#people never use the content warning things and they never tag it for filtering and they clog up every fucking tag

[cowardstiel]

people complain about the porn ban SO MUCH but u look at any tag, even the most G-rated innocuous shit like #nature and you can't go more than 6 posts without full (sexualised, not artistic, just straight-up pornography) tits and vag and arsehole and dick and balls like ENOUGH!! i actually think tumblr needs to do more to clear the site of porn lmao

#call me a prude idc im so sick of this shit like?? it makes the site unusable in public and also! i don't want to see that shit! #people never use the content warning things and they never tag it for filtering and they clog up every fucking tag #AND! my biggest hate! in trending the little post preview thumbnails include pornographic posts?? #lily complains about tumblr yet again #my post

[5ummit]

New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)

More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.

Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:

I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.

After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:

.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}

Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!

If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.

Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:

tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper

Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.

Some additional notes:

After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.

The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!

The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.

This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.

#I'm not letting my entire blog be penalized for a couple rare singular posts that may or may not even be 'mature' enough to warrant it #tumblr may force us to use community labels #and they may have full control over the new blogview #but MY custom blog layout has always been and always will be MINE to format and present however I want #that's the whole point #tumblr #psa #tutorial #my words #tumblr themes #wendy's help desk

[hongjoongsart]

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | Choi San

💐 IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account (hongjoongspoetry).

💐 Summary: Being a mother wasn’t an item on your bucket list, never has and probably never will be. You were more than content with living a childless life and it wasn't an occurring issue before, until you brought your boyfriend on a trip to your parents’ where his love for kids unveiled right in your face. You were adamant on your choice, but scared what the future held for you and your boyfriend.

💐 Pairing(s): idol!San x f!reader

💐 Genres/Tropes: tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, a lil suggestive

💐 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), mentions of pregnancies, arguments, explicit language, expectations that come with being a woman, reader doesn't want babies, pushy family, emotional invalidation, listed pregnancy side effects, san with kids

💐 Wordcount: 12.2K

💐 Author's note: Here's a lil treat inspired by my fear of pregnancies. I am not a mother and I'm not trying to offend anyone who is. I haven't experienced motherhood so I wouldn't understand the complicit feelings that come with it, this is more my observation of it I guess.

Edited 22 January, 2024!

AO3 Playlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent San in any way or form.

Babies weren’t foreign to you even at the age of five.

You knew what they were; you had been one, your parents and siblings too, heck every living thing had been a baby at one point in their life. From the carrots growing in your grandma’s garden to the old ducks swimming in the pond down the street. 

Babies were cute. A bit annoying, but nonetheless cute. Probably the reason why your parents decided to have so many children or was it the nostalgia of holding an infant when their kids grew up to be living ticking time bombs. 

It wasn’t anything weird or something you paid attention to. It was quite simple too; people had children because they fell in love or to keep the relationship floating.

Children were simple beings. What they hear they shall question. Seeing your teacher highly pregnant, rubbing her stomach and wearing a gleeful expression, talking about birth and pregnancies and everything else coming with that had you taking in the information like a sponge absorbing water. 

“Mom, did you give birth to me?” 

“Of course, honey, I am your mom aren’t I?” You remember her gently wiping your cheek, a warm smile adorning her face.

You hummed in agreement, throwing a cut piece of steak in your mouth somewhat satisfied with her answer. Your eyes filtered between Hana and Jun, watching them push at each other’s shoulders clearly bickering over something so pointless your dad couldn’t bother stopping them. Not that it was possible, they were brought into this world together and separating them would only bring more chaos.

“Did you give birth to Hana-unnie and Jun-oppa too?”

“Yah! What do you think, airhead?!” Jun snarkily replied and got a light whack of the head by your sister.

“Sweetie, don’t hit your brother.” 

Hana rolled her eyes. “Even if he deserves it?” 

“Even if he deserves it,” your father concluded and urged them to eat. 

Another piece of meat was flung in your mouth as you stared at the family portrait behind the twins, focusing on your other siblings who moved out a long time ago and already started their own families. Your mother saw the bemused tingle covering your features.

“Go on and eat your food.”

A small pout adorned your lips, “How do you give birth?”

Your parents were more than prepared for the wonders of your mind, any question fired at them had already been answered years ago with your older siblings. That’s what they thought at least and it explained why the dinner table went pin silent as the question was flung out in the open.

The seasons changed like your father changed channels. Spring fluttered into summer quicker than expected. Budded flowers opened, the various colored roses adorning your grandma’s fence beautifully. The breeze welcomed you with open arms, proudly announcing the start of summer break. The transition between summer and autumn was slow. The rich green leaves took their time changing shades – red, orange and eventually an ugly brown that reminded you of wet mornings and cold coffees – before the howling wind swirled them away, stripping the trees of its beauty. 

As the years passed your My Little Pony boots were replaced with wedge heels and your favorite color wasn’t pink, but black – even though Jun argued black wasn’t a color – and before you knew it Hana moved out with her boyfriend, now husband, of six years. A small but evident baby bump peeking behind her knitted sweater.

You were seventeen at that time, the twins twenty-two and your remaining siblings already thirty-something. 

Her baby girl wasn’t the first grandchild of your family tree and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last either, because four years later she welcomed another child into the world just a couple of months before your brother’s wife. That made a grand total of seven grandkids, three girls and four boys.

You were very grateful to your mom for giving birth to you last and grateful for the free birth control your siblings provided you with. Despite their children having moments of incarnating the devil, they weren’t the issue to your disdain of want for a baby. 

Some said it was the lack of a boyfriend and others pointed out you being too focused on your academic studies – that your decision to start university was too hasty – depriving you of your youth, as if a newborn wouldn’t.

You saw what motherhood did to your sisters and in-laws, and it wasn’t anything you’d like for yourself. Not even after meeting your boyfriend, who you were madly in love with and he was completely head over heels for you, did your perception change. 

Babies were cute to look at, but growing one inside of you? No thanks. 

You glanced at San through the bathroom mirror, white shaving cream around his face.

“Don’t you have filming with the Return of Superman today?” 

“Yep, have to make sure the beard doesn’t scratch the kids.”

You laughed again, “Beard? I haven’t seen you with a stub in how many months now, let alone a beard.”

