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writerpeach · 4 months

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A White Christmas

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

1153 words, semi-smutless but still 18+, unedited, just a little something short and sweet for Christmas

part 4 of annyeongz

It’s nearly midnight.

The fireplace crackles on a cold Christmas Eve, but you’re not lacking in warmth one bit. With Wonyoung and Yujin snuggled up next to you, a warm mug of cocoa in your hands, and this gorgeous snowfall that doesn’t seem to have any end in sight, you have everything you could ask for. There’s a marathon of cheesy movies playing in the background that’s gone mostly ignored—but you enjoy the cheesy, the clichés, and the overly-happy-ever-after endings, because sometimes a little bit of escapism hits the spot.

Wonyoung seems completely fascinated by snow, like every snowstorm is the first one she’s ever seen. And there’s something so special about it, how the snowflakes stick to the window, slowly blanketing everything as the night carries on; there’s something so pure and innocent about the never-ending white flurries—not unlike these two pretty girls on either side of you, although certainly their purity has been in question at times.

Yujin is more focused on the fireplace, her soft brown eyes watching intently while Wonyoung indulges in stealing little pecks from the side of your cheek, the corner of your mouth, wherever she can land kisses without you turning your head, whenever the inclination hits her. It’s not dissimilar the way the snowflakes coat the ground, falling here, falling there, and everywhere in between.

“When are we opening presents?” Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, her bright eyes look up at you expectantly, as her plump lips look so inviting for another kiss that you can’t help dive into.

You look at the time and cock an eyebrow; there’s still a few minutes left until the clock strikes midnight. Your finger runs along the rim of your warm mug, and it’s hard not wanting to oblige Wonyoung as you take a sip, because patience and her go together like oil and water. Despite your efforts, Wonyoung knows you’re weak for that adorable pouty face, and you can only fight it for so long,

“When it’s Christmas,” Yujin pipes up, a smile spreading over her pretty lips. “But only good girls get presents…”

Watching the pout deepen on Wonyoung’s lips, you look around the room, at the stockings above the fireplace, and the presents underneath the tree that are mostly for you. (Because god, these girls are impossible to shop for when they can buy anything their heart desires.)

You can only imagine what’s in those wrapped boxes piled around the tree. Car keys? An expensive watch? A dozen different gift cards with an obscenely almost unlimited limit? There’s nothing that you really need, but you can’t deny these two another chance of spoiling you against your better judgment.

“But I am a good girl. Right, daddy?” It doesn’t take long for you to share a laughter with Yujin, as if Wonyoung hasn’t behaved anything less than sinful.

“Pretty sure Santa is going to skip right on over this place then. After the way you were screaming daddy in the shower earlier...you might be on the naughty list forever, princess." Yujin smirks devilishly, and Wonyoung huffs out loud, like she’s been told Christmas is canceled.

“Fine. Santa can’t give me what I want anyways. Only daddy can…” Wonyoung whines cutely, nuzzling her head against your shoulder and kisses into your neck. You hesitate giving any reaction, knowing all too well what she really wants. It isn’t under the tree, or in the stocking—

“Dear daddy, I want a big load on my face for Christmas.” Wonyoung says it all cute and pouty, which makes it even more absurd, but she does that on purpose, knowing that the innocent girl facade is her secret weapon to getting what she wants. You roll your eyes and set the warm mug down, as you know if this keeps up you’re not going to finish it.

“But you get that every day. Sometimes more than once. It has to be something you don't get often," Yujin says. Wonyoung shoots a glare in her direction and looks offended that Yujin could ever suggest otherwise, as if she’s forgotten how regularly she’ll whine to get whatever she wants.

“I didn’t get it yesterday. Daddy came inside Yujinnie. Twice. And I only got a taste. So that doesn't count. I need another big, creamy load for Christmas. An extra thick one.”

Wonyoung makes this the most ludicrous request, as if she's asking for the last slice of cake.

The thing is, Wonyoung is as insatiable as Yujin. There have been countless occasions where you've unloaded deep inside one of these two beauties and before you're even halfway recovered, the other starts tugging your dick back to hardness so she can have her turn. You know what they’re capable of, and that’s precisely the issue—

“Don’t be greedy on Christmas, princess,” Yujin warns, and the look on her face makes you shiver, even if you aren't even on the receiving end of that look. "Daddy can stuff your stocking later."

Wonyoung ignores it, of course, because she’s doing this bratty routine she’s done a thousand times, trying to get her way. There’s surprising restraint from Yujin, who’s always so eager to add fuel to the fire, as if it gets her off just to have Wonyoung push boundaries, because they both know they have you wrapped around their pretty little finger.

"But I've been so good. Haven't I, daddy? I sucked your dick this morning while you were still sleeping, until you came in my mouth... and when Yujin was riding you earlier in the kitchen, I waited so patiently until she was finished. And then I cleaned her all up when you came inside of her, daddy…”

"Oh my god. Shut up," Yujin groans and leans in for a kiss to stop the whining. You look at the time—midnight has come and gone, and these two are already just going at it, swapping saliva right over your lap, and it’s better than anything that’ll fit under that tree.

“Merry Christmas, daddy,” Yujin says and leans in to exchange kisses with you, parting her lips for this deep embrace that you get lost in far too easily. You’re too breathless to respond, because Yujin’s kisses always leave your head spinning in the best possible way.

“Merry Christmas,” you say in return, as she gives one more lingering kiss, and you both know Wonyoung is right there waiting her turn, getting all whiny for attention. “Merry Christmas, princess.”

You kiss Wonyoung, and it’s like you can taste Yujin on her lips, which makes it seem as if you’re kissing them both at the same time. Not that you have complaints about being caught in the middle of these two making out, because when you’re not swapping between their lips, you’re getting the best possible view.

“So…presents?” Wonyoung asks, which makes Yujin giggle at how shameless she is, as she goes back to sealing those lips shut with another kiss. And you know that whatever happens in this room is going to end how it always does, with them both sharing you—

And that is their ultimate Christmas gift.

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Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Monday!

Wanted to put out a little thing to end the year on, a little epilogue to the annyeongz series, something that wasn't a billion words long and didn't have a reliance of smut.

This year was a bit difficult, but I'm so thankful for everyone who continues to read, comment, send asks (even though im bad at answering), or just lurks on this mess of a blog 💞

#IVE #Wonyoung #Yujin #reader insert #christmas #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #annyeongz

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lovedazai · 4 months

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GINGERBREAD LOVER . . . nanami helps you bake christmas cookies.

ft. nanami + f!reader, domestic fluff, christmas time, i miss him so bad i just want him back

it isn’t the absence of his suit or the knowledge his phone is silenced that helps nanami relax; it’s you, messing about in his kitchen as if it were your own.

a comfortable silence falls over his apartment, interrupted only by the soft crinkle of the newspaper between his fingers and the sound of you humming from the other room. the flurries that he woke up to have quickly grown into a snowstorm, and he’s grateful you spent the previous night with him. the warmth of the fireplace blocks out the chill creeping in, soothing his recovering body from the mission he was assigned the day before, but nothing soothed him more than your presence, like a balm to his being.

that’s why it doesn’t take long before he seeks you out, grabbing his apron from its hook on the wall as he joins you in the kitchen. you’re already wearing your own, hair pushed back, giving him a full view of your pretty face when you smile up at him.

“what do you need me to do?” he ties the cotton straps into a bow around his waist. your smile falls into a pout.

“nothing, kento. you’re supposed to be relaxing today.”

“this is me relaxing,” he kisses the crease between your eyebrows away. “i’d like to spend time with you, if you’ll let me.”

you’re already halfway to his lips, a mumbled “i love you, y’know?” against his mouth as your fingers brush his unstyled bangs out of his eyes. “can you start on the dry ingredients? the recipe is on my phone.”

it’s resting on the edge of the counter, christmas music softly playing from your speaker. you’ve already lined up all of the ingredients, and he’s careful not to get anything on your screen as he scrolls through the instructions.

he measures each ingredient precisely to the gram against the background of the mixer’s hums as you cream the butter and brown sugar together. the sweet scent of cinnamon and cloves wafts through the air as he whisks the flour and the spices together.

his hands settle against your hips as he passes behind you to get to the fridge. he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss the junction of your neck, hands lingering on you until you’re out of his reach.

you have a peaceful smile on your face as you crack the egg he grabbed into the mixing bowl, and it’s hard to keep his eyes off you when you look so relaxed. he hates that it’s a rare sight for him lately; something deep inside his chest aches imagining all of the soft moments he must’ve missed.

the groans of the mixer die down as he adds the dry ingredients slowly, beige clouds puffing above the bowl in protest. he watches out of the corner of his eye as you look over his shoulder to peek at the dough, scooping some onto your finger, eyes glistening as you taste it. “this is so good!”

“don’t eat too much of that,” he says flatly. the look he gives you is unamused. “you’ll get sick.”

“maybe,” he feels you drop from your tippy toes to rest your forehead against his back, kissing the space between his shoulder blades and sliding your arms around his waist. “but you’ll take care of me, right?”

