandhmyparents they are the sweetest couple i've ever seen, like ever

harrysmoustache is anybody live??? i need to experience this show, i have tissues ready

⤷ hArrysbtch hslotwarsaw is live and it's in such a good quality

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hslotwarsaw

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 21 291 others

hslotwarsaw this is harry's reaction to seeing yn dancing with one of the fans during adore you!!!

view all 3 491 comments

harryupdates omg, his reaction was priceless!!!!

hArrysbtch the way this man said "back off, my friend. she is taken. ring and all. no, no, no." he wa ready to jump from that stage to stop that man from hugging yn!

⤷ stylesbabie i mean, did that guy asked yn if that was okay?

⤷ lovingharry he did, you could see it on the videos that people already posted

harrysmoustache he's like "excuse me, man. that is my fiancée. MY fiancée."

harrysmylife oh, this concert just started and i know it's gonna be the best of all times

——————————————————————————————

lately you've been on my mind

honey, ah ah ah

The whole stadium was singing back to him. He could describe the feeling it awoke in him each time. It was similar but never the same. Especially today, everything seemed to touch him deeper, better, and clearer.

"Someone's stealing your girl, Styles"

Harry heard someone in his earpiece, making him stop singing. He played it cool by putting the mic towards the audience simultaneously looking for YN.

It didn't take him long. She was right where she promised to be. The space designed specifically for her family, not enclosed but clearly separated from the main audience. There she was dancing and laughing with some middle-aged guy.

Harry was a jealous person in nature. In particular when it came to his partners. He wasn't proud of it, and he definitely didn't have any way to believe that YN would sprint after every Tom, Dick and Harry. Every day she showed him how in love she was, there could be no way.

But here he was. Jaw clenched, not singing and glaring towards his fiancée.

"Harry, everything alright?" Again the voice in his earpiece.

YN stopped dancing, feeling that unmistakable eyes almost glued to her. Oh, it didn't look good.

"How you doin' Warsaw?!" Harry finally screamed into the microphone. The squeals, screems and whistles gave him all he wanted - distraction.

And when YN smiled at him so lovingly and sweetly, it was enough to carry him till this moment.

"Your sign says 'help me shoot my shot'. Is this person with you?" Harry asked the fan who was holding the very neat and colourful sign. Somehow he didn't recognise him from just a minutes ago.

"She's here."

"Wow! Your voice is so loud, man. But how do you want me to help you when she's here. She's next to you somewhere?"

And then if it would have been possible, Harry's jaw would touch the floor. That guy shamelessly pointed towards YN. Now he remembered.

People screamed so loudly, because everything was shown on the biggest screen behind the stage.

"Well, back off, my friend. She is taken. Ring and all. No, no, no." Harry tried to play it cool by laughing at the end. "And, as far as I'm concerned, we're not lookin' for the third one in the relationship."

Now the stadium was laughing along with the long 'ouuuu'.

"How did you know you'd be close to YN, anyway?"

"Manifesting."

"Manifesting?" Harry repeated so everyone could know the answer. "Well, you're doing it right, so I suggest betting or playing lottery. And, to be honest most importantly," he pressed. "Not stealing someone else's future wife!"

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 34 201 others

harryupdates harry introducing yn's grandmother at tonight's show.

view all 7 201 comments

hArrysbtch she is the sweetest lady, my god. i love her even though i don't know her 🥹

harrysmoustache "this show is very special to me. here are my future parents in law as well as grandparents. hello, hi!" i still can't comprehend harry being engaged...

harrysmylife "granny, how are you doing? do you need anything? no? you're good? excellent! that's what I wanted to hear. please give it up for granny!" and the way he started clapping both of his hands and the whistling???? and then speaking in polish i think???

⤷ polisharry Yes! He said 'dziękuję, babcia że tu jesteś' which means 'thank you granny for being here

harryfan82 this show is sooo good

outofstyles did anybody see harry constantly looking towards that area, where yn's whole family is?

⤷ harrysmoustache absolutely! i can't imagine how nervous he is, considering it's the first (at least that we know of) time he sings in front of them

——————————————————————————————

hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates, harrysmylife and 33 101 others

hArrysbtch HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO PLAY MEDICINE BUT THE BAND STARTED IT WITHOUT HIS KNOWLEDGE. I CANT. HES REACTION IS PRICELESS. HES TERRIFIED.

view all 8 101 comments

harryupdates he didn't even started it on cue, thank god the audience was so pumped up for it and sang it!

harrysmoustache "no no no no no. we weren't supposed to play it. sarah!" the fear and confusion in his voice was everything. they got him good.

outofstyles "you're gonna pay for it. all of you." this is so funny

stylesbabie the funniest thing is how when he started singing it, he was all touchy and sexy. it was like he forgot about the problem in the moment...

godstyles "granny's terrified" HARRY YOU DIDN'T PUT THE MICROPHONE DOWN, MAN

⤷ harrysmoustache but they showed granny being all smiley during medicine. i think she enjoyed it just like any other song!