Your eyes met in the reflection, one of his brows raised and lips puckered as if contemplating something. He then let go of the razor and gently took hold of your waist and neck, pressing his sticky cheek against yours. You yelled out and tried to push him away, but he barely moved.

“What did you say about my beard?”

“You have a beautiful beard! So pretty and well-kept!”

San smiled brightly, dimples popping and eyes creasing as he planted a wet kiss on your forehead. 

“Thank you baby!”

The white cream was washed off with extreme care, as he was afraid of wetting your clothes and hair. 

“There you go.” He threw on a gray hoodie, black hair slightly disheveled but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with you running your hand through it. 

“I’d say thanks, but you’re at fault.”

He rested his hands on your hips, thumbs sneaking underneath the white fabric of your blouse to caress the soft skin beneath. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

Your twentieth lap around the world was filled with many experiences and emotions. You finally moved out of the countryside to the big city and found an apartment in the middle of Seoul. As much as you loved the feeling of freedom and independence you also despised it. Not having anyone waiting on you by the door, no home cooked meals or clean clothes neatly made on your bed reminded you of what you left behind. 

Although it was hard to adapt at first you managed and with the help of a friend you quickly adjusted to the busy city life. As someone wise once said; after rain came sunshine, and your sunshine was San. The boy your friend introduced you to when you still had little to no knowledge of Korean pop groups besides the older generations and singing ring-ding-dong no repeat.

At the time he was just San, a funny and caring friend you could be yourself with, occasionally going out to secluded shops for coffee and pastries. You never questioned the scenery and request of privacy, always giving people the benefit of the doubt, until a girl stopped you on your way to a morning class with the demand you tell her who you were and what connection you had to her Sannie. 

With a trembling voice you answered her truthfully, debunking any conclusions she already made up in her mind.

You didn’t go to school that day or home for that matter either, scared to be followed and questioned again by a potential lover or side-piece so you did the next best thing; stopped by a 7-eleven and spent your morning there before taking the first train to your sister’s unannounced, spilling everything like an overflowing bucket.

As the mature woman she was, she spurred you on to ask San. Saying you deserved answers to your questions and to potentially clear up any misunderstandings – if there were any of that is. 

The moment you told him about the girl, he came forward with who he was, something he admitted he should’ve done immediately, but didn’t for two reasons: a) you allowed him to be himself with no walls and b) he was worried the truth would scare you away. Heck, you were already chased just by being near him and you didn’t even know anything. To your luck, the girl wasn’t his girlfriend or a crazy ex, but a fan and San was an idol.

A few weeks after his confession your friendship progressed and blossomed into a beautiful relationship. You could proudly call him yours in the privacy of your apartment and he could wrap his arm around you – face masks and caps on of course – scaring the prying eyes of other men. He filled your solitude with the comfort and love you missed so dearly.

“Honey, have you seen my gray hoodie? I can’t find it in your wardrobe.” San stood before your closet, torso exposed and an expensive towel you can’t remember the brand of wrapped around his hips.

You were in the kitchen brewing coffee for the both of you. A plain yet pretty dress stuck tightly to your form, “Mmm, I think it’s in the basket with all the other clean clothes.”

The taps of his bare feet filled your apartment accompanied by a gasp seconds later.

“Did you find it?”

Large arms slinked around your waist and pulled you into San’s chest, he nuzzled his nose against the bare spot on your neck before peppering it with tender pecks, “Thank you, honey.”

“Always, baby. Here’s your coffee.”

You gingerly handed him the cup, but San had other plans. Ever-so-gently he titled your head sideways as his lips met yours. It was soft and made your stomach swoop as if going down a steep roller coaster. 

San had that effect on you no matter what he did. 

“You have to…get dressed or…we’ll be late,” you said between kisses. 

His chest vibrated against your back as he hummed in delight, “This is worth getting in trouble for.”

“I’m sure it is, but I don’t think Wooyoung will appreciate that.”

“I don’t care.” 

A laugh bubbled out as you rewarded him with one last kiss to the cheek. Eventually you both parted ways. San went first, wearing an obligatory cap and mask while meeting up with his manager further down the street and you followed shortly after, taking the commute to your workplace. 

“So,” you started after placing the pot on the table between your plates, immediately filling San’s, “my parents invited us to theirs next week.”

He nodded, “I think I can make it, but I’ll have to double-check with the guys and managers.”

It was the first date night in weeks where both of you were free from work and had enough energy to meet up. You originally invited all the boys, but San was keen on keeping you to himself, claiming he wanted some alone time. If it were up to him he’d see you everyday even for just five minutes, arguing that the short time could give him the motivation to work harder. In return you reminded him the journey from his dorm to your place was a thirty minute long drive without traffic, the energy he’d get would evaporate in seconds.

“It’s okay if you can’t make it, Sannie. I know you guys have a lot to do, especially with the release of your new album.”

“Mmm, don’t worry about that. We’ll see first, but I’m telling you now. I want to go.” He reached for your hand across the small table and you returned the sentiment with a squeeze before beckoning him to eat.

You took notice of his upturned lips and crescent moon eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight, San was always in a good mood and when he wasn’t he still mustered up a smile warm enough to brighten your day.

“What are you smiling about?” You teased, carrying a grin of your own.

“You should have seen the kids the other day, they were so cute.”

“Oh, it completely slipped my mind to ask. How was it?”

“It was fun and they were so, so cute. All of them really.”

“I can imagine, Sannie.”

“I don’t want to say too much, you still have to wait for the episode, but ohhh! I can’t stop smiling.”

You chuckled and enjoyed seeing your boyfriend suffer a hard case of baby fever. San loved kids, put that man near a kid and anyone in one mile radius would see it. That was how you found out. 

You were babysitting your niece one random Thursday night, your brother claiming ‘you owed him’ for something you did in your childhood days that was long forgotten. San asked if you were free that same night, but you sadly turned him down, briefly explaining the situation and voilá. The date was moved from a five star restaurant to your living room with blankets and ice cream and a toddler with bigger love for Bluey than her aunt.

San’s love for kids wasn’t something he expressed with you, but rather something you saw through gentle touches and light coos, a few stolen pecks here and there.

It wasn’t an issue to you. In all honesty, it was attractive because how many men did you know who actually showed interest in their children? How many dads knew their kids’ birth dates or their favorite ice cream flavor?