“always,” he says without hesitation. he dusts his hands with flour, scooping the dough out of the bowl.

he rolls it out with ease, only pausing to let you swipe a stray streak of flour off his cheek. he watches fondly as you stamp out shapes with some cutters you found in the back of one of his cabinets. you smile up at him proudly as soon as you finish arranging all of the cookies on the baking sheet, safely placing them behind the closed door of the oven.

the music still plays softly from your phone. it’s an old song now, one he’s heard almost every winter he can recall, but he still can’t resist pulling you towards his chest. your hands are warm when they wrap around his shoulders, thumbs rubbing the lines of muscle along his back. his hands fit perfectly in the dip of your waist, and he sways you gently.

“are you okay, kento?” you tilt your head, stroking along the edge of his undercut. “you’re so lovey today.”

“i know,” he rests his forehead against yours. “i’m making up for lost time.”

he feels your smile against his lips as you kiss him, one hand curled around the back of his neck, the other cradling his face, the soft pads of your thumbs tracing his cheekbones. you pull away and rest your head against his shoulder and he swears the rest of the world melts away; it always seems to when you’re around. it’s just you, smiling against his collarbone, and him, rubbing little circles against your lower back. you’re only interrupted by the shrill beep of the oven timer, and with one last lingering kiss, you pull away.

he leans against the counter, simply watching you. there’s something so endearing about you with oven mitts on, peaking through the cracked oven door, dressed in your comfiest clothes. he hopes he gets to see you like this for the rest of his life, intertwined in his daily routine. the smell of cinnamon and brown sugar mingled with the heat from the oven only further warms his heart.

the cookies are perfect, all smooth, crisp edges and soft, puffy centers. you bump your head against his bicep.

“you’re so good at everything. it’s unfair,” your voice muffled in his shirt. “will you help me decorate them too?”

“of course,” he kisses the crown of your head, stroking down your hair with the palm of his hand.

the plastic bags dribble beads of icing onto the table. you bump your feet gently against his from where you sit across from him, the fluffy fabric of your socks rubbing against his leg from where his pants don’t quite reach his ankle.

you smile when you hold up your decorated gingerbread man. it has two large dots for eyes, a straight line for a mouth, and a tie sloppily piped onto its chest. there’s a crack down the right side of its little body.

“it’s you!” you beam, trying to peek at his. “if i was a cookie, would you eat me?”

“yes,” he hums. “you’d be too sweet to resist.”

he holds yours up to you, complete with iced fuzzy socks, little pajama shorts, rosy cheeks, and a cute smile. his lines are all perfect, hands steady and precise. your smile is contagious, and you put cookie-nanami next to you, touching their little gingerbread hands together.

you give him a look he knows not to argue with when he tries to help you clean up. he watches the snow continue to fall outside with his arms crossed against his chest, eyes landing on the gingerbread house the students built earlier that week. itadori had proudly presented it to him, uneven slanted walls and all. it rests on the table near his windowsill, a snowy tokyo in the background.

he carries the cookies gently in the palm of his hand. he places them together, right in front of the frosted door. it looks absolutely perfect, and he smiles, imagining the day the real version of him will stand there with you, in front of a house of your very own, with the rest of the world melting away.

JJK MASTERLIST

p.s.! ₊˚. tagging mrs nanami ofc !! @kentopedia

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk imagines

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angelicyoongie · 4 months

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lovesick (XIII)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous - Next

You flip to another page in Jungkook's textbook. You absentmindedly worry your bottom lip between your teeth, concentration high, as you look for any information that might be helpful for his assignment.

Despite the pleading look he gave you when he asked for your assistance, you know that he would be able to handle the paper perfectly fine on his own. It feels like another lifetime ago now, but you do remember how quickly he finished up the shared assignment you had in Ms. Eun's class. Jungkook had practically written the whole thing in just a matter of days.

But, even though you know you're not needed, it's still nice to feel included; like you're doing something that matters instead of just wasting away in the cabin. As long as you ignore the crackling fireplace next to you, you can almost imagine that you're back on campus, working with Jungkook in the library like you did back then. You can't even begin to describe how much you miss doing things that aren't just playing house.

The thought makes a burst of irritation flash through you as you turn to another page, causing you to bite down too hard on the soft flesh of your lip.

Jungkook yelps on the other side of the table as he feels the sting, instinctively touching his mouth in an attempt to soothe the pain.

"Y/n, are you okay?" He gives you a worried look.

You release your lip with a soft pop, chuckling awkwardly to hide your souring mood as you say, "Sorry, I think I was concentrating too hard."

Jungkook furrows his brow with a low hum, eyes lingering on your mouth. You feel like you can see the thought that forms on his face, his eyes lighting up as he gets an idea.

"Ah!" He makes a small noise, quickly clambering to his feet, "I think I know something that can help. I'll be right back!"

"Sure," You nod. You plop your head back to rest on the couch behind you, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jungkook hurries to the kitchen.

You let out a soft sigh when he's out of sight, the sounds of him opening and closing different cupboards fading into the background as you stare up at the ceiling. The past week has been weird. You don't want to call it unexpected based on what caused it, but the last seven days have been surprisingly nice at the cabin. The boys have started giving your tight leash some slack, allowing you to stay in a room alone if they need to leave it to grab something. It's not for more than a few minutes at the time but with how they've been constantly watching you for a month, it's been a more than welcome change. They've given you a sliver of trust and you're finding yourself desperate to hold on to it.

You know what the reason behind it is, of course, you'd be a fool not to.

The shift was notable in the air that morning you awkwardly shuffled out of Jimin's room, the back of your neck sore from the hickeys he had proudly decorated your skin with. You felt awfully exposed by the six pairs of eyes that scanned you from top to bottom, burning with jealousy as Jimin came up behind you to plant a wet kiss over one of his marks. Namjoon's eye had twitched as he pulled back, Jimin no doubt sporting a smug smile behind your back.

It had only taken a second before Hoseok had stormed over to wrap you up in a hug, pulling you away from Jimin and over to the rest in the common room. They felt like territorial puppies with the way all of them made sure they got to touch you and hug you as if they were leaving their own marks behind too. As you were passed between arms you kept catching them looking at your neck, their eyes longing. It was only when all the attention started getting a little overwhelming that you ran away to the bathroom, escaping under the guise of needing a shower.

You hadn't had much time to think about what happened with Jimin until you came face to face with yourself in the mirror, the evidence of the night before staring right back at you. Leaning on the sink, you studied how your skin proudly displayed the marks left behind by Jimin's lips, how your eyes held a shine that you hadn't seen in a long while. Your soul and by extension, your body, was glowing in the aftermath of your intimacy with Jimin.

Guilt climbed its way up your throat so fast it made you gag. You knew that spending the night with Jimin – letting him touch you like that – was terrible, that you were letting yourself down by giving in, but even then you couldn't find it in yourself to hate what had happened. You didn't feel disgusted and that in itself made you feel even more ashamed. How could you not feel bad about letting your stalker, one of your kidnappers, get you off like that? How could you like it? You could blame the bond all you wanted but perhaps it was time to face the fact that you were just weak; easily broken by the connection you had always craved.

You rub your forehead with a sigh.

Jungkook is humming a low tune in the kitchen, the sound of crinkling plastic accompanying it as he pours something into a bowl.

You can mull the situation over all you want but you doubt you'll ever get a definitive answer. What you do know is that there is no use denying that your night with Jimin didn't change anything – for them and you. Despite your best efforts, you are starting to grow fond of them and as much as it pains you to admit, you doubt that it'll be the only time you let any of them touch you. Jimin's touch felt right, good, and you're tired of feeling lonely and isolated.

You think the others have noticed your wavering will, their affections increasing in turn. They have slowly been testing your boundaries, stretching them thinner and thinner day by day. You've come to expect the hands that slip under your shirt when someone leans in for a hug, warm fingertips caressing your waist and back as they hold you close. They let their touches linger longer too, gauging how long you'll allow it before you start to grow uncomfortable. Hoseok and Seokjin have taken a particular shine to resting their hand possessively on your thigh whenever they're seated beside you, the placement inching a little higher every time. Even so, there's still some resemblance of respect in their actions, in how they always stop whenever you show signs of discomfort. It's obvious they're impatient to share the same kind of intimacy with you as Jimin did, but they seem to understand that letting you come to them on your own terms is the best option.

You lift your head as Jungkook returns from the kitchen, straightening yourself up as he rounds the table to plop down next to you on the ground.

"Here!" He exclaims as he places a bowl in front of you, filled with a colourful variety of your favourite kind of candy. "I brought the chewy gummies you like! If you chew on those then you won't hurt your lip if you get distracted again."

The unexpectedly sweet gesture sends a rush of warmth through your body, your cheeks heating under Jungkook's adoring gaze. He reaches out, taking your hand in his. A small furrow appears between his brows, his lips pouting slightly as he says, "I saw you spacing out, are you okay?"

"I know you're upset about missing out on so many assignments but you don't have to be! Namjoon hyung has already applied for you to postpone your studies so you won't lose your spot. I'll help you catch up whenever it's time for you to go back, I promise."

You blink, taken aback that Namjoon had the forethought to do so. You figured you must've already been thrown out of your program by now, having missed out on too many important midterms in just your first month here. The fact that they cared enough about the after to do this for you, does give you a glimmer of hope that you will get out of this cabin at some point, that you will be able to rejoin society in some capacity once they deem you ready – broken – enough.