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, stylesbabie and 41 202 others

harryupdates harry smiling while talking to yn's little cousin (yn was translating everything to her and then to harry). she then opened as it was with "harry, I wanna say goodnight to you"

view all 3 201 comments

hArrysbtch i hate kids but that baby was so cute i wish i could squish her cheeks

harrysmoustache he was all smiles and gentle eyes while talking to her, he loves this family so much

styleslove i love when people are so open with their feelings for their partner's family

harrysfan081 so cute

stylesbabie give this man a child already

——————————————————————————————

hslotwarsaw

liked by harryupdates, stylesmylove and 61 201 others

hslotwarsaw harry after splashing water at yn and her family at the end of the show!

and with this photo, we're ending our 'photo-stream'. thank you all for helping us prepare all of the fan projects and thank you for welcoming harry so warmly in our country! till the next time!

view all 8 20q comments

harryupdates you did amazing job!

hArrysbtch yn's granny got so happy at the moment harry decided to threaten her with a bottle

stylesbabie granny had a water gun and threatened harry back with it!!!!! it was soo cute, he run away laughing

harrysfan88 best show so far

harrysmylife "this one of the loudest show i can remember. and i know why. my fiancée's whole family is here. and believe me, they can make so much noise it's impressive!" my friend stood next ro them and confirmed, they were so loud during the whole set list!!

harryshands i can't imagine better way for harry to cope with this amount of pressure. he delivered one of the best performances in his life - sound and entertain wise. truly amazing

——————————————————————————————

"Harry, my sweet boy."

Harry turned 180° from the conversation he was having with Jeff to see the face of the lady with the heavy accent he knew so well.

"Babcia! (granny)" he exclaimed, jogging towards her and ambracing in a tight hug. "How I've missed you."

"You saw me yesterday, you."

"I know." He pulled away, still having his arm around granny. "But it's already been almost 24 hours. A long time, don't you think?"

Granny shook her head with a smile and placed her head on Harry's chest. She was rather exhausted from all the lights, noise, dancing and standing up for almost three hours.

"You wanna sit down, granny?" YN asked, squeezing her grandmothers arm in a way showing her she was nearby.

"Oh, yes. My legs aren't 20 years old as much as I would like them to be."

The three of them sat down on the green couch and talked about the show. Granny was impressed with all the fans having the time of their life, but specifically the ones that seemed to take in the show on their own terms.

"There were those two girls just hugging the whole time and singing softly all the songs. It was so lovely," granny explained.

"It's funny how they were two of very little to not use their phone during the show," commented someone in the room.

And before harry got the chance to defend people taking photos and recording, granny sat up straight.

"Well, in the 60s, my father took me to see The Beetles and I wish i had a camera then. It was such a magical moment that I would want it to be not only engraved in my mind but also on paper. I took so many photos of you, Harry. I need you to print them so I can show them to my friends on the next bingo evening."

YN nodded her head with a smile, not only planning to print the photos but putting the whole concert that harry recorded on the CD. Granny loved watching that type of thing on her telly.

"Harry," granny spoke up after a few moments. "I do have a question however."

"Ask away, granny."

"That song, medicine. What is it about?"

[molotovmetro]

The 141 + König with a s/o who goes non-verbal

Tiny disclaimer: im autistic and have moments of being non verbal during breakdowns etc, so this is based mostly off of my own experience, but if anyone feels like ive said inaccurate or offensive things, please let me know as that would never be my intention. The way I've written this suggests this is a negative feeling (, since thats how i experience it) but I understand that might not be the same for everyone. For some people this might just be a daily or

Requested by @apocalypticseagull

Warnings: mentions of stress and the slightest hint at possible injury, besides that nothing I can think of

M!reader

Ghost

Ghost relates to you. While he wouldn't claim his experience is the same, he gets moments of overstimulation where he wants everyone to leave him alone, and will just stop reacting to people.

When he feels like this, he prefers to sit in his room, either completely in the dark or with only a small lamp on, and have as little noise around him as possible.

If you're in a stress situation, not knowing what else to do to help you, that's what he'll resort to.

He'll take you into either his room or yours, whichever you would prefer, and holds you while letting you get away from all the triggers for a bit. Unless you're dealing with life or death situations, whatever work you have left for the day can wait. Your wellbeing always comes first.

Soap

Soap is a lot more observant than people give him credit for. He's the king of avoiding stressful situations for you whenever he can.

But alas, he can't avoid it every time. Whether you start saying less and less as the minutes go on, or just stop talking suddenly, he notices immediately.

Not that he'd be quick to admit it, but he's got a written list of everything you like, even if it's just something you mentioned in passing. He absutely will use this list to do whatever he can to make you smile and relieve some of your stress.

He'll make sure to find a way to still communicate that both of you are comfortable with. He'll happily lend you his journal to write in, or he'll ask Roach for some lessons in sign language. He'd break his back bending over backwards to make you comfortable if he had to.