And yeah, you felt the same. Your nieces and nephews were cute, especially when they wore matching clothes for Chuseok and Christmas. Don’t even get you started on their birthday costumes.

But it wasn’t enough to make you want one. 

It wasn’t worth the nine month long journey of fatigue, mood swings, nausea, stretch marks and not to mention the painful process of giving birth and what came after; potentially loss of teeth, tearing the perineum, hair loss… the list is truly endless.

Not wanting kids wasn’t a problem until you stumbled into San who carried a love big enough for the whole population of South Korea. 

“I can’t wait till we have kids,” San admitted as you stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of rice.

The clock hanging above the kitchen entrance didn’t freeze but you sure did. The words would make anyone squeal and melt at once, however they washed over you like a big cold wave in the atlantic ocean and sent your food into the wrong pipe. San jumped up from his seat and patted your back while opening a can of coke with his other hand. 

“Drink this.” He pushed the beverage in your hands and waited to make sure you were alright. The coughing didn’t stop but at least you could breathe. “Better?”

You sent him a nod, not trusting your voice to keep its cool. San didn’t question the lack of response to his blunt statement nor why you nearly choked to death. The night ended with you two hastily filling the dish machine and cuddling together on the couch with you laying on top of him. A boring movie played on the big TV while you basked in each other’s embrace. 

Halfway through the movie you cleared your throat, not being able to shake the conversation from earlier, “You want kids?”

“Not right now, but someday,” San said, one hand under his head and the other rubbing your back. He then glanced down at you. “Don’t you?”

You turned so your chin rested on his chest, noses almost touching and his peppermint breath fanning your face.  The simple two letter word was stuck in your throat, and like the coward you were you swallowed them down with guilt. You shot him a quick smile and even manually crinkled your eyes to make it more believable.

Twenty minutes later and San was out like a light, the hectic schedules and plenty of sleepless nights getting to him in the end. Sleep didn’t come as easy to you. Mind too occupied with thinking, thinking and more thinking. Tears blurred your eyes and you didn't know if they were from the stuffy room or the guilt bubbling in your abdomen. 

The incident was pushed under the rug in your living room, neither bringing it up again nor the topic of a future family, mainly because you were both drowning in work and adult responsibilities. The days passed in a flash and when Friday came around San was parked outside the building early in the morning, welcoming you with a preheated seat and a cup of steaming hot coffee. 

“The twins and their kids are the only ones who could come. Mimi-unnie’s little ones caught the flu and Jin couldn’t get away from work.”

Coming from a rather small family and then moving in with seven men he considered brothers was quite the change for young San, so hearing that neither Mimi or Jin, and their respective families, could make it made him deflate.

“That’s unfortunate. We haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Yeah, but at the same time I can already feel the headache coming from having seven kids running around all day.”

“That’s how Hongjoong must feel all the time.”

The image of seven twenty-something-year olds running around as toddlers and an exhausted Hongjoong not far behind them popped up in your head and brought out a laugh. Then last week’s phone call with your mother interrupted the vision and you got serious again. 

“Did you bring spare clothes? Mom said they were warning of a rainstorm.” 

“Yep. It’s in the trunk with your things.”

Your hands rested on your lap and San, feeling the need to touch you, gently intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He occasionally withdrew when changing gears before resuming his hold. The ride was long and by the time you arrived you were exhausted despite not doing anything but passing San snacks every once in a while. 

Squeals of joy and multiple little feet padding against the hardwood floor had your lips curling upwards as you opened the door. You crouched down and were greeted with two kids catapulting in your embrace.

“Hello little chicks,” you said and planted a kiss on the crown of their heads.

“Did you miss us?” Borah asked, her small hands tightening around your neck leaving barely any room for her little brother. 

Before you could reassure her the door opened behind you and in came San, thus stealing the lovely cuddle session right from beneath your nose.

“Uncle San!”

He lifted both children in his arms and beamed at their giggles and kicking legs. You craned your head up, eyes trailing up to San’s closed ones, and your heart swelled with love. He looked like he belonged right there surrounded by tiny humans with toothless smiles and snotty noses.  

A tug at your sleeve had your head whipping forwards, “Kai,” you cooed at the youngest of the batch earning a blurb of happy noises.

The hallway proceeded to be crowded by the rest of the house. Hugs and kisses were exchanged with your family and out of the corner of your eyes you could see San exchanging a firm handshake with your father.

“You’re right in time for dinner!” Your mother gleefully exclaimed and ushered you inside, the little ones slinking around her legs like overly fed kittens mooching for more food.

The first hour was spent catching up and talking about everything you’ve missed out on in each other’s lives. Your father initiated small talk with San, asking him about the drive there and if he had a lot of work even wondering how the rest of Ateez were doing. To your relief your parents treated him as their third son and your siblings weren’t opposed to the idea of another brother.

You sat in between Jun and Jisoo – his wife – giving her all of your attention. Apparently she was in the middle of her second trimester, something you just found out. You sent Jun a quick glare and a whack to the back of his head, and as he was about to fight back he slumped back in his seat all thanks to the stern eyes of his wife.

“Here let me help you, mom.” 

San ventured into the open kitchen and took the plates from your mother’s hands. She tried stopping him but it was to no avail, once a gentleman, always a gentleman. So she did the next best thing. 

“Are you not embarrassed Jun? Sitting on your rear while the guests prepare the table!”

“I’m a guest too?!” He cried and Jisoo stifled a laugh behind her palm, the other hand rubbing her swollen belly.

“Yah, guest my ass. It’s your house as much as it’s mine so get over here before I rip your ear off.”

San stood by the table and waited for another chance to interfere, or as Jun liked to call it ‘buttering up to the in-laws’. You creeped up behind San and leaned your cheek against his bicep.

“You good?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. If someone knew what it meant to be separated from family then it was San, having not seen his own parents in how many years now?

“I’m perfect,” you replied and discreetly created some space between you as the rest of the family entered the kitchen. 

Unlike San, you weren’t very keen on showing public affection especially as you guys never did it due to him being a literal celebrity. You had no problem showering him with love behind closed doors, but it was different with so many people around and in front of your parents nonetheless. That was just forbidden, almost illegal in your books. 