Jungkook has such an earnest expression on his face, like he genuinely believes they've done you a favour as he says, "Hoseok hyung even quit your job for you! You don't have to worry about anything, Y/n, we have it all under control."

They have it under control. The reality of the situation feels like a smack to the face. While their intentions may have been pure, at least in some aspects, the truth is that the boys have been slowly cutting off all and any ties you have to your old life. The implication is obvious; when you're allowed to go back, it won't be to anything you know.

"What about my apartment?" You ask.

What about my things? My life?

"We're keeping it for now. It would seem weird if we break the lease early when your friend–" Jungkook cuts himself off with a strangled cough, "I mean, the lease is up in a few months anyway! So Jimin hyung said it's better to just grab the rest of your stuff then."

Your stomach sinks at the off-handed mention of Heejun and Jaemin. They haven't been brought up at all since that night but you can tell it's only a matter of time before you'll have to reach out to them. The frown on Jimin's face seems to grow deeper with every return from his shift. It's obvious your friends have no intention of backing down and that Jimin is reaching the last of his rope trying to fend them off.

You still have no idea how you're going to successfully get Heejun to back off. You know your friends, you know they'll see right through you if you try to convince them that everything is fine, so how in the world are you going to accomplish this? It's not like you can ask any of the boys for help, either. You're in this alone and only you can keep them out of harm's way.

You startle slightly as Jungkook squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your ruminating thoughts.

"Do you know why I'm so close to Dasom noona?"

It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook has jumped to another topic – that he's talking about Ms. Eun. He's not subtle in his attempt to distract you from your troubled mind, but a small part of you appreciates it all the same. You've been thinking about Heejun and Jaemin so much that you feel like you've started to go backward, like the solution is slipping further away with every new idea that strikes you.

"No," You shake your head.

"You know I'm not close with my parents, that they didn't treat me well," Jungkook adverts his gaze down to your joined hands, "They have a lot of money, so my aunt and uncle always bent themselves backward trying to cater to their whims. They were desperate for something extra to fill their pockets with so they didn't care that their joy came from my suffering. I wasn't the son my parents wanted, I c-couldn't be. I wasn't perfect, so in their eyes, I wasn't worth the trouble. My parents' obvious distaste for me painted a target on my back and my family is known for being ruthless when there's something they want."

Jungkook lets out a bitter snort, jaw tense as he soothes his thumb across your knuckles. "The only one that made family gatherings bearable was my oldest cousin – he was too grown to be swayed by my parents. He was the only one that ever cared, the only one that never mocked me for my s-stutter."

The pain in Jungkook's voice is almost tangible. You can't imagine having your entire family turn against you just because of a small speech disorder; just because you're not cookie-cutter perfect. From the small glimpses Jungkook has shared from his past and tidbits of information you've overheard over the past months, you think it's safe to assume that Jungkook is part of the Jeon family – the ones that run the city, pulling strings behind the curtains without ever showing themselves on stage. They're the definition of old money, seemingly satisfied to have complete control over a decently sized city instead of fighting for power in the major ones. You don't doubt they would be willing to cut Jungkook loose if they notice his strings fraying, desperate to uphold their perfect image. It's clear the trauma of it all runs deep for Jungkook, his stutter always becomes more prominent whenever he brings up his past.

"Oh, Jungkook," You murmur, heart squeezing at how such a sweet person could be so horribly mistreated by his own family. It makes sense that Jungkook would latch on to the other boys so firmly, idolize them, if they're one of the few who have given him the love and comfort he never got at home.

Jungkook shifts a little closer at the sound of your voice, subconsciously seeking comfort as he picks at old wounds.

"When my parents finally cut me off and left me to fend for myself, I lived on my cousin's couch for a few months before Seokjin hyung hired me. My cousin had been dating Dasom noona for a little over a year already then, so we had briefly met a few times. I felt terrible for always being in their business but noona said she was always thrilled to see me – that I was like the younger brother she never had," Jungkook smiles softly.

"I moved out as quickly as I could to give them privacy but I never lost touch with them. They're part of the reason I'm able to attend university; they're covering half of my tuition. My cousin held a big speech about how he's investing in the future or something like that, he refused to take no for an answer," He lets out a fond snort, shaking his head. "I really care about them a lot. Hyung and noona are planning on getting married next year, but I hope she keeps her own name. She's too good to be a Jeon."

"They sound like they're pretty great," You murmur.

"They are," Jungkook agrees. His face suddenly brightens up as he seems to recall a particular memory, "I ran into my mom once, after everything that happened. I was out with hyung and noona, and Dasom noona was amazing at telling her all these half-truths that made it seem like I was thriving without my parents. She insulted my mother to her face over and over in the sweetest way possible and I doubt my mom realized what had even happened until she was already on her way home."

"Good," You allow your lips to quirk, "I'm glad she stood up for you."

"Yeah," Jungkook glances up at you, his big doe eyes staring you down for a second before he swallows thickly. His cheeks flush as he quietly admits, "Dasom noona was the first person I told about you. I know I shouldn't have but I didn't know how to approach you, so noona offered to help. She came up with the idea to pair us together for our project when I realized we were taking the same class."

"Please don't think too badly of her, she only wanted to help!" He hurries to add, gripping your hand tightly.

You know Ms. Eun – Dasom – to be impressive just from the many awards and accomplishments she has rightfully displayed around her office. But, listening to Jungkook sing her praises like this, it makes you realize that it takes someone very special to practically adopt your boyfriend's cousin as your own brother and love him as such. It's no wonder they seem so close, why Ms. Eun was so protective of him. Jungkook has a kind heart, she said. Even with his stalker tendencies, you know that to be true.

"Hyung and noona don't know about our.. uhm, c-circumstances, just that we're spending time together to work on our bond. The wedding will be happening in the spring and noona really wants us to come, if you want to. She's very excited to see you again!"

Spring. It's not that far away. Maybe four, five months? You have no idea what the boys have planned for you, but Ms. Eun's wedding might be one of your only chances at seeing people again. If you play your cards right, you might even be able to slip away. Escape.

You try to tamper down the rush of emotion that courses through you, the adrenaline urging you to go go go. Five months is a long time, long enough for you to break, to lose yourself entirely if you're not careful – but also enough to win their full trust.

"I would love to, Jungkookie," You grin, elated that you finally have something to look forward to. A small light at the end of this endless, dark tunnel.

A brilliant smile blooms on Jungkook's face at the use of his nickname, his eyes sparkling like tiny stars. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. It's comfortable, comforting even, to feel his muscular arms holding you steady, your chin hooked over his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you melt into Jungkook's embrace, hugging him back.

"Thank you, Y/n, that's going to make Dasom noona really happy," Jungkook murmurs. He tucks his face against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply before he sighs and says, "And it makes me very happy too."

You make a non-committal sound in return, stroking his back. It's not the wedding you're excited about but there is no way you're going to tell Jungkook that. You know how devastated he'll be once you run away, so you can spare him the hurt for now.

Jungkook isn't innocent in all of this but he isn't the mastermind behind everything either. His betrayal still stings and you think it always will, but the months you've spent here have slowly been mellowing it out, making it more bearable. Enough that you almost find yourself willing to forget about it.

"Can I ask you something?" Jungkook's voice is soft against your skin.

"Yeah," You say.

"That night with Jimin hyung, did you... did you kiss him? It's okay if you did! I'm just– curious."

The unexpected question gives you a slight pause. You figured Jimin would've told the others everything by now but it appears he hasn't. You're honestly surprised that vague is even a word in Jimin's dictionary.

"No, we didn't kiss."

"That's good. I mean–!" Jungkook pulls back, expression panicked as his gaze flits across your face. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. You're allowed to kiss Jimin hyung or any of the other hyungs if you want, it-it's not my business. Well, it is? But also not!"

"It's okay, Jungkook. What are you trying to say?" You ask, half-amused.

Jungkook shyly ducks his head, palms warm against your middle as he says, "Sorry. What I want to say is; Can I be the first to kiss you? Please? I-I'd really like that."

"Yeah," You breathe, the answer coming a little too easy, a little too quickly, "You can kiss me."

You can perhaps fool yourself into thinking it's all just a means to an end, but the way your heart skips a beat as Jungkook brings a hand up to cup your face, fingers shaking, doesn't lie. You want to kiss him. Perhaps it's your soulbond, perhaps it's just Jungkook, but a part of you likes him. Enough to make your heart flutter whenever he's near.

Jungkook always looks at you so reverently – like you're something precious. Something to be cherished.

You can't help it. You're only human, after all, seeking love and comfort where it's easily available to you.

He wets his lips, nervous, as he slowly begins to lean in. His brown eyes are glued to your mouth, wide and wondrous as if he can't believe that he's allowed to kiss you.

Your eyelids flutter shut as Jungkook thumbs across your cheek, tilting your head just so before he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, warm, and Jungkook's mouth tastes faintly of something sweet. He moves his mouth cautiously against yours, testing the waters for what you'll permit.

There are no sparks that fly when your lips meet, no fireworks that ignite behind your closed eyes – but a steady warmth that slowly engulfs you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It feels like part of you is coming home, like an important piece is slotting into place. Your head feels light and airy, heart thumping in your chest as if it's trying to reach out for Jungkook.