Gaz

No matter how often it happens, Gaz still feels a jolt of panic whenever you don't respond over coms when you're on a mission. He almost sags in relief as soon as he hears you hum, or even just hears the crackly static of you pushing your radio's button.

He knows you're a talented soldier and you're more than capable of handling yourself, he still prefers to be near you at all times. What if something happens and you can't tell him? You could be in trouble without him even knowing. He'll, just knowing you're stressed is making him want to reach for you.

He likes his job, likes helping people and ridding the world of danger, but his favourite part of every mission is when you're sitting in the exfil helo after a good mission, and you give him that wide smile he's been waiting hours, if not days to see.

Price

You and Price have been working together for so long, you both know the drill. When he starts to notice you going quiet, he makes sure he only asks yes or no questions. On your side; one click of your radio button for no, two for yes. Throw in some improvised morse code when necessary, and you've got a solid communications system.

Having this system is also a huge bonus during stealth missions, when he can't talk freely without risking being spotted.

He loves hearing your voice, but he doesn't treat you any differently when you can't talk. He'll support you in whatever way you need, without making it feel like he's babying you.

The two of you are a well oiled machine. No matter how stressful the situation, usually you can tell what the other one is thinking just by looking at them. You know you both have each other's back, verbal communication or not.

König

König doesn't mean to make a big deal out of it, and he won't if you don't, but he does worry.

After a situation like that happens once, he commits everything that helps you to his memory, and uses the knowledge to help you the next time it happens.

Even down to the tiniest detail, he'll remember. If you don't like a certain texture or can only stand a certain flavour of drink during moments like this, he's making sure you have everything you need and are as comfortable as possible. Whatever is stressing you will be dealt with by him while you're resting and calming down.

If you want to be alone, he understands and respects that, and gives you the space you need. But if you don't, there's nowhere he'd rather be than by your side.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Pick a Card: Message from your Inner-Child

Your inner baby needs you to listen. This reading will help them speak their mind clearly. Will you hear them out? Take what resonates and let go of all the rest but be willing to accept new experiences.

☀️Donate to my CashApp🌙

(fund my inner child's joy)

Feel free to drop any reading suggestions in my inbox. I'll keep them in mind when divining the wisdom that needs delivered to y'all's lil ears. Thank you in advance for all your help and support!

Decks used are The Kawaii Tarot, Pure Magic Oracle, Romantic Lenormand and The Karma Cards.

_____________________________________________________________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Capricorn, Aquarius, Libra

Song: Pantsuit Sasquatch by Molly Lewis

Vibes: Green, red, night sky, thorns, bouquet, red flowers, chess, star gazing, alligator, aroma therapy, herbal remedies, apothecary, rabbits, snake skin, olive branch, Zues, Demeter

Cards: 6 of Swords, Saturn, Tower, Lilies, Herbal Craft, Hallowed Heart

Hello, pile 1. Your inner child is really tired of having to be the adult for people who are older than them. They are tired of playing mentor for those who should be mentoring. They want to be done with those people. They are holding up a building with their tiny arms and their shaking frame. As if someone put the world on their shoulders and asked them to carry it with bones that were not developed enough to hold it and without the mental fortitude to withstand the pressure. They wish to rest. They wish to lash out at the adults who relied on them before they were ready or willing. I see your inner child resembles Alice in Wonderland. After the wicked adults in your inner child's life grew white flowers, they demanded it was your fault and made you paint the white roses, red. They took their purity. They hurt you a lot.

The main message I am hearing from them is, "Please be gentle with my little heart and my small frame. I was treated harshly purely for being alive. I need healing. I need time to rest and recuperate. Please do not yell at me for my mistakes. Please do not hurt me for my shortcomings. I did not ask to be here. I only wish for it to get better than it is now. I'm sorry I wasn't mature. I'm sorry I've been impatient but I have been patient for so long. I've spent so much time waiting for my caretakers to do their jobs. Please. I don't need structure. I need relief."

They do not hold you accountable for everything that happened to you, my dear. They are reaching their little hands out for you to help them up. They want to be more present in your life. They want to have fun again. They didn't have enough of it as a child. They want to play outside. The last message I'll leave you with is some advice I find very important.

"Play is the psychological opposite of Trauma."

____________

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Gemini, Cancer (maybe libra)

Song: Burn Your Village by Kiki Rockwell

Vibes: Grey, pink, purple, corvids, pinecones, sage, lavender plant, grizzly bear, spider, scorpio, eagle, hummingbird, long hair, video games, D&D, law, Zephyr, Eurus, Callisto, Artemis, Hecate

Cards: Justice, Clouds, Bear, Hecate's Path, Songbirds, 8th House

Hi, pile 2. Your inner child is full of vengeance. I see that without the vengeful energy they are very respectful and kind. Their anger is extremely understandable and a reaction induced by the environment they grew up in. Your inner child has an intense sense of justice. They know they have been treated unjustly by the authority in their life. Those in control of their circumstance took their autonomy and right of trial. The authorities judged you harshly for no good reason and were unpredictable. The authority would explode at random instances making them hard to anticipate. They were dangerous. Purely because they wanted to make your life miserable to cope with their own miserable life. Your inner child did not deserve that. Your inner innocence was corrupted into a furious and resentful person. They are aware they deserved better. They were conscious of their mistreatment. I see they could have been mistreated because of their race or gender.