As if they hadn’t done the deed at least four times–

“Well go on, why are you standing there like sheep waiting for Lassie.”

Everyone swammered the table per your mother’s request. You, San and Borah sat on one side of the table with your mother and father on each end, and Jun, Jisoo and Hana across from you.

“How is work, sweetie?”

You faced your mother as she filled your plate with food and you practically tore the spatula from her hands.

“It’s good. There’s a lot now that people are on vacation, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’ve always been a hard worker,” she grumbled. “And how are you otherwise?” 

Your brows furrowed, “I’m great too. What do you mean?” 

She stared you dead in the eyes, making sure you were looking at her too, and flickered her gaze down to your stomach and back up again three times.

“I am healthy.”

The bite you tried to hide slipped out and she couldn’t help but scoff. 

“Of course you’re healthy. I don’t give birth to sick babies.”

You don’t know when your mother turned so…sour. When her gentle touches turned to pinches and words of endearment became sneers of displeasure. Over one summer she had changed drastically and called every two to three weeks, asking the same questions, hoping for different answers.

“At least someone here is eating for two.”

The sentence struck you right in the heart and it bothered you how easily she got under your skin. As if prioritizing yourself brought shame on your whole family tree, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a soccer team of grandkids already.

Your sister-in-law smiled timidly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being put in the spotlight just because of your mother’s pettiness.

“Oh, that reminds me, San-ah! We watched your Return of Superman episode,” Hana said excitedly. 

“Who do you like more, uncle San, me or Jaeyul?”

“Mmm, that is a hard question, Borah. How about this, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret?”

The five year old immediately nodded and San – keeping his promise – gently whispered in her ear, “You.” 

A gasp slinked out of her lips and she threw her hands over her mouth, the two exchanged a look and San made a zipping motion over his lips, a gesture Borah copied. 

“Wah, you’re so good with kids San-ah,” Jun complimented.

“I was just about to say that! We couldn’t stop smiling, it was so endearing. All of you, really,” your sister added and pushed her thick glasses up against her nose. 

San straightened at the praise. A dust of red covered his face accompanied with a bright smile. 

“I just love kids.” 

“Then it’s about time you get some, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

Your body tensed and your grip on the spoon tightened. Your mother talked about the matter as if babies were truly delivered by storks and not an almost year long process. You kept your gaze on your plate, not daring to meet anyone’s stares, not when you could feel San’s bore into the side of your face. You two had yet to talk about the future and it wasn’t something you were ready for, especially not after his random burst of baby fever. 

San cleared his throat, “Well I’d rather first put a ring on your daughter’s finger, if that’s alright with her.”

Oh, how you loved this man. 

You didn’t need things to be official to know how you felt about San. A scribble of paper and a ring on your finger wouldn’t make your love more real, but you knew if San asked the big question you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

Heat ran through you, from the center of your heart to the tips of your toes, and it was hard to suppress the smile fighting its way on your face. The twins ‘oh-ed’ loudly, Jun even made the table into a makeshift drum as Borah and Jisoo jumped on the teasing wagon. Your father smiled at the scene before him. It was about time you got married, he thought but kept it to himself. Your mother on the other hand wasn’t all too pleased. As much as she wanted you to marry before conceiving, she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary and with how your life was going, a marriage wasn’t an event in any of her five future calendars.

“Are we supposed to call you Mrs. Choi now?” 

A hard smack resounded in the house with a groan.

The dinner ended with no more personal questions about your and San’s relationship as all the attention was diverted to Jun and Jisoo’s unborn baby. Now you were all gathered in the living room, except for Jisoo who long passed out in Jun’s childhood bedroom. 

“Auntie.” Borah grabbed at your elbow, her legs stretched over your thighs as she sat in San’s lap with her head resting against his chest. 

“Yes, flower?”

Her eyes were droopy and she barely stayed awake despite the loud conversation of the adults. You inched closer to her to easily decipher her slurring words.

“I wanna sleep with you and uncle San.”

“Mmm, you want to cuddle with us?” She nodded tiredly. “Lemme ask uncle San first, okay flower?”

You caressed her hair and she smacked her lips before readjusting herself in San’s arms. Despite balancing between sleep and consciousness she was determined to know his answer. 

It didn’t take much more than a gentle ‘Sannie’ for you to catch his attention, “Borah wants to sleep in our bed. Is that alright with you?” 

He glanced down at the usually sugar rushed child and chuckled at her passed out form. “Of course. Here, I’ll tuck her in.”

While he went upstairs, easily navigating through the house from the previous visits, you stepped foot in the kitchen. The dishes from the dinner had just been pushed aside by your mother as she was dead set on everyone spending more time together, not allowing anyone entry in the kitchen unless it was to get more food. 

Although she was challenging your patience for the past five hours, you still loved her dearly so washing the dishes was the least you could do without blatantly saying it.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” 

Speak of the devil and they shall appear.

“Nothing, making your life easier.”

“Oh, please. My life hasn’t been any easier since you moved out. Constantly worrying about you.”

“Really, mom? There’s nothing to worry about plus it’s not like I’m alone. I have San.” You rinsed a plate and stacked it on the rack to your left.

“I know…That’s what I’m afraid of.”

A glass nearly slipped out of your hands. Your confused eyes met her worried ones and you bit the inside of your cheek, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Why…I’m sorry, what are you exactly…afraid of?” 

The anxiety grew like weeds in your mind at her gentle whisper of your name. Did she not like San? But that was impossible; she practically referred to him as her favorite son-in-law. 

“Don’t you think it’s time you two get serious?”

“Okay!” You dropped the sponge in the sink and placed your soapy hands on your hips. “You really need to stop talking in riddles or my head is going to explode from anxiety.”

“There you go again with that anxiety. It’s not real!”

“Nope! Don’t try to change the subject. Say what you really mean or just stop talking, mom I swear it’s the only chance I’m giving you to be outright honest with me.”

A beat of silence passed and then another. Just as you thought she was backing down, the second most outrageous thing of the day came out of her mouth.

“Get married to San before he leaves you for someone else.”

You scoffed, “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”

The rag hanging off your shoulder was snatched as you used it to dry your hands, but the anger proved that to be difficult so you bolted up to your room, not bothering with bidding anyone a good night’s sleep. You just needed to get away from the tension downstairs and, believe it or not, you craved San’s comfort.