You clutch the back of his shirt, leaning into the kiss to deepen it. Jungkook lets out a soft whimper when you part your mouth, your tongue teasing at his bottom lip until he lets you in. You're not sure if it's Jungkook's breaths or yours that are shaky when you slip inside, your tongue brushing just the faintest touch against his.

"Y/n," Jungkook suddenly pulls back with a gasp.

You open your eyes to find Jungkook's screwed shut as if he's in pain, cheeks flushed as he quickly retreats his hands into his lap.

"Are you okay?" You hesitate to reach out to touch him again, having yanked them away at the sound of his gasp. You tentatively settle a hand on Jungkook's knee, seeing his nose scrunch as he lets out a labored breath.

"I'm fine," Jungkook awkwardly shifts away from your touch, his hands moving just enough to expose the bulge straining against his jeans.

"Oh," You clear your throat, heat rushing up the back of your neck. You barely kissed and Jungkook is this affected by it?

"Have you not?–"

"No. I've been with people before, it's j-just–" Jungkook shakes his head, biting his lip in embarrassment at having to clarify that he's not a blushing virgin, it's just that, "It's not the same. Everything feels more when it's with you."

"Jungkook," You breathe, a little stricken at the confession. It's hard for you to fathom that your kiss was that special. You don't feel the bond in the same way as they do, your feelings dulled by six other souls pulling you in their direction. For the first time since all of this started, you almost feel bad for them. You can almost understand their desperation in wanting to share something with you, even if they know you'll never fully feel the same way as they do.

"Please, um– Just excuse me for a minute? I-I need to go deal with this," Jungkook seems too lost in his embarrassment to have picked up on your mood shift. His eyes stay glued to the floor as he jumps up, hands awkwardly covering his crotch as he hurries to the bathroom.

You slump back down against the couch, dragging a hand over your face. You slow as you reach your mouth, lips tingling as you press on the soft flesh. You shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have let Jimin touch you either. But it's too late to change any of it. And the matter of the fact is that you wanted it – them. It's exhausting having to war with yourself over every single decision you make, especially when you know that your control over them is very limited. You're only trying to make the best out of your situation, to keep everyone you love safe. Perhaps losing yourself in the process isn't the worst sacrifice.

You reach out for the gummies Jungkook left with a shake of your head, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth. A sour-y-sweet filling is released as you bite into it, coating your tongue as you mindlessly chew on the candy. You swear you have tasted that slight strawberry flavour somewhere else, somewhere more recently. It's not until the gummy is gone and you swipe your tongue over your lips to catch the last of the sticky filling that it hits you.

Of course.

You throw your head back with a groan, muttering a curse under your breath.

It tastes like Jungkook.

The air in the common room feels suffocating. It's only a few days after your talk, and kiss, with Jungkook that you find yourself here; sitting on the couch in the middle of Seokjin and Taehyung, the rest spread out in a janky circle around the coffee table. Your gaze finds Jimin's as he steps forward, his expression carefully blank as he places your phone down in front of you. Your fingers twitch in your lap, itching to grasp onto the freedom that is now so close, yet so far away.

Seokjin seems to mistake the motion for nerves as he gently takes one of your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "It's going to be okay," He murmurs, mindful of the tense atmosphere.

They're all here to oversee your call to Heejun, to make sure you don't attempt to drop any hints of what's really going on. It's obvious that they don't like Jimin's idea, that they're scared of something going wrong, but it's the best option you have. Heejun will never stop looking for you unless you give him a reason to do so. This is easier for all of you and less messy. The boys will finally get rid of the one person that's trying to ruin their plans and you won't have to live with your friend's murder on your conscience. It's a fucked up, terrible, win-win.

"Whenever you're ready," Namjoon nods.

You reach out for your phone with a trembling hand, picking it up. It feels almost foreign to hold a phone after so long, your fingers clumsy as you type in your password. You balance it on your knee, your other hand still occupied by Seokjin. His grip is tight, tense, like he's hoping it'll prevent you from doing something stupid.

You brush your finger across the screen, aiming for the phone but the slight shake to it makes you accidentally touch your texts instead. Your stomach drops as you quickly scan down the list of unanswered messages; Heejun and Jaemin have sent you the most, but your friends at work are a close second. You can see that the last text in the group chat with your parents is from you – the message only a few days old. You're certain Namjoon is the one behind it.

You swallow thickly, heart aching, as you swipe out of the app. You miss your parents and your friends something terribly, but all of this is for them. You're the only one that can keep them safe.

You quickly switch over to your calls, thumb hovering over Heejun's name and the hundreds of missed calls next to it. Jaemin has placed nearly as many, as if Heejun figured you might pick up his boyfriend's calls instead of his. It's such a Heejun thing to do that it makes your chest tighten.

"Go on, angel," Seokjin says, squeezing your hand.

You suck in a deep breath as you tap his contact, quickly putting the call on speakerphone. Part of you hopes he won't pick up, that perhaps it'll spare your heart some pain if you don't hear his, but the much bigger part of you prays that he will. You need to hear that he's okay.

As the loud rings echo in the quiet cabin, your hands begin to clam up, your heart thumping harshly against your chest. It rings once, twice–

Heejun picks up, sounding breathless as he says, "Y/n?"

The sound of his voice wraps you in a chokehold. The glass walls you've built around yourself in an attempt to pretend that everything is fine come tumbling down in an instant, shattering into the silence.

"It's me," You rasp.

"Y/n, gods! What happened? Are you okay? Where are you, we've been worried sick that–" Heejun rambles quickly and the poor service you have out here in the woods struggles to pick up on all of his questions.

You glance up as you notice Jimin shifting on his feet, his previously blank expression growing more and more annoyed with every question Heejun fires off. Not good.

"Heejun," You cut him off, barely more than a whisper, but your best friend goes quiet immediately, "I'm okay."

You hear Heejun let out a rough sigh. He sounds pained as he says, "I don't believe you."

Taehyung's hands curl into fists, vexed that Heejun isn't accepting your story as easily as they had hoped for.

"Trust me," You plead, eyes flickering between Jimin and Taehyung's evident annoyance.

Please trust me, please, please, please.

"How?" Heejun huffs, "You've been gone for months – months! – without a word! The last thing you told me was that your stalker was after you and then you're suddenly gone! Disappeared off the face of the earth. Y/n, please, what's going on?"

"I–" You falter, the explanation you had come up with only hours before stuck in the back of your throat. You don't want to lie. You want Heejun to know – to know that you're not okay, that you don't want to be here, but you can't. You can't and you think lying might tear your heart apart.

There's an ominous silence on the other side of the phone, the line so quiet you're worried he might have ended the call. Heejun's voice is hard, seething, as he finally asks, "Is he there?"

Jungkook straightens up in his chair, doe eyes wide with panic. Seokjin's grip on your hand grows so tight you think he might be cutting your circulation off, the tips of your fingers taking on an ashy tint. Yoongi and Namjoon look like they're two seconds away from jumping over the table to take your phone back, their bodies taut with tension as they stare you down.

"No," You rush out, clutching your phone as hard as you can. "Heejun, I–I chose to run away." The lie feels like it's flaying your throat open as you force it out.

"Y/n, please–"

"Listen to me," You say, the desperation in your voice catching Heejun's attention, "I ran away because I didn't want you or Jaemin or anyone else to get hurt. This was the best thing I could do. It was the only thing I could do."

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing hard. You know this is the only thing Heejun will believe. There's no way in hell he would ever accept you just growing bored of him or losing interest in your friendship – the only thing that would ever convince him is self-sacrifice. Gods knows you've both done your fair share of that over the years.

Heejun pauses. "But why take so long to reach out to me?"

"I couldn't. Things had to settle down first. I'm so sorry, I wanted to, but–" You cut yourself off, "I'm sorry."

"I don't care about all of that, I just care about you, Y/n. Are you safe?"

Are you?

The cabin is so silent you could hear a pin drop. You seek comfort in the darkness behind your closed lids, biting down on the inside of your cheek so hard you know that it hurts the others. The truth is this; the situation you're in is not safe, but you also know that the boys would never intentionally hurt you. Your bond is too strong to ever allow that to happen. In some ways you are safe, in others, you are not.

You can settle for a half-truth then, just like those Ms. Eun is so good at inventing.

You open your eyes slowly, skin crawling as you stare down at the floor and say, "Yes. I'm safe right now."

".. Okay," Heejun murmurs. You can't quite tell if he believes you or not.

The boys let out a collective sigh of relief, some of the tension draining out of their bodies. You notice Jimin giving you a sign to hurry up out of the corner of your eye, your pulse kicking up speed as you realize your time with Heejun has come to an end.

"I have to go," You choke.

Heejun tries to protest, but you cut him off. The longer the conversation goes on, the higher the risk of him figuring out that something is wrong.

"I'm sorry. I'll call you again later, okay? I promise. Just.. take good care of yourself and Jaemin. I'll come find you when it's time. I miss you," Your voice wavers as your vision grows cloudy, tears blurring your sight.

You don't want to let him go, you don't want this to be the last time you ever hear his voice. You miss him and you're scared. Scared that things will never go back to what they were.