The message I am hearing the loudest from your inner child is, "Those filthy horrid people deserve to atone for their wrong doings. No one helped me. They didn't even listen. They took that authorities word for truth and no one heard my side of the story. I am not a liar. I am not guilty. I did nothing wrong and now my older self doesn't even believe me either. The people who did this to me will pay. They will face justice if I have to be the one to dish it out. I hate them. I hate what they turned me into. I was pure. I was innocent. Now look at what they have made me. This isn't fair. This isn't right! Why was I treated this way!? Why does no one believe me?! I will never abuse power like that person did. I will end this cycle of abuse. I release and remove everyone who blamed me without learning the whole story. I am letting go of the pain they put me through. They do not deserve me or my kindness. They only deserve my hatred and resentment. I hope they burn."

Your inner child begs you to protect them from the people who did this to you. I can feel they are still in your life. It might be a father or a brother or an uncle. I also see it could be a pastor. Your inner baby will continue to lash out at random times because they have no where to aim all this negative emotion. They want to be free of guilt that shouldn't be theirs. They want to be free of judgmental eyes. Free them from the illusion that this authority laid over everyones eyes. I leave you with one last message.

"The weakest link will target the strongest link to avoid that they're useless."

_________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Virgo, Leo, Sagittarius

Song: Heart of a Dancer by The Happy Fits

Vibes: Blue, pink, forest green, androgenous, duality, 2b hair texture, robins, blue jays, coffee mugs, sculpting, yin/yang, balance, rose quartz, pearl, magnolia tree, gardening, bonfire, 3rd eye, Aphrodite, Hermaphroditus, archangel Samuel, Lucifer Morningstar, Baphomet

Cards: 8 of Cups, Birds, Woman, Pyro-kinesis, Closing Circle, Virgo, 7th House, North Node

Hey there, pile 3. I feel many complex emotions from your inner child. I see how they were conditioned is much different than how they genuinely are. They were conditioned to be quiet, serene and passive. But when they are acting genuine it is exact opposite. They are loud, angry and active. There is a need to walk away from their conditioning and those who conditioned them. They don't know how to ask that of you because of how they were taught. They do not speak unless spoken too and this makes it difficult for them to communicate with you. They are anxious they will be punished if they ask for anything of you. Invite them forward and allow them to speak their mind. They hold back a lot of emotion that needs to be expressed. You need to be open to hearing what they have to say.

The important message I need to tell you from them is, "You will benefit from our collaboration. I'm sorry for speaking up but you are not following your heart anymore. You are following what you have been told. This is not authenticity that you display. It is fake. Even if it is well-meaning you are not yourself. You are pretending to be someone else. Please let me express my rage. Please let me express my heart. I can't hold it anymore. I don't wanna feel this way anymore. Let me chatter and chirp and yell and scream. I wasn't allowed to when I was young. I need the freedom to do so now. Allow me to open doors I was never allowed to enter. Please see me in my full complexity. I am more than just a pretty face. I am more than my body. I am a person. I have personality. I have beliefs. I am a benefit to society when I can speak. I am not a waste. I am good as I am. I don't need to bottle my true self to make others comfortable. Free me, please."

They are asking you to allow yourself and your inner child to be themselves. They deserve space to exist freely without having to hide themselves away. I honestly don't need to say much more but I will leave you with one more piece of advice.

"Authenticity is the most powerful way to exist."

___________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Taurus, Aries, Pisces (maybe aquarius)

Song: If My Heart Was a House by Owl City

Vibes: Muted colors, yellow, orange, fairies, sunflowers, barn owl, cat mint, raptors, vase, eyes, beards, lotus, candles, chimneys, diamond, playing cards, hobbits, anime, Apollo, Athena, Aphrodite

Cards: King of Pentacles, Sun, Owls, Ancestors, Gnomes, Aquarius, Venus

Hello and welcome, pile 4. Your inner child is asking me to tell you that you won't find the love you are looking for in other people. You won't find it in romance. You won't find it in friendship. At least not until you can find it in them. They didn't have the luxury of building their life on an identity that was theirs. They don't even know who they are. You need to explore them. Discover yourself in them. Be friends with them. They long for connection and the only one who can give that to them is you. They spent their whole life just trying to survive that they found identity in the pain they experienced. There is so much more to them than victimhood. So much more than their trauma. They are bright as the sun and immensely smart. They are funny and creative. Let yourself and your inner child grow beyond your collective pain and become something more. Your family isn't the pinnacle of humanity. I have a feeling that your family might have a narcissist among them. They are only a facet of humanity, my friend. There is so much more to your life than being approved by others. You are made of magic. You need to see that.