Anger clouded your vision and all rational thoughts were pushed aside as you threw the door open, scaring San and nearly arousing little Borah. As much as you wanted to slam it shut, you couldn’t. Instead you did the childish-angry thing where you swing the door with all your might and stop it just as it was about to close and create an atomic-like explosion. 

San rose from his comfortable position on the pink fluffy carpet that teenage-you chose, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching for you. 

He had changed out of the black hoodie and gray suit pants and into something more comfortable; a satin black pajamas you gifted him for Valentine’s day with a pair of semi-rimless glasses perched on his nose. Something about the look made him so domestic your anger nearly disappeared into thin air. 

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?” 

You hid your face in your hands and San wasted no time taking you in his arms, bringing your body close to him. The motion had you sighing deeply as you exhaustively sunk into his embrace. San didn’t push for an answer and for that you were grateful. He rubbed your back and kissed your temple, nose and cheek.

“It’s my mom,” you eventually whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

You didn’t move at first, weighing your options. Sharing the harsh words of your mom would lead to a conversation you weren’t ready to take. So you shrugged and clasped your hands around his torso. 

“Yes and no.”

“Okay, come here.” 

He gave you another kiss before moving you so your back was against his chest and shuffled over to the bed. He sat down by Borah’s feet, careful not to wake her, and pulled you between his legs dangling over the edge of the queen sized bed. His hands found home on your stomach immediately easing you off your anger. 

“We’ll do whatever you feel like. We can talk about it if you want or I can just listen to you, but if you don’t want to we won’t. We can find something else to do. It’s up to you, honey.”

You took his hands in yours and examined his each and every finger. A wave of nervousness washed over you and a distraction was needed to untangle your tied tongue. 

“She just said some…mean things I guess.”

“About you?”

You nodded silently. “About us.”

San hummed and you honestly expected a stronger reaction, but you should’ve known better. 

He was rational and never really lashed out, at least not that you knew of. You’d never seen him angry enough to act on it.

“She didn’t mean anything ill thought, but you were the starting point of it.”

“Look at me?”

As you faced him his eyes immediately found yours and in them were swirls of pure affection and sincerity.

“I love you.”

The skin on your cheeks burned hot and your lips curled into an embarrassed smile. The confession sent a magic tingle through your body.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he said again, not satisfied with your response.

“I love you too, Sannie.”

“Good. Don’t worry ‘bout what your mom says. I love you and nothing will change that.”

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

“Nothing?”

Not even your fear of childbirth? 

Or the idea that the two of you never may have children?

“Nothing, my love.”

And if he noticed the turn your smile took – going from happy to sad – he didn’t mention it. Because despite everything you couldn’t stop the gnawing thoughts of dread and what if’s from filling your mind.

“Did you watch the episode?”

“What episode?”

“The one of Seonghwa-hyung, Woo and I with the kids.”

Right, that one.

At first you didn’t purposely push it back on your agenda but the more you remembered his wish of starting a family the more chores you suddenly had to do and oh, that pile of paperwork could certainly not wait until after the weekend and when you actually had the time to watch it your phone would ping with a billion messages, every single one coming from San who insisted he craved to hear your voice and see your ‘absolutely angelic face’ – his words. 

So no. You hadn’t seen it.

“Ah, really?” He laughed at the speed you shook your head. “Well, let’s watch it together.”

“Now?”

“Mmm. Unless you don’t wanna?”

“Oh– Uhm, no! Go ahead, I’ll just change into something comfortable.”

Why he brought his laptop for a two day journey, you had no idea but apparently it worked in his favor because there you were laying on the side closest to the wall with Borah snuggled between you guys while the laptop was perched on San’s stomach, the episode playing in full swing.

Every interaction with the twins or Jaeyul made your guts twist and clench. You had to admit it was cute; so cute that your dinner almost went back up the same way it came from. You felt so bad and the worst of it all was the guilt that followed, the guilt of knowing you weren’t doing anything wrong yet you’d still be treated as if you were. 

And it was such a shitty situation, because how come that the man who’d single-handedly light up each and every star for you, also was the one to summon the clouds obscuring the night sky?

You didn’t notice San’s lingering eyes or the way his fingers itched to hold yours or the three word long question resting on his tongue. Not that he was being obvious about it. Whenever you looked at him he’d flash you that derpy smile of his and a reassuring blink that lasted a second too long. 

It may have been unclear to you, but nothing passed your radar of a brother. He did have the maturity of a boy going through early stages of puberty, but you had to give it to him, he was observant. Too observant for his own good.

“What’s going on with you and lover boy?”

Thanks to Jun’s stupidity you both were honored with dish-duties. What you didn’t know was that it was all a part of his masterplan. 

“What?”

“I don’t know I’m the one asking you.”

You glared at him and he wordlessly took the clean tray from you.

“I’m just saying, we dudes, we see when something’s wrong.”

“So something’s wrong with San?”

“Not with San.” He put the tray in place and threw the rag over his shoulder, painfully dragging out the conversation, “With you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me?” 

“Mm-mm, there is. You’re all tense and silent, and anytime someone mentions a baby you do this thing where you disapp– Yeah, just like that!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at your face void of emotion.

“I’m just not feeling it today.”

A gasp left his mouth and he looked around almost alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re…pregnant?” He whispered the last word as if it was a crime that could sentence you to life in prison.

Out of sheer surprise and terror you smacked the side of his head. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” You hissed back.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“It is a no!” 

“Okay, don’t hit me again!” As you raised your arm he simultaneously threw his hands up to shield himself from your wrath. 

A third party watched the banter from the living room, his feet tucked under his thighs in a pretzel motion and tongue poking at his cheek. The three years you spent together, from the platonic start to the blossoming romance, granted you more knowledge of each other than anyone else. 

San noticed your change in behavior at the dinner table last night, after the talk with your mother and as you cozied up to him in bed. At first he brushed it off as jitters for not being home for so long and the overwhelming emotions of finally meeting everyone again, but the more he thought of it the more he realized it wasn’t like you. And he promised himself to ask you about it, he just needed to find the perfect moment when you weren’t being swammered by everyone else which proved to be nearly impossible. If you weren’t hounded by your mother or bothered by your siblings, then you were stuck with the little ones and their sticky fingers.