"Miss you too. Please be safe, Y/n. Protect yourself, not us, okay?" Heejun sounds defeated, as sad and broken, as you feel.

I can't promise you that.

"Bye, Heejun," You whisper instead, a half-sob. You hear your own name being murmured back at you as you touch the red button to end the call, the line going dead.

"Was it enough?" You sound feeble even to your own ears.

"I think so. We'll find out soon. As long as your friends don't show up at the station anymore, we should be fine," Jimin says. His mouth is downturned, upset, like he doesn't like seeing you cry.

You can only nod in return, not trusting your voice.

Hoseok steps closer, gently taking the phone out of your trembling hand. He hands it off to Namjoon before he settles his fingers on the top of your head, stroking your hair. He hushes you as the first tear escapes you, voice tender and proud as he says, "You did well, sunshine."

You feel sick. You want to scream and claw at the hands touching you, you want to pull your own treacherous heart from your chest and stomp on it until it stops beating for them and it's yours again. The emotions bubbling up under your skin feel like burning hellfire, scorching your insides. You hate this. You don't want this and yet–

The fire quells as more hands reach out to touch you, to comfort you.

Taehyung pulls you into his lap, rocking you gently as you begin to sob. You should be running away, but instead, you find yourself curling closer to his chest, seeking his warmth. He presses fluttering kisses to your hair, murmuring about how good you are, how perfect, how well they're going to take care of you.

And for the first time since you woke up trapped in the cabin, you actually want to believe him.

Anything to make your reality hurt a little less.

a/n: happy new year!! lovesick is finally back after a few intense months of exams and other happenings. this chapter shed some more light on jungkook's backstory and he even got the first kiss from the mc! the conversation with heejun was the final nail in the coffin so to speak for the mc, so we'll see her being more open to accepting the boys' affection from here on out. the poor girl is starting to get worn down :( the next chapter will be more taegi-focused and the mc will finally learn more about their soulbond!

please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖

(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere hoseok #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #yandere yoongi #yandere namjoon

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 days

Text

The road leading up to the castle is long. (i.e. It has to be plowed in winter.)

Welcome to Bedford Castle in Bedford, WY. (That's what the desc. calls it, but a plaque says 'Heiner Castle.') It's a fairly new castle, built in 1992, but it's pretty impressive inside, for certain reasons, not all of them great. It has 5bds, 7ba and they're asking $14M. Well, it's on 40 acres of land, too.

It's built among the pine trees and mountains of Wyoming in the background. It looks a little like an Austrian castle. Can you imagine yourself running, dressed in a pinafore, singing "The hills are alive with the sound of music?"

In the summer, it looks like the Emerald City. We're off to see the wizard.

The grand entrance stairs. There's supposed to be an elevator somewhere.

In many ways it looks like a castle, with stone arches, but I like a more medieval look, with dark wood.

I wonder if the big lion would convey.

Check out the great hall/living room. It's kind of rustic, but with stone castle pillars.

Large dated kitchen. It looks like a house kitchen, not particularly castle-ish.

The dining room has a big fireplace with a modern insert. Is it me, or is that table ridiculously high?

Now this is a castle. Big white stone fireplace and columns. Very nice. Love the blue chandy.

Looking up at the mezzanine.

Here's the elevator. I can't tell where it's located, though.

Winding castle stairs.

What is that thing? It looks like a trapeze. Do you have to grab onto it and hoist yourself up?

Assuming that you got up here, this must be the primary bedroom.

I'm gonna say that this treacherous ladder, that looks like it has rollers for steps, goes up to the kids bedroom.

They have a bunker style room.

Very large bath. Dated. When you build something like this, you gotta think timeless. Oak cabinets w/carved fronts was a trend that quickly went out of style.

Here's another bedroom. I like the fireplace mantle with the thick columns.

And, this is one of the other smaller baths. Actually, I thought that was the elevator when I first saw it.

Metal stairs to the tower. This is super cool.

40 acres in Wyoming would be beautifully green in the summer.

But, you gotta be into snow, too.

https://www.trulia.com/home/2150-robinson-ln-bedford-wy-83112-299621690

#castle #houses #house tours #home tour

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justfangirlstuffs · 3 months

Text

Chase

You're bored and looking for some entertainment, and Sun is more than willing to entertain you.

Vampire Sun x Thrall Y/N

CW: suggestive

Wordcount: 2530

You were bored. Oh, so very bored and restless. Moon was out on an errand. So it was just you, Sun, and DJ and the other spirits haunting the place. Speaking of Sun, you found him lounging in one of the sitting room chairs by the fireplace doing some kind of embroidery project. As soon as you entered the room, his eyes met yours and a wide grin stretched his face.

“Hello, sweet thing. What brings you here?”

You didn't answer right away, instead going over and leaning on the back of the chair he was sitting in. “I'm bored,” you said at length.

“Ah, I see. And you've come to me looking for entertainment, is that it?” He didn't sound bothered, setting aside his project and patting a hand on his lap, quietly inviting you to have a seat.

You smiled, stepping around and slipping into his lap, Sun smoothly pulling you close. “So how should I entertain my darling, hm? We could always go to the kitchen and I could whip up a little something. Maybe brunch with hot chocolate?”

“Are you sure you should be making that?” you asked playfully. “Maybe we should wait until Moon gets back.”

Sun reached down, casually pinching your lower jaw between his long fingers as he stared down at you with a playful smile. “Are you looking to be punished? I can't imagine why else you would antagonize me so.”

You held back a snicker. Apparently, Sun was super sensitive about his cooking skills. “It's fine, I'm not that hungry anyway.” In the background the logs in the fireplace crackled softly and the faint smell of wood smoke teased your nostrils.

“That's makes one of us, then,” he remarked, leaning down to nuzzle your neck. His breath was warm and soft, his caress was calming yet electrifying. You felt his sharp teeth lightly grazing at your neck, but... It wasn't even a bite. It was a tease. He chuckled and buried his face in the curve of your neck.

His lips lightly caressed you, his voice whispering in your ear, "Mine." He pressed a soft kiss at your neck, then another. Your pulse quickened and you were so distracted by just this. His scent was addictive, his words pure honey in your ears. And he looked so goddamn fine.

"Oh, is someone hungry?" you asked playfully, feeling his mouth teasing along your neck. Like he wanted something more. You rubbed your hands up and down his chest.

"I'm not only hungry." He looked up at you. His eyes darkened but the fire light still made them glow. He tilted his head and you felt his teeth again. "I crave you, my Star," he purred in your ear. His fingers were at your waist and he moved them up, up, up, under your clothes. His touch was electric. He was as bold and teasing as you wanted him to be.

Your eyes widened, face going red as his fingers snuck under your shirt. You quickly grab his hands, stopping him. "W-wait! I... um... this is just really fast."

His grin became wider as he felt your grip on his fingers. "Too fast?" He said with a playful smirk as his eyes twinkled. "I suppose we do have the whole day ahead of us. I'm not complaining though."

You rolled your eyes but you were smiling. "You are absolutely incorrigible." All the same, you were grateful he had the courtesy to respect your boundaries and stop when you asked.

Sun chuckled. "Well, to be fair... I'm not entirely incorrigible. My hands are right here." He teased, and his fingers went up, just under the fabric of your clothes, touching your skin but going no further.

He was trying to make the touch as teasing as possibly. His fingertips were barely grazing your body, making his intentions clear.

"Your skin is so smooth." His voice purred again, like soft velvet. "It's almost insidious how... Desirable you are."

Your face burned with both embarrassment and appreciation at his words. Your heart was beating way too fast. You almost felt light headed. Okay, well if it was games Sun wanted to play, then you'd play one of your own. You leaned forward, giving him a surprise smooch. Then, in his moment of being stunned, you scrambled out of his lap and made a run for it.

When you gave him a sudden kiss, he froze. Time seemed to slow down and his mind blanked in a good way, his eyes sparkling once again when you jumped out of his lap and ran.

You heard his laugh behind your back. "Really, little star?" He taunted you. "If you think I'm letting you go, then you're sadly mistaken. But by all means..." His voice dipped, making your heart quiver with his next words. “Run as fast as you can.”

And run you did, through twisting halls and up and down staircases of the maze-like manor. You ran so fast everything was a blur and your body was quick to burn itself out. You paused for breath, looking for a place to hide and recharge. You ducked into what appeared to be a guest room. There weren't a whole lot of places in the room you could hide. Making a split second decision, you ducked into the closet and quietly shut yourself into the dark enclose space. You covered your mouth to stifle your breathing.

Sun walked near the bedroom and stepped in, his heels clacking against the hard floor. A small smile was plastered on his face and he moved his head slowly, trying to make out any sound you might've made.

"I know you're in here, my little sweet. You're not the only one good at playing games." His voice was soft but it clearly teasing you. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he called playfully.

You kept your hands clamped over your mouth, breathing quietly through your nose while your heart thudded loudly against your rib cage. You could hear him out there. HUNTING for you.

"I can hear your heartbeat, little Star," Sun murmured, his voice and footsteps growing closer as he wandered the room. "I can hear your breath. So quiet. So fast." His tone was playful, but you could hear a drop of excitement in it. It was easy to tell he was having the time of his life with this game the two of you were playing.