The message I hear from your inner child is, "I'm done striving for love from people who never intend on giving it to me no matter how perfectly I perform. I'm tired chasing something I'm never going to catch up too. I've always known I'm better than that. They made me feel so small though. They made me feel so pointless and useless. I worked so hard for their love but they will only ever love themselves. They will never have enough room in their heart for me. They make me feel like I'm not enough. I want to give myself the love they never could afford for me. I want to be loved so much. I want to be held and cherished the way I deserve to be. I am enough even if they say I'm not. I've always been enough even though I'm small. They are a giant black hole of emptiness and nothing. They are jealous of my light. I wish my older self could see that. I'm not selfish for wanting to be loved. I'm not wrong for wanting to be adored. I'm worth the effort. Please, see that it's true. I want to be known for who I am. I want to be discovered. I wish so deeply to be seen and appreciated. I'm the only one who can do it."

Your inner child is asking something of you. They ask you to take the role of mother and father for yourself. A role that was never filled even if you had your parents in your life. They neglected you. So much so you felt like you didn't deserve love but you desperately craved it. My dear, I will leave you with one last message and then the rest is up to you.

"You are worthy of being loved by you."

[lightsoutletsgo]

love letters; with love from... — cl.16 (part 2/2)

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

word count: >1000

warnings: some brief mentions of angst but nothing to heavy, they're so in love your honor, bad screenshots??

tysm for all the love for part 1! i never expected it to do as well as it did. hopefully you all love part 2 just as much! happy reading! love mimi 🤍

love letters; dear (part 1)

taglist: @arieslost @d3kstar @minkyungseokie @evie-119 @sltwins @maplesyrupsainz @charlesgirl16 @jaydaaasworld @rhythmstars @ravisinghs-wife @itsjustkhaos

You exhaled shakily as your eyes scanned the caption you'd drafted in your notes app. You didn't even tear your eyes away from the screen as Charles slumped down onto the couch next to you. "Everything okay mon amour?" You swallowed and nodded, offering your phone to him so he could read the caption. He was silent for a minute before he turned to look at you, tears in his eyes, "I am so so proud of you." You smiled, feeling yourself getting emotional, sniffling a little as he pulled you into him. You led there with him just enjoying the quiet comfort he provided before he spoke once more, "When are you going to post it?" You giggled and sat up, Charles following suit, "Are you gonna just drop it on instagram with no warning again?" You winked at him before unlocking your phone and typing out the post. Once you'd proofread it you hit 'post', immediately locking your phone and turning your notifications off as they already started pouring in. Charles gaped at you for a moment before scrabbling to find his phone, not struggling to locate it as it buzzed and vibrated constantly with new notifications, "You could have given me time to prepare!"

♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧

y/nsworld

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 25,942,833 y/nsworld here we are, a year later and another surprise for you beautiful people! 'all the things I love to tell you' is out now on streaming platforms everywhere! oh wow, how exciting it is to finally be able to tell you guys about this 🥹 this album is the second half to my healing journey and it's full of love and light and hope for the future. a huge thank you to my company and management for giving me the freedom to release my music in the way I felt I needed to. thank you to my friends for listening to these songs in the car at 3am and crying with me when we realise just how far we've come, for putting up with me stealing their napkins at dinner to write lyrics and for once again holding my hand until I felt ready to take a step on my own. as always, thank you to my incredible fans who inspire me to keep writing and whom without NONE of this would be possible. and finally to my love, charles, thank you for being my muse, my biggest encourager, my musical partner and my rock through the past year. this album is about you, for you and was made with you. thank you for letting me call you the love of my life every day. you're all I need until forever falls apart can't wait to see you all on tour soon! love y/n 🤍

View all 45,730 comments y.nmusic I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN WAIT WHAT? ⤷ ynloverrr ISTG SHE CAN'T KEEP DROPPING ALBUMS ON US LIKE THIS

y/nupdates I'm gonna need someone to dissect everything about this post in a twitter thread 😭

taylorswift I'm so proud of you for this album 💜 can't wait to come and watch you on tour! Comment liked by y/nsworld

sabrinacarpenter I will let you steal my napkins anytime if it means I get songs like pancakes for dinner 😭🫶🏼 Comment liked by y/nsworld

francisca.cgomes I need to breakup with pierre just to experience falling in love with him again with this album Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld babe i love you sm 😭 ⤷ francisca.cgomes baby? i love you more ⤷ pierregasly you're literally MY girlfriend? ⤷ y/nsworld but she's MY wife Comment liked by francisca.cgomes

yncharles oh to be a fly on the wall when lando, lily and alex heard these songs for the first time 😭🥹 ⤷ y/nsworld coming to tikotok and insta reels soon my love 🫶🏼 ⤷ yncharles OMG OMG SHE REPLIED SKSKDKDFKJ ⤷ alex_albon pls don't use the clip of me sobbing over 'that part' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld too late bestie 😄 ⤷ lilymhe I am still not over and will never get over "you might not like her" Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld I will never be over the hug you gave me when I finished playing it to you for the first time

charles_leclerc mon amour, it was an honor to be involved in your music journey and I am so thankful for every day I get to share with you. darling I'd wait for you til forever falls apart 🤍 Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ chachacharles THEY'RE MY ROMAN EMPIRE 😭 ⤷ charlesfann pls tell me someone else noticed charles credited as songwriter on 'til forever falls apart' 😭

ynmylove LETS 👏 TALK 👏 ABOUT 👏 HOW CHARLES AND Y/N USED SONG TITLES IN THEIR COMMENTS TO EACH OTHER 😭 ⤷ charlesandcarlos try not to cry challenge FAILED

on twt:

y/n's q+a on ig:

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/nsworld, maxverstappen1 and 12,942,833 charles_leclerc my incredibly talented girlfriend's album is out now! I am beyond proud to be able to say that she trusted me to help her not only record some of the songs but write them too. I didn't know I was much of a songwriter but looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet ma belle.

everyday you inspire me with your creativity, your passion, your energy and your love for those around you. I could write you a million love songs and there would still be things left to say. you're all I need now until forever falls apart. j'taime mon amour ❤️ (if you haven't heard the album yet make sure you go and listen now!)

View all 45,730 comments y/nsworld I love you more than any love song could ever express. my muse, my love, my life 🤍 Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ ynloverrr OH MY GOD?! I'M SO VIOLENTLY UNWELL OH GOD ⤷ ferrar1 'looking into your eyes suddenly turned me into a poet'

y/nandcharles THEY ARE MY ROMAN EMPIRE

sabrinacarpenter This album is literally on repeat! I cried the first time I heard 'you might not like her' and every time since

charlesforwdc can we all please just appreciate the STUNNING piano in 'so this is love' Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld we were literally just messing about in the studio and decided we liked it enough for the album! ⤷ y/nvocals the fact they were both "messing about" and sound THIS GOOD IS INSANE

maxverstappen1 congrats mate! you nailed this project!

landonorris from sliding into the dm's to collaborating on an album is CRAZY ⤷ y/nsworld LANDO 😭😭 ⤷ f1fannn exCUSE ME? sliding what?! ⤷ charleswifey charles sliding in her dm's is crazy but understandable 😭 ⤷ charles_leclerc try the other way around... 👨‍🦯 ⤷ y/nsworld BABY! 😭

♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧♪₊ ⊹♬˚₊‧

[junedenim]

i want to stay with you, my love

the consequence of having roommates

warnings: smut, age gap, fingerfucking & stuff

word count: 2.5k

It was convenient small talk. Two strangers leaving a party at the same time. The elevator rattles. The building is old. He's old. Well, older. It's unhealthy, daddy issues labeled by some, predatory by others. But he's quiet and cute and he wore a button-up to a party most people wore a T-shirt too—unless you were old like him.

You weren't. I mean, women always tend to put more effort into these kinds of things than men. Most women at the party look like they came from a business meeting or a strip club. You likely fell into the latter. Your coat, a long tweed thing, concealed that fact. It masked you as one of those professionals.

You know he's looking over. He isn't good at hiding these things, most men aren't. They're sleazy and like women to know when they're disgustingly ogling at them. This guy's shyness is endearing. You noticed it when you were the only two people in the hallway waiting for the elevator. Eyes darting over but always facing forward when you looked over. Now, in the elevator, he continues this behavior.

"Going home for the night?" You ask.

He looks over as if unsure you're speaking to him like he isn't the only other human in this tiny elevator. "No," he answers, "headed out for a smoke." British. Interesting and not done since your study abroad semester in London. "You?" His eyebrows are still raised. He's definitely interested. 

"Headed home." You smile. The elevator hits the bottom floor.

He looks down at his watch. You giggle to yourself. What man still owns a watch and actually checks it for the time? "At 10:30? You're either the saddest or the wisest person here tonight." He's smirking, peering down at you as the metal doors open.

Neither of you makes a move to exit the elevator. You smile and look up at him through your eyelashes. "Indulge me and say the wisest." You walk out first but wait for him to join you so you can leave the apartment building together.

"Alright." He's as proper-looking as you can get at 10:30 after several glasses of, what you assume, is whiskey by the smell of it. His hair is buzzed, smooth, and freshly cut. Most notably, he has sunglasses on. At 10:30 at night.

"You mind if I join you for that smoke?" You're flirtatious and suggestive. Everything you need to get the attention of a man at this hour and that attire. 

"Could always use the company." He holds the door open to exit the building first. 

Outside, the air is bitter. Winter has finally come and he looks like he left his jacket upstairs. You almost want to huddle him like a baby rabbit. Your coat a cocoon for his caterpillar. 

He continues his gentlemanly manners by handing a cigarette to you before taking one for himself. The flame sparked from his zippo—yes, a zippo, he might as well pull out a matchbox next time—and a heat spreads on your skin like it's a bonfire. He lights yours first too.

"You Corey Hart or something?" You ask him, taking the first puff.