“San-ah.”

Hana brought him out of his thoughts.

“Do you ever see yourself having kids?”

The question threw him off guard because wasn’t it obvious? What more could he want than to start a family with the love of his life?

“Of course, but it’s not something we’ve gotten around yet. We’re not rushing anywhere either!” 

Hana nodded and took a long sip of her chamomile tea. There was something so uneasy with her watchful eyes and the slight purse of her lips that had San thinking a little too much to his liking.   

Was he missing something? 

And he really shouldn’t have asked, prod at her interest and start something he wasn’t sure he was ready for but being the curious cat he was, San couldn't help himself.

“If you don’t mind, why are you asking?”

“Mmm…you see, she’s not the brightest when it comes to children.”

That sentence sounded like an unstrung guitar being played with a dull rock underwater. If San remembered correctly, you shone the brightest around your nieces and nephews. There was never a dull moment with them, always bringing you to tears from laughing too much. He saw you with them; you were gentle, thoughtful and careful, and he was certain it had nothing to do with you sharing the same blood. 

San must have looked confused because Hana spluttered out an explanation, her hands waving around at the speed of light. 

“I’m just saying that because I know how you’re with kids. Anyone can see you love them and I know it wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

“What wouldn’t be fair?”

“Not having kids,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

San wanted to ask more questions yet he decided to hold his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to see the complete puzzle anyways and he knew the missing piece could only be received from one person – you.

“It’s a mutual concern of ours and we are just looking out for you.” She gave him a few pats of comfort, for what he had yet to find out, “God knows my husband would be devastated if I didn’t want kids.”

San listened silently, the frown on his face deepening with each word.

Did your sister not want kids? 

He followed her line of vision leading straight to you and then it hit him.

You didn’t want kids. 

The images of San holding a toddler that was the spitting image of him; a head too big for its body, chubby cheeks and faint brows, haunted you every night. Some dreams were more vivid than others, but they were never the same. The most recent one was of the three of you taking a walk in the park. The little girl sat on San’s shoulders wearing a purple hat with cat ears while you trailed behind them, a matching bag around your shoulder and a camera in your hands. As San turned around you caught a glimpse of their bright smiles and identical dimples. The girl saw you and stretched her arms out, a giddy ‘mom!’ tumbling out of her mouth.

That’s when you woke up in a puddle of sweat. You could barely catch your own breath as you jumped out of bed, nearly toppling to the floor in the process. 

A cloud of guilt and shame loomed over you for various reasons. Mainly for dreaming of a future you could not see for yourself. It got to the point where you stayed up all night just to avoid the dreams. You picked up more shifts at the office, working late nights and early mornings, and it was a success until you cleared your whole schedule. Then came the idea of starting a new hobby; crocheting but your patience ran out rather quickly, who knew learning a double crochet would be so difficult? 

Your guilty conscience affected your relationship with San too. Dates were painfully awkward as if you were a high school couple going on your first outing together, stealing shy glances and looking away as soon as your eyes met. 

Then it was the skinship, whenever you accidentally touched fingers or feet collided underneath the dinner table, you’d withdraw so quickly as if burned by the scorch of a hundred suns. It was almost foreign to cuddle up on the couch too, San’s hands on your lower back and your cheek against his chest. At first you didn’t think he noticed the change in your behavior, but as you laid on top of him you could feel his heart rapidly beat in your ear and hands ghost over your skin, a trail of goosebumps following his faint touch.

Neither dared to speak up about the thick tension, assuming it would all go away in due time but the closer you got to the date of Ateez leaving for their tour in Latin America, the less likely it was to subdue. 

Little did you know San wasn’t feeling any better himself. Hana’s words played in his head on a loop, creating new presumptions of what she meant. She wasn’t that straightforward with her message and San could’ve either pieced together the wrong information or been completely spot on. He’d never know if he never asked, which proved to be harder than expected.

The few times your schedules aligned you were interrupted by San’s phone – Seonghwa and Mingi checking if he was dining at yours or with them – and if it weren’t that then it was something else. The days he made sure nothing could interrupt he’d chicken out last minute and smoothly avert the attention to anything remotely more interesting.

“Did you see Mingi’s new hair color?”

“I made Jongho promise to teach you how to break an apple in half!”

“Yeosang wants to buy a puppy!”

The confidence San possessed on stage in front of thousands was plummeting to the ground. Hard and fast. It honestly baffled him how much control one person could hold over him. Not that he complained, who was supposed to make his knees weak and brain all mushy besides you?

Knees weak and mushy brain was exactly how he felt as you opened the door, revealing yourself. You wore a black and white striped sweater with a black skirt stopping midthigh. The top was slightly big so you tucked it in your skirt. A small dark bag hung over your shoulder matching your leather boots. Simple yet elegant jewelry adorned your fingers and ears. You topped it off with black see-through stockings and black coat. 

“Is this too much for a night out?”

You were stunning. 

“It’s perfect, babe.” 

He handed you a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses mixed with fillers, the brown paper gave them an old school look. You suppressed a squeal of joy and took the flowers from him, planning to put them in a vase, but not before planting a quick and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. Your lipstick smeared on his skin almost camouflaging with the redness crawling up his neck, attacking his ears and cheeks, luckily for him you bolted to the kitchen, embarrassed at your own gesture.

You truly were like a pair of high schoolers, but for once you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.  Perhaps it was your consciousness pushing the thoughts away for the night as it was your last date before San left overseas. 

“Ready to go?”

San was breathtaking.

It was no surprise that your boyfriend was a work of art, but there was something different about him tonight. Dark slacks accented his hard thighs a black turtleneck covered his bulging arms and slim waist with a gray coat hung snuggly over his frame reaching his calves. You always said his natural hair color suited him the best and it was true, especially when it was slicked back with a few strands falling over his exposed forehead.

You gulped harshly, “Yup.” 

You placed your hand in his and smiled as his fingers thread through yours like the roots of a tree becoming one with the earth. Giddy smiles hid behind your masks but the sparkle in your eyes was brighter than the night sky and its million stars.

San stuffed your woven hands in the pocket of his large coat for the short walk to his manager’s car and then his hand found its long lost place on your thigh during the drive to your favorite restaurant. 