Your eyes widened. Of course, he could hear your heartbeat. If that was the case, then he already knew exactly where you were. He was just toying with you. You crept further back into the closet, searching of a dark nook to hide away in but there was none to be found.

"There you are," Sun's voice lilted. You could almost imagine him grinning, but in his usual charming way. There was no escape. You heard his fingers gripped the door of the closet. "There is no use in hiding, sweet thing." His voice dripped with a smirk. He was enjoying the chase, no doubt, but he obviously wanted you too. "I'm getting in there, sooner or later. You won't escape this hunt."

Even though you know there is little use in it, you tried to hold the door closed. If only to prolong the inevitable. You could hear the door bend under Sun's force, his grip not too strong, yet not too weak, just strong enough so the door still stood. His fingers were moving up and down it, trying to find any weak spots.

"Good, good," he whispered, his voice was slightly lower but he was still amused. The sound of it was oddly addictive, almost hypnotizing. "Resist. Don't give up the fight."

A full body shiver ran through you at his words. It was a weird sort of thrill mixed with vindication and pleasure at his praise. He liked what you were doing. He liked it when you resisted. It just made the chase more fun for him. You used all your weight to hold the door shut, fighting and resisting, just like he wanted. Just like you wanted.

"That's it. Keep resisting, my Starlight. Make me break the door to get you." His voice purred darkly, sending tingling goosebumps racing up and down your spine. You could hear the sound of wood splintering under steel nails. It was clear Sun was determined to get rid of any obstacle that would deny him your embrace.

He was like a tiger. You were like a gazelle. And the whole game was a play of cat and a mouse. He was amused and the thrill of you holding off against him made him crave you more, want you more. Wanted you in his arms where you belonged.

Would he really break the door down? Honestly, you wouldn't put hardly anything past him at this point. You held out for as long as you could, but just when you felt the door about to give you jumped back. A cacophony of breaking wood and squealing metal ensued as Sun tore the closet door clean off its hinges, sending splinters scattering to the floor.

His footsteps creaked on wood and a gentle chuckle left his lips as he tossed the door aside and stepped into the small space.

Your breath caught in your throat as your back was pressed against the closet wall as he cornered you. There was nowhere left to run as he pinned you against the wall. His gleaming eyes flickered and his fingers gripped your hips.

"Mine," he growled softly, his claws lightly brushing your skin, tickling you, yet they didn't hurt. "Mine."

He didn't even give you time to say anything, Sun kissed you passionately once again. His tongue played against yours, your bodies touching, him pressing you against the wall. Goosebumps raised on you skin where his claws brushed, and you moaned as his tongue brushed yours.

You heard his laugh once more as he saw your goosebumps, his gaze tracing over your body, his eyes shining with joy. He pulled away, holding you by your cheeks and gazing directly in your eyes. His fangs were glistening like diamonds.

"You were thinking you were going to escape me?" He chuckled. "How precious of you, my darling." He was amused, his eyes still holding a predatory gleam, yet he still managed to make you feel safe. So, so safe.

"No," you admitted. "I didn't think I could escape you. I just... wanted you to chase me. It was... fun." It felt weird admitting all of this, like you were confessing to some sort of scandalous sin. But you didn't feel he would judge you for it.

Sun leaned his head towards your and whispered, "I knew it." His eyes were sparkling with joy. "It was fun, wasn't it?" His voice was quiet but the feeling of desire was very palpable. "Catch and keep. And you, my precious little Star, are caught." His hands held you tight and he looked so happy, leaning down to once more gently press his lips to yours.

You hummed into his kiss, feeling safe and comfortable. Is this what people often refer to as aftercare? You rather liked it. "It would seem so," you murmured in agreement, hooking your arms around his neck. "So then... you don't mind if I occasionally put up a bit of a fight? Just to keep things interesting?"

He laughed, his lips brushing against your forehead tenderly. "Oh no, not at all." Sun smiled. "In fact... I'd say that the hunt is the most enjoyable. The chase, the play for power. The game. I love the game, I could play it for hours." He chuckled and kissed your neck, his teeth slightly grazing your skin once again, causing you to shiver with delight. "You're my little Star. You're always in my reach and afraid to say..." Sun whispered, his teeth lightly biting you but not piercing skin. "There's no escape for you."

Good thing you had absolutely no desire or need for escape then. "Well, then let me give just a little bit of warning," you said before moving your head and biting his shoulder playfully. "This little star bites back."

Your bite was gentle but he let out a little moan, the muscles under your teeth twitching. "Oh, a feisty one, I see." Sun snickered. "A hunt with fire and brimstone. Fascinating. I must say, as a thrall you're a bit of a handful..." He hummed, stroking his long, nimble fingers along your jaw. "And I like this."

"I can be sweet too," you told him. "I'll admit. All of this is very fast. Faster than I'm used to. It feels like... hmm... like I've been crawling for a long time and now suddenly I'm running. So, do you think you can have the patience to let me stop and catch my breath once in a while?"

In all honesty, Sun was very tempted to just throw you on the bed and do some more enjoyable things with you, but... he could be gentle. He liked what you were playing, he liked the chase.

"We'll take it slow." He murmured and leaned closer so his face was almost touching yours. There was also a very faint glimmer in his eyes, as if he was expecting just one more kiss - hoping even. "Slow and steady."

"Thank you," you told him, smiling. Taking gentle hold of his face, you leaned forward and kissed him, knowing he wanted it as much as you did. You leaned against him, suddenly feeling completely tuckered out. "I think I need a nap."

"It would seem you pushed yourself just a little too hard," Sun chuckled, leaning his chin on your head. He held you in his arms, one hand stroking your hair gently. "You can sleep as much as you want, as long as it's in my arms," he whispered, his eyes glittering with affection and his gaze full of love.

His claws lightly brushed your skin, his eyes scanning your face, studying it like it was something precious. Because, as he said, you were. You were his.

You hummed and leaned against him, closing your eyes and letting loose a yawn. "That sounds nice. "

"I've been told that I'm also a good pillow." Sun chuckled, his voice calm and steady. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, laying down with you resting on top of him. "You can sleep here, sweet thing. I won't let anything happen to you,” he promised, kissing your forehead. “Sleep, rest, feel safe. You deserve all of it, my Star."

"Thank you, Sun," you murmured, curling up on top of him.

He held you closely, his arms hugging you tightly. His fingers were playing with your hair as his eyes were filled with affection. You suddenly realized how exhausted you were. His body felt warm and comforting, perfect to catch some Zs after all of the running and hiding.

"Sweet dreams, my precious little star," he whispered, once again wishing you pleasant rest. "Rest well."

And rest well you did.

#eyem #enthralling you enthralling me #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #sun x reader #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #moon x reader #vampire au #justfangirlwritings

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raginglesbian2006 · 1 month

Note

The most intimate thing I can think of doing with Alastor is both of us sitting on a couch each with our own book reading soft jazz music playing in the background and a fire going in the fireplace.

Yet at the same time I picture that anyone who walks into the room and sees that just walks back out do to confusion. Like they are questioning if that room was even in hell with how peaceful it is in there. If it was just Alastor completely fine and normal nothing weird but add his s/o it suddenly becomes a car crash thing "it's so boring yet I can't look away"

I can totally see that!

I also think that if someone disrupts the peace, Alastor would snap

Like, leave this man and his significant other alone, please!

I imagine it going somewhat like this-

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

*Just the two of you, chilling in the common area in the lobby of the hotel, reading and listening to jazz*

Angel Dust: *calling out to you* hey uhh, I need yer help with somethin'-

Alastor: *turns his head around to look at him with a sickening crack and a terrifying smile as the radio static grows uncontrollably*

Angel Dust: *quietly speedwalks out of the vicinity*

You: *playfully glaring at Alastor* How many times have I told you not to scare my friends away?

Alastor: *shrugs* Not my fault, they're annoying, my dear

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Oooh also, if you happen to fall asleep whilst you're chilling with Alastor, it is a fact that he's picking you up, bridal style and transporting you to your room so that you can have a nice slumber in the comfort of your own bed.

Yes he is a manipulative overlord who was also a serial killer and a cannibal when he was alive, but he is a gentleman first and foremost.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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therainningtown · 6 months

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Little Imagine to come back to since I been away for so long.

Just imagine: You’re absolutely drained, your brain feels so full yet so empty. And it feels like everything is so overwhelming and stimulating. You feel scared and anxious about anything, noises, people…

It’s just too much.

Then, at the end of day, Lucifer calls you into his bedroom for no reason at all.

And it seems he’s giving off the impression of it being a rather harsh scolding by the other brothers nervous glances towards you.

But, you know better.

It’s just a cover up by Lucifer.

To keep his pride is what you think.

But honestly, he just wants it to be a chance at alone time with you.

Just something only between you two.

Because if the brothers really knew what he did, how he guided you into a soft, comforting hug. With a possible kiss to your head as his hand gently rubbed your back. Whispering soft, sweet nothings in your ears.

How he gently held you with his arms and slickly wings as you both relaxed in his large, plush bed. With a vinyl going soft in the background as the fireplace crackled throughout the night.

They would definitely be upset.

#obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me fluff #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer fluff #lucifer fluff #just a thought

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tangledupinyellow · 7 months

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Unexpected Phone Calls | Javier Peña X F!Reader

authors note: A quick little Javier drabble that I had in my drafts for a bit!

summary: Feeling a little lonely, you decide to give Javier a call while he’s caught up at work.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, phone sex, female and male masturbation, dirty talk, some POV switching

word count: 1.7k

You were bored, to put it simply. You had spent what felt like hours scrolling through television channels, trying to find something that would occupy your mind while waiting for Javier to return home from the office. Eventually, you’ve settled on a movie you’ve seen nearly a thousand times before to pass the time. But as the film went on, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock.

Time was going by incredibly slow that you felt like you were going to lose your mind. Every minute felt like an hour. Usually, you manage to be more patient. But tonight, there was more of a yearning to have Javier with you. Or, more specifically, inside you if you were being honest.

You had spent all day at work fantasizing about being with Javier tonight. Fantasizing about what he would do to you underneath the bed sheets. Before Javier, you never felt needy towards anybody. You’ve never actually had sex just for the pleasure of it before. But that’s because nobody has ever made you feel just as good as Javier does. He knew exactly where and how to pleasure you, and the more time you spent with him, the more you craved his touch. The more you craved him. And the more you craved him, the more painful it was to wait around for him.

Leaning back against the couch with an exaggerated sigh, you look over at the clock once again to see that five minutes haven’t even gone by since the last time you checked. You groaned and leaned your head back on the throw pillows, staring up at the ceiling while the movie you had put on played faintly in the background. You weren’t even watching it anymore at this point. All you could think about was Javi and how good it would be if he could just come home already. You didn’t know how much patience you had left in you.

With a roll of your eyes, you lean over on the couch, now lying on your stomach, to reach the telephone on the sofa table. You picked it up and rested it between your ear and your shoulder before going over your voicemails, deciding it would give you something to do while waiting for your boyfriend to return.

As you went through countless messages from spam calls and family members that you weren’t sure were worth recalling, one voicemail caught your ear when you heard Javier’s voice on the other line.

“Hi cariño, just wanted to give you a quick call and let you know that I’ll be home later tonight. Not too sure when, but I wanted to call and wish you sweet dreams. See you in the morning.”

His voice rang through the phone, and you sighed heavily. He wasn’t expecting you to stay up late for him to arrive home, but that’s exactly what you were planning on doing. There was no way that you would be able to sleep, especially being this worked up. And so, you did what you had to do and gave his work phone a little call.

You rested back on the couch with a smirk as you listened to the phone ring a couple of times, each ring being agony to you. At this point, just hearing his voice would be enough.

By the final ring, your hand is already reaching your needy clit, and your panties have been pushed to the side.

“Javier Peña, DEA.” His tired voice introduces himself professionally as he grudgingly accepts the phone call.

“Javier Peña, so professional ..” You teased, your fingers now finding their way to your clit, a quiet gasp escaping your lips at the contact.

You could hear him groan on the other end of the line, and you could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose while leaning back in his ear, “It’s late. I thought that you would be fast asleep by now.”

You glanced over at the clock that hung above the fireplace, “And I thought you would be home from work now..” You countered back, your fingers caressing your folds with ease, considering how wet you were, thinking of Javier’s fingers pleasuring you instead of your own.

“You know I would love to be home with you instead of being stuck here, but I’ll be sure I get home as soon as I can. Thought I left a voicemail?”

“You did,” You said, confirming that you did, in fact, receive his voicemail, “But I wanted to hear your voice.” You let a purposeful moan leave your lips as you played with yourself, wanting him to know just how needy you were for him.

Javier immediately sat up in his chair when he heard the unmistakable moan come from the other line, “Cariño,” he warned with a low voice, keeping his voice down as he looked around a little, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” You questioned innocently, your fingers keeping a slow and steady pace on your clit, “Just waiting for you to get home.” You weren’t lying to him, but the reason you wanted him to come home was for more than just some company.

“Tell me what you’re doing to yourself.” He repeated, his voice more firm than it had been previously.

“Why don’t you come home and find out for yourself?” You smirked, giving him his answer without directly saying it, “I’ve been thinking about you all day, Javi. Been thinking about those fingers and how good you could make me feel with them.” You murmured out. The soft pads of your fingers were nothing compared to his rough ones, but yours would have to do the job for now.

“Jesus Christ,” Javier grumbled and ran his hand over his thigh, his thumb just missing the bulge that was growing in his jeans, “You can’t just call me like this when you know I’m working.” He lectured you, trying his best to keep his voice calm even if his heart was beating in his chest. The thought of you sitting on the couch of your shared living room, touching yourself, and practically begging for him was driving him insane.

“You have no idea how much I need you right now, Javier.” You moaned quietly, your fingers picking up their pace.

Javier slowly shook his head as he listened to you, now palming the undeniable bulge in his jeans. He thought to himself briefly before setting the phone down on his desk.

You furrowed your eyebrows together slightly, your fingers slowing down while you tried to figure out what was going on through the other line. However, you were able to put the pieces of the puzzle together rather quickly when you heard the lock of the door.

“Shouldn’t be doing this when I’m working.” Javier mumbled while picking up the phone, resting it between his ear and shoulder while leaning back against his chair.

“Just couldn’t help myself..” You whispered quietly through the phone.

You could hear him unbuckle his belt and zip down his jeans, making a smirk appear on your face.

“You enjoy this?” He grunted through the phone, his hand now wrapped around his cock, “Distracting me when you know I’m supposed to be working?”

“I just need you, Javier. Wish your fingers were inside of me instead.” You groaned, causing him to hiss while he slowly began pumping his cock.

“That needy for me huh?” His voice was almost condescending, but that made you even wetter for him.

You nodded your head quickly, even though you knew that he couldn’t see you, and you were forced to use your words, “Always needy for you, Javi.”

“Naughty girl..” He spit on his hand before working his cock again, closing his eyes so he could picture you sucking and slobbering on his dick instead, “Gonna fuck you so damn hard when I get home.”

You moaned a little louder at his words, “Need your cock, baby.” You whimpered as your fingers moved even faster, paying attention to every word he said to help get yourself off.

“Keep touching yourself, baby. Make yourself feel good while you wait for me to come home so I can fuck you properly.” He encouraged, pumping his hard cock with his fist, already leaking with precum.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for him. You cursed the fact that he had to stay late at work when you needed him so desperately. All you wanted was his cock deep inside of you.

You rubbed your clit a little bit faster, purposefully moaning into the phone so Javier could hear you pleasuring yourself loud and clear. The sounds of your moans and whimpers made his hand work faster around his cock.

“Goddamn baby,” He cursed with a grunt, leaning back in his seat with his neck hanging back, veins protruding out of his neck, “Gonna make me come like this, you naughty little thing.” An almost vulnerable moan escaped his throat as he worked at his orgasm.

The little moans that he made were almost enough to make you cum on your fingers, making you work faster and faster at your clit, “I’m so close, Javi.” You told him, your two fingers never slowing their pace.

He grinned at your admission before licking his lower lip, “Let yourself go for me. Get yourself all nice and ready for me before I get home.” He encouraged with a heavy breath. You could hear the sounds of him jacking off on the other line.

At his words, you were unable to keep it in longer. Being all his was all you wanted and needed to finish. With a loud moan of his name, you were finishing all over your fingers, whimpers and soft moans leaving your mouth.

“Fuck, that’s right, baby. Gonna have you screaming that name when I get home.” He hummed out, “Gonna make you. All. Mine.” He grunted, quickly grabbing a tissue from his desk to catch his cum.

Laying back on the couch, you slowly remove your hand from your cunt and take a moment to catch your breath. Javier seems to be doing the same back at his office, for all you can hear on the other line is the sound of his heavy breathing.

“Can’t have you calling me at work like this..” Javier mumbled, going back to his previous lecture. But you couldn’t help but smirk.

“Sounds like you had a good time.” You teased. You could practically hear his eye roll on the other line.

“Oh, cariño..” He cooed with a shake of his head, “I’m absolutely going to destroy that pussy when I get home from work. And you can count on that.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #18+#female reader #writing #fiction #javier pena smut

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0fantasma0 · 2 months

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Petals to Thorns

{Chapter One}

General Fic Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, stalking, manipulation, possessive behavior, canon typical violence.

Chapter Two:

The sun was up, but you saw no reason to move from your spot at the kitchen table. A beautiful orange glow streams through the white curtains of your dining room. The soft light gleams against the tiny metal-tipped tool you use to whittle the chunk of alder wood in your palm.

This was your routine.

Sleeping well into the early evening to spend your nights at the kitchen table carving. It keeps your mind focused and your hands busy. You’d never thought your hands being unoccupied would be a bad thing until you started picking your lips raw. A nasty habit you haven't been able to kick since your games.

The other positive of sleeping through your days was that you missed all the people who came to your door. It had been a little under a month since you returned, and people were still dropping by. Most came to leave flowers or bottles of booze; some even left a few cords of wood. Thoughtful, but it would be several more months before you could put your new fireplace to use.