"Hm?" He wrinkles his brows together. He's got permanent wrinkles too. They're charming like imprints from a life lived. One you have yet to experience. 

"'Sunglasses At Night'?" You clarify. He takes a drag of his and he seems so particular about it. He purses his lips out in one direction when blowing the smoke out, much clearer about it than when you talked the smoke out.

He chuckles. "I didn't think you were old enough to know who Corey Hart is." So, he knows how young you are. Is he into that kind of thing? Are you gonna have to call him daddy tonight? You don't mind it but sometimes that stuff can feel so infantilizing and come from guys who would fuck teenagers if they could.

"Child of the digital age," you reply. He takes his sunglasses off then. "You don't have to take them off at my teasing."

"No, no, I just want to see you clearer." He's good.

"And how do I look?" Your lips pout and you take a drag hoping the smoke will elicit memories of burning fires for him.

He eyes you up and down, from those chipped colouring of your stilettos to the fly-aways on your head. "Fucking pulchritudinous."

"Excuse me?" Big words, drunk brain.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

"You using big words to compensate for something?"

He laughs. He laughs at you insulting his manhood. Most men are bitter about that kind of thing. He's throwing his head back and the smoke floods its way out through his nose. "Demonstrating length."

An equal-sparing partner. An even more tempting offer than a simple man. He's attractive, looks like he has money if the watch is anything to go by, intellectual, and—allegedly—has a big cock. You tilt your head. "Oh, yeah?"

"What direction are you going?" He asks.

"I thought you were just heading out for a smoke. Won't your friends be concerned?" Or your girlfriend or wife? 

He shakes his head. "Nah, they'll figure it out soon enough. I'm not the type of guy to get kidnapped."

"Who's to say I'm not going to kidnap you?"

He smirks. "I think I'd like you holding me hostage."

You dramatically blink your lashes. "What about me? Am I safe?"

He raises his eyebrows. "From kidnapping? Yes."

"And from other things?"

"Depends on what they are."

You would consider yourself a good judge of character so you wordlessly start walking down 1st Street. He discards his cigarette and walks beside you. "I don't live too far. Could've walked myself home." You feel the need to make that clear. That you're the independent woman who carries pepper spray in her purse. 

"I don't doubt that," he says. 

You don't even know his name. Something about that is alluring. A complete and total stranger, but you're still curious. "Where's that accent from?"

"British," he answers.

You giggle. "I got that far."

"I'm from up north. Sheffield."

You hum. "I don't know why I bothered asking. I suck at geography."

He teases, "I live in LA now. Do you know where that is?"

"Don't be a smartass now."

"What about yours? I got the American part."

You shake your head. "You're not gonna know. It's a tiny, little thing." You put your index finger and thumb within a centimeter of one another. "I just say LA now. I've lived here since I was 18."

"And what was that? 2 years ago," he jokes.

You slap him with your purse. You quietly laugh too. "I'm 24," you clarify. "What are you? 50?"

He clutches his heart. "You wound me. I was born in 1986 if you can do the math on that one."

You roll your eyes. "Too ashamed to say it out loud."

He switches the subject. "Who do you know up there?"

You ask, "At the party?" He nods. "A friend of a friend. You?"

"Just a friend. My friend."

"How evasive?"

"You're the enigma here."

You hum. You stop walking. It amuses you how quickly he follows your move. You walk up the stairs to your building, unlocking the door. He follows behind, no invitation. "We can sit in the lobby." You gesture him to the ottoman across from the mailboxes. 

You take out your vape, offering a hit to me. "You can smoke in here?"

You shrug. "Everyone else does." 

"And you choose to smoke that thing?" He sounds like your father. It makes you giggle.

"You've never even tried it. Have you?" You take a hit from it.

He plucks a cigarette out from his pack, sitting it between his lips as he rests on the ottoman. You take your place beside him. "I'll stick with me cigarettes."

You chuckle at his accent. Sure, you like smoking, but you like watching him smoke more. He wraps his lips around the cigarette and hollows his cheeks. It's an arousing sight to watch. You want to reach out and trace his jawline. 

"How drunk are you?" He asks.

Considering you had been at the party for only close to an hour and it hadn't quite hit the hour where everyone was drowning in alcohol, your intake had been light. "Two drinks, not very."

"That's good."

"Why?" You smirk over him. The smoke allures you to him, dragging you unconsciously closer to his body. 

"I really wanna fuck you."

A vibration rang through you. You sigh, "My roommate is probably home." You lean back against the wall. His eyes follow you everywhere. You look up at him wide-eyed and seductive. 

"Worried you can't keep quiet?"

You giggle. "I'm worried about you." She taps his nose and he scrunchs it up. He looks so young when he does it. 10 years gone like that.

"I can't believe I didn't see you at the party." You exhale twin streams of smoke from your nostrils. 

"I came late. It's stupid, but I couldn't decide what to wear. It's a kind of social anxiety but with clothes, just clothes, I think. I changed like a hundred times. That's another reason you can't come up. I already have too many clothes lying about on my floor."