You were addicted to his reassuring words and mellow touches.

San held his breath and was fully prepared to feel your body still at the skinship or for you to slowly pull away, but when you did the complete opposite – tightening your hold on his hand – he exhaled in relief. 

The restaurant was made for celebrities to have somewhere to go and enjoy their time without noisy people and overbearing fans. They even had a no phone policy to maximize the safety and privacy of everyone inside, that way the possibility of scandals coming out were zero to none. It wasn’t everyday you went on expensive dates for obvious reasons, mainly because of San’s schedule but also because you felt bad for him paying every time. It was no secret San earned more money than you, being a literal idol, but you still made it work somehow.  

For the first time in a while you felt good beside him. The unsettling dreams and thoughts of the future were as if non-existent and you didn’t want it any other way, at least for the night. Halfway through your second glass of wine San started blabbering about the tour. You wouldn’t say he was drunk, but rather relaxed. 

“So where are you going first?”

He thought for a minute, “Mexico, Brazil, Chile and then Colombia.”

“Isn’t it your first time performing there? That must be exciting!”

“Mhm, I can’t wait to see our Latin American Atinys. I know some of them have been with us since predebut. Honestly I’d travel around the world just to meet them all.”

“That’d be the dream wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “It’d be even better if you were there with me.”

His small pout and glistening eyes made you laugh, “Because that’d be such a good idea. I can bet all my life savings it would end up in a disaster one way or another.”

“What? Why?”

You placed your utensils down, “San, honey. I don’t think you realize how popular you are, like all of twitter wants to fuck you.” 

San stopped mid chewing, his eyes wide and brows raised to the roof. The loading wheel appeared above him and he smiled embarrassingly as your words finally registered, his teeth white but the tips of his ears burned red. 

“Yah, don’t say that.” He suddenly looked away as if he wasn’t showered with compliments on a daily basis.

“Well it’s Atinys’ words, not mine.” 

“You jealous?”

The cheekiness didn’t go unnoticed by you so in an equally teasing tone, you replied, “I can’t be jealous of something I actually get to do.”

And if there was anything better than a tipsy San then it was a flustered one.

“You shy, baby?”

He shook his head with a little ‘no’ that barely reached your ears.

The rest of the date was perfect – much to your surprise – and not once did the guilt ridden thoughts infiltrate your mind, not even when you passed a happy couple pushing a stroller on your way home or when you saw, what must have been, the biggest smile of the night on San’s handsome face. For a split second you thought everything would work out in the end. You’d overcome this obstacle just like you did with the move to Seoul or with the test you nailed after months of pulling all-nighters. But only for a split second because as the clock struck midnight your night took an unexpected turn with it.

“You need a place to stay for the night?” It came out more suggestive than you intended, however you didn’t mind.

“I don’t know, did you plan to sleep tonight?”

Your pointer finger rested against your chin as you pretended to think.

“If that’s the case then you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

A pair of very familiar hands grabbed your hips sending an electric feeling through your body despite the skirt separating your skin from touching. Your bodies fit like two pieces of a missing puzzle. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied and threw your head back against the crook of his neck. 

“Good.”

You were a feather in San’s hand and he treated you with care. Never too rough or foul, always considerate and kind but not opposed to it if you asked. He spun you around and stared at you with a million stars in his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the beautiful galaxy that is you. 

San cupped your cheek and traced your bottom lip with his thumb. His touch stopped at the corner of your mouth, his eyes widened as you lightly bit down on his finger. Your warm tongue against his cold skin. Your parted lips pulled into a smirk and it spurred San to push his thumb deeper in your mouth, now laying completely flat against the wet muscle. The innocent yet sultry bat of your eyes drove him crazy.

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

He wanted you. He wanted to lick and nip at your skin, paint it full of violet and crimson clover. Make your writhe and turn in his hold until breathless pleas filled your apartment. He craved you beneath him, bare and vulnerable while he worshiped your body with praises and sinful words. He wanted to make love to you.

Yet he couldn’t. 

Not when you were both haunted by your thoughts.

He slipped his thumb from your mouth taking the sexual atmosphere with it.

“Love?” 

His eyes snapped to yours and he knew then and there that the art of love wouldn’t solve any of your worries, because at the end of the night he’d still travel halfway across the world with the nagging thoughts packed between his briefs and socks.

“Is everything alright?” You gently latched onto his wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I love you,” San suddenly confessed.

A crease formed between your brows, lips glued together and eyes almost glossy. You were taken back at the sweet words but even more so at the way he was looking at you – almost sad. 

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he repeated. 

The scene wasn’t a sense of deja-vu, that much you knew, but rather a memory from a few weeks ago. A memory that was much sweeter and domestic than now. The response San expected to hear didn’t come as quickly as he hoped and through his tipsy vision he recognized a moment of hesitation. 

“Honey?”

“I love you too, San.” 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He suddenly asked.

The loving touches and flirty banter went down the drain and you were left with a silence so loud and overwhelming you couldn’t think properly. 

“What?”

“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something’s got you distracted.”

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Absolutely nothing?”

“San…everything's fine.”

“Except it isn't! I know you enough to see the changes. You barely sleep and this is the first time in days where I’ve seen you with a real smile.”

It broke his heart to see you slink from his embrace. Arms crossing over your chest and head turning sideway.

“Honey, please talk to me.” He sounded desperate. 

“And I am. There’s nothing wrong.” 

He raked his hand through his hair. The deep sigh whirling around your apartment. 

“Don’t lie. Not to me.”

You stayed silent yet again. 

“I’m here for you, always will be.”

“I can’t,” you whispered into the august breeze.

“What?”

“I can’t tell you,” you repeated a little louder.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll hate me!” It stung San into silence. “You’ll hate me and never want to speak to me again.”

He hungered for your touch, hands itching to reach for yours and as he took a step forward you took one back.

“You can’t keep it bottled up forever, love.” 

“I can try.”

Tears formed in your eyes and your voice cracked. You tried blinking them away but they raced down your cheeks against your will.

“C’mere.”

That was all it took for you to fling yourself at him. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, nails digging into the expensive material. One hand cradled the back of your head and the other supported your back, rubbing gentle circles against your knitted sweater. San leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your crown, lingering and breathing in the sweet scent of you.