Nobody ever knocked, but just knowing they were on the other side of the door was enough to make you want to disintegrate. You couldn’t imagine trying to greet any of them. The walk from the train station to your new home in Victor's Village proved to be challenging enough.

Seeing the faces of your fellow District 7 inhabitants was somehow worse than being goaded by Capitol cretins.

Some cheered, some cried, and some didn’t say anything at all.

They were disgusted by you.

You slam the tool on the mahogany table below. Rubbing your eyes with your thumb and pointer finger, you were in desperate need of background noise. Your old radio busted a week ago, and you hadn’t worked up the courage to buy a new one.

You really should go to the market.

It was only a half mile from the Village, and walking might be pleasant. You could perhaps trade some of your woodwork for goods like you always have. Though, you didn’t need to barter anymore. The Capitol’s generous compensation for your efforts ensured that you never had to worry about the usual obstacles of District life again.

Maybe tomorrow.

Bracing yourself on the table as you stand from your chair. You drop your chin to your chest and stretch your achy limbs briefly before starting the long trek to the bathroom. This house was much bigger compared to the one-room shack you once called home. You weren’t sure who, but somebody had taken the liberty of moving all your belongings into your new home in the Village. They had even organized your clothes in the closet and hung your family pictures on the walls.

It had to have been Flora.

You fail to keep her son alive, and yet she still takes the time to make your transition easier. The mother of three was well known for her compassion and willingness to help others—traits very few people still possess.

What you did to still deserve her kindness, you were unsure.

Finally arriving at your destination, you nearly melt at the sight of the porcelain tub. Twisting the silver handle, you let the warm liquid slide down your hand before reaching its final destination.

A bath and then bed.

You had only just managed to fall into a dreamless sleep when the sound you had been dreading hearing echoed up the hall.

A knock.

Remaining still in your bed, perhaps whoever it was would think you weren’t home and go away.

Another knock.

Throwing the covers back, you grab the pair of trousers you left to rot on the floor. You tuck your white long-sleeve shirt into the waistband while searching for a belt or suspenders to hold your pants in place. Most of your pants and shirts once belonged to your father, and to say they were ill-fitting would be an understatement. Finally finding a pair of suspenders, you clip them on and shrug them over your shoulders as you walk down the stairs to your front door.

Hovering for a moment over the door knob, you take a deep breath. It was probably just a child or maybe even somebody you went to school with. You didn’t have a lot of friends per se, but you were friendly with almost everyone.

So why were you scared?

Turning the lock and twisting the handle, your eyes squint as the hot summer sun blinds you momentarily. Your vision slowly brings the figure in front of you into focus before a familiar, icey voice clues you into who your visitor is before you can finish fitting the pieces of their face together.

“Good morning.”

Coriolanus Snow.

He is as well put together as the last time you saw him. His hair combed back, and a perfectly tailored black vest hugged his torso and made the white of his dress shirt shine against the rest of his dark ensemble. Did he know it was a million degrees outside?

“Good morning,” You manage to choke out. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

He smiles kindly, like you would greeting an old friend.

“That’s quite alright. May I come in?”

No, you can’t come in.

“Of course.” You move to the side and open the door a little wider.

Why was he here? Gamemakers never usually leave the safety of the Capitol. There was more hate for Gamemakers than for Peacekeepers; plenty of disgruntled family members of fallen tributes would gladly hang if it meant there was one less Gamemaker in this world.

He’s here to arrest you.

Coriolanus takes his time surveying the state of your home, stopping at a picture of your mother laughing as you dangle from the maple tree that once grew outside your childhood home.

He’s alone. You could take him.

“Can I get you something to drink? I don’t have much right now, but I do have coffee.” You ask as you move towards your kitchen, hoping to create a little distance between you.

“A glass of water if you could.” He calls back, seemingly still looking at the picture on the wall. It takes a few tries to find the cabinet with your cups in it; still unfamiliar with the layout. Bringing the glass over the sink, you stare out the window as it fills with water.

If he were here to arrest you, you would have already been dragged through the mud and on your way to a cell or the hanging tree by now. Any chance they could take to make a spectacle of a rebel’s torture or death, they would.

Is that what you are now? A rebel?

You didn’t feel like one, but the secret you harbored was undoubtedly an act of rebellion.

“Did you make these?”

You jump at the sound of Coriolanus’ voice behind you. Looking down, you see the cup has been overflowing for some time and has soaked your shirt sleeve. Shutting the water off, you quickly grab the washcloth next to the sink and wipe off the outside of the cup.

Turning around, you see the Gamemaker has one of your sculptures in his hand. A chickadee. It looked so much smaller in his hand. Coriolanus seems to consider the wooden bird before moving on to another sculpture. A rabbit whose ears you were still working on defining.

“These are lovely,” He muses, carefully returning the rabbit to its place in the ecosystem you have amassed at your kitchen table. “Do you only carve animals?”

Why do you care?

“No, I uh,” You hold out your hand, inviting him to sit across from you, placing the cold glass of water in front of him as you take your place at the head of the table. “I can make tools and cutlery, too; I was commissioned to make a jewelry box a while back. That was a unique challenge.”

There is a moment where you almost forget you're talking to a Gamaker—the very same man who boasted about his involvement in creating your prison cell.

Especially when he’s looking at you like that.

His expression is much softer than it was when you first met him. The threatening air that you felt before is nowhere to be found, and he seems content to let you continue talking if you so choose. His blue eyes don’t leave yours as he lets the quiet hang for a moment longer before straightening his back.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced. But I’m here on behalf of The Capitol.”

You’re fucked.

Like the young man could sense your immediate unease, he continues calmly.

“There have been reports of increased rebel activity in District 7. Now, this isn’t unusual. We’ve found there is a spike in this sort of conduct following a particularly emotional game like yours.”

You remain silent.

“I’m here to investigate these claims and ask a favor of you.”

A favor? That’s brave.

“The Capitol sends Gamemakers to deal with rebels?” You can’t help but scoff.

Coriolanus seems to find it funny as well. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I studied military theory in university and served as a Peacekeeper in District 12. They send whoever they believe best represents and upholds Panem’s values.”

Silence fills the room once more.

You cross your arms in front of your chest and shift as far back in the chair as possible. You catch a slight twitch in the Gamemaker’s cheek when he notices the albeit small but important change in your posture.

“We’ve found that Victors tend to be the best at dissuading these acts,” He intertwines his fingers in front of him on the table. “I’m not asking you to make a speech. Just to be an example to the others in your District.”

“An example of what exactly?” The weight of your exhaustion is starting to wear you down.

“An example of compliance, order, loyalty. Show them the truth. That we are better and safer united as one.”

He wants you to be a mouthpiece.

To have you whisper Capitol rhetoric into their ears under the guise that it’s coming from one of their own. Easier to swallow that way, perhaps. But there was no way you’d be able to convince anyone that their children weren’t worth fighting for.

Not that you ever would, for anybody, at any cost.

“I would love to help with your rebel problem.” You mutter. “Unfortunately, I hold very little weight in the minds of the people in this District.”

The Gamemaker’s brows bunch together like he couldn’t tell if you were facetious. He nods slowly before you watch his eyes wander back to the chickadee. The first time his gaze has left yours, this entire conversation.

Coriolanus slowly unlaces his fingers in front of the bird, lingering like he wished to hold the tiny wooden creature once more. It seems to be a fleeting thought, though, as he quickly tangles his fingers back together

Had this been a different conversation and him a different man, you might have even offered to let him take it.

“I think you will find that to be quite the contrary.” Coriolanus abruptly pushes himself away from the table. You flinch before mimicking his actions and stand. “In any case, I will be available to you should you encounter anything troubling.”

He pushes in his chair, taking extra care not to knock the table. You feel dizzy from getting up so fast but try not to let the heaviness in your head become apparent to the Gamemaker.

The last thing you needed was Coriolanus Snow, knowing you were barely put together.

“I have to meet with Commander Ward, but there are other things I would like to speak with you about.”

Of course there is.

“You know where to find me.” You give a practiced, polite smile, which he returns. For a second, the blonde looks as though he has more to say. His lips part, and you find yourself holding your breath.

“Thank you for your time. I’ll see myself out.”

You wait until you hear the sound of the door opening and closing before you rush down the hall to lock it behind him. Steadying yourself on the wall, you gulp down some much-needed air. The late morning heat was starting to fill the house, but you felt cold and clammy. A symptom no doubt brought on by the Gamemaker.

Finding your way back to the kitchen, you stop in the door frame, your gaze settling on the untouched glass of water. Your chest burns with an emotion you can’t put a name to. It weighs heavy, and you feel the need to cry.

The promise of return made by Coriolanus only further fuels the flame growing beneath your sternum.

Next time you won’t open the fucking door.

Stomping over to the table, you snatch up the cup. Water spills over the edge as you raise your arm in the air. You aim at the empty hutch located behind the table and watch as it shatters into countless glistening pieces all over the floor.

It felt cathartic for a fraction of a second before your senses return as you realize the mess you’ve made.

A problem for later

On unsteady feet, you start for the stairs. White knuckling the railing as you climb your way up, perhaps your bed would grant you the relief you hoped you would find in the broken glass.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas #weee #gonna make a masterlist in da morning #hope you like #let me know your thoughts

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