"What did you end up wearing?" He's staring at you like he has X-ray vision.

"Oh, just this thing I made."

"Can I see?"

You raise an eyebrow. You take the cigarette from his hands and take a puff. "See!" He exclaims. "Even you prefer it."

"Hush," you say. You press the cigarette between your lips and stand to unbutton the black buttons of the coat. What you're wearing is little of anything. A pink, so pale it's almost white. mini dress so short he's sure if you bent over he could see your underwear. The garment fits you like a glove, obviously hand-tailored to fit. 

"You made that?"

You nod. "It's a hobby of mine."

"Let me come upstairs," he says.

"No," you say, sitting back down. "We'll definitely have sex if you come up." You grind your cigarette on the metal stair tread. "What time is it?" You reach over for his wrist before he can look himself. "11, hm."

"This isn't right. Don't let some roommates get in the way of your fun."

You raise an eyebrow and suppress a smile. "My fun? I think you mean your fun."

"Our fun."

You think for a minute. Hum and look around the room. Then, back at him. "No, but I'll check if they are here for you." 

You stand and shrug your coat off fully, throwing it over your arm. He's worked up a heat in that lobby. He follows you up to the second landing just outside your apartment door. You shake your head disappointed. "Two sets of shoes." You gesture to the dirty Converses outside the door. "They're both home."

He's luring, standing over you with a look that makes you weak in the knees, unable to move. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating when he pulls your body against his, like an open fire in the woods. He looks down at you, determined and unhesitating, and says flatly, "How sad." 

He leans down with a kiss: full-on and inflaming. Your skin burns from the inside out. The taste of whiskey lingers on his lips; the tenderness of his kiss is a surprise. The tip of his nose bumps into yours as you sink into the kiss. His kisses are long and slow, matching the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

He breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Let me feel your pussy. Yeah?"

You're hypnotized and with a nod and a returning kiss, his hand slides up your thigh, up to the hem of your panties, and carefully finds the skin underneath. Your breath hitches in your throat and you part your legs, as though powerless to resist. 

His breathing sinfully against your ear. Then, he slips one finger inside you. It's rough, almost desperate, but enough to make you throb for more. Biting back a moan, you lean against the door to find some much-needed balance.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, nearly groaning the words against your neck, taking a bite at it. Two digits in, he continues fingerfucking you slowly while circling his thumb around your clit.

He stares right into your eyes like he wants to see every sensation he's causing, he keeps bringing you closer and closer to the edge—and you're fucking ready to jump. With heavy breaths and electricity running up and down your body, you melt into his touch, doing your best to stare back at him. To you, it's a fucking challenge.

"Fuck," you moan. He grins.

You grab the back of his head, roughly in a desperate attempt to gain some control, but can't keep yourself from moaning loudly when he starts fervently kissing your neck like a fucking tootsie pop and he's trying to get to the middle. He pulls his fingers out and slides them up, rubbing my clit with just the tip of his index.

Then, you hear an upstairs door slam shut. You quickly come to a conscious state and reach down to push his hand away. He gets the message and helps you fix the skirt of your dress. He looks so rough and tempestuous but acts so precious and sweet, you want to keep him like a stray dog.

He pulls away when the footsteps down the stairs increase in volume. You act as if you are looking for your keys in your purse. He reaches down and takes a handful of your ass. You gasp and look up at him and spot who is skipping down the stairs. "Hey, Britt!" Too cheery but you always were an overactor in your middle school plays. "Where you headed?"

Brittany was a couple of years older than you. She's one of the few people you could consider a friend in your building. The rest were either crackheads and/or cat ladies that'll die in their own vomit. Brittany and her roommate were fun.

"Headed to Brad's for the night." Her on-and-off-again boyfriend. They were either back together now or booty calling.

"Have fun!"

She eyes him—you really should get his name—before she rounds the landing's railing. She can probably see his hand on your ass. "You too!"

You look at him as he watches for Brittany waiting to see her exit. Then, he snaps back and attacks your lips. His hands are quick, spreading up your thigh again. He touches your clit and you feel rushed.

"Oh, fuck—"

He moves his mouth way down your neck, gently biting your collarbone and your knees nearly give out, but he steadies you with his free hand. The pressure on your sweet spot; his lips wantingly kissing every inch of exposed skin; the audacity of this man.

It doesn't take long, a few more rubs and then he pinches your clit and you let go, unable to hold on any longer, and fall into him. Heart pounding, you revel in the euphoric feeling like a sinner who's found God. He holds you up until you find your footing. Your foreheads pressed together as you share shallow breathing nearly in sync. 

You laugh like a giddy little girl. "You're ambitious."

"Lucky you were wearing a dress and not down on your knees." His voice is low and husky, only weakening your guard.

"You probably would have already came by the time she interrupted."

"Wanna test it?"

*

a/n: this might be the prequel to "everything is romantic." i can't help it if all i do is write prequels & sequels!