“I can’t breathe without you by my side so if you think I’ll ever hate you, you’re wrong. My love, you could break my heart a thousand times over and I’d still find reason to love you.”

Hot tears soaked into his shirt and you wanted to disagree but the tremble of your lips told you to be quiet so you shook your head violently instead.

You stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms with soft kisses and soothing touches. The emotions swirling around the apartment were too big for your shoulders and the rational part of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to carry them with you much longer.

“I don’t want children.”

It was interesting how a four worded sentence could either be the demise or rise of a relationship. What path your and San’s would take was yet to be determined, but God did you hope it was the latter. 

The argument broke out three days ago and while you've gone months without seeing each other, these 72 hours were by far the most excruciating period of your relationship. You didn’t ever think there’d be a person you’d miss this much. To see and hold, kiss and laugh with.

The first day was spent bathing in your own tears and snot. You were forced out of work by your co-workers as they didn’t buy your lie of ‘everything being alright’. It wasn’t like you could tell them your idol boyfriend of three years ran head first out of your apartment after an argument, absolutely not because you literally told him to give you space. So from nine am to nine pm you were cooped up in your bed, crying, scrolling through your socials, crying some more until you eventually fell asleep. 

The second day wasn’t anything better, except for the three tubs of ice cream you inhaled. They were kept in the back of your freezer for emergencies such as these. With a quick pat on the back for eating something you pushed the containers aside and continued your self wallowing, dressed in one of your (San’s) hoodies that smelled of caramelized sugar. Your phone blew up with calls from your family. Everyone concerned about you suddenly going MIA, but not enough to pay you a visit which you were both thankful and bitter about.

The third following morning came around and you decided that it was time to get your shit together. You still had a job to return to and bills to pay. It was all going well too, you cleaned the apartment and got rid of all the empty ice cream tubs, made a home cooked meal for the first time in three days, you even changed your bedsheets and did the laundry. The last thing on your list was a well deserved full-body shower.

The frantic ring of your doorbell fell on deaf ears as water pattered on your bare body and the tiled floor. Your fingers worked through your hair, rubbing almost painfully at your scalp as shampoo water went down the drain. 

It was first after you cut the stream and stepped out of the shower that you realized someone was at the door. With a roll of your eyes, you leisurely squeezed the excess water out of your hair and wrapped a towel around yourself. The chime of the bell didn’t stop and you were on the brink of insanity.

There were only two people with keys to your place; San and your mom. 

Your parents had no reason for coming all the way to Seoul in the middle of the day and San…even though your relationship wasn’t in the best shape you knew he’d never turn up unannounced, whether he told you by call or text didn’t matter as long as he reached out. He said it was a way of respecting your privacy and as much as you didn’t care for that, it was heartwarming. 

6:30 PM glared the digital clock on the console table in the hallway. 

All you wanted was one normal day. A morning without spilling coffee on your clean clothes, an afternoon without stubbing your toe on the desk in your office and a night without someone trying to sell you cookies or whatnot. It’d also be so much easier to crawl beneath your sheets and cry yourself to sleep without a maniac creating the newest billboard hit outside your apartment, but hey each to their own.

As much as you wanted to swing the door open and bark out profanities at the nuisance, you knew better and opted with looking through the peeping hole. Never did you expect a soaked San to stand there, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet while desperately abusing the doorbell.

San didn’t have time to react, neither at the door being opened nor for you appearing with only a towel. You took hold of his hand and dragged him inside to which he shut the door behind him and somehow managed to take off his shoes. You threw him a spare towel and disappeared in your room. San stood there like a kicked dog, ears flat against his head and tail certainly not wagging. A few seconds later you returned dressed in one of San’s many t-shirts and your pajama shorts, carrying a change of clothes.  

You wordlessly gave them to him and escaped to your room again. San took that as his queue to get dressed. 

The run to your apartment gave him barely any time to collect his thoughts, too busy with providing his burning lungs with air and keeping an eye out for cars and potential followers. So now that he stood, not in front of your door, but in your living room he was completely shitting his pants. 

The cold and distant facade you managed to pull off in front of him crumbled the second you crossed the threshold of your room. You really strained all seventeen of your muscles not to cry and you could argue it was your best accomplishment yet as not a single tear kissed your cheeks.

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spot on the bed. Staring at your partner who stopped by the door. Your throat was dry and itchy, brain indiciseive of what to say and do. He wasn’t supposed to be here, that much you knew. Their agency had this weird rule of not allowing their idols out a day prior to their tour and it didn’t sit right with you knowing he went against their words, for you nonetheless. 

“San, what are you doing here?”

Unsteady sleeping schedules, caffeine filled drinks and insomnia were the standard for idols. Anyone claiming otherwise was either lying straight through their teeth or had a great planning method something San could really use these days. 

San was no stranger to succumbing to sleep at the early hours of the morning or not sleeping at all. The extra time was usually put into practice or perfecting his secret project, and sometimes something simple as laying in bed staring up at the ceiling.

But now it was hard to do any of that with you taking over his every thought. He found himself wondering about things that weren’t supposed to infiltrate his mind for the next five years. 

Get married. Move in. Adopt a cat. Have kids.

A short list of things that were crossing the line between adolescence and adulthood. 

The image of you and San doing that together spread a radiant smile across his face and his roommates, clueless as ever, couldn’t stop their own mouths from curving upwards. There was truly no other person he could think of doing any of that with and his heart was heavy as he realized he may never complete the list.

It took three calls from Seonghwa for San to acknowledge the older man sitting on the edge of his bed beside the open and empty suitcase. 

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Seonghwa leaned back on his arms keeping him from completely falling on the bed and stared at San’s computer screen, nonchalantly watching as he played one of his many games. The elder had come straight out of his own room from finishing a youtube live – a youtube live San crashed for a good fifteen minutes before abruptly leaving – and although Atiny probably didn’t notice the change of behavior in the younger Ateez member, Seonghwa did. 

San sighed as the last character of his team died and the word ‘defeat’ flashed in large capital letters took over the majority of the screen. 

“San-ah.”

Said man placed his expensive headset on the desk and twirled in his chair, and Seonghwa had a feeling the glum look on his features wasn’t from losing the game. 

“I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just checking if there’s something bothering you. Something I can help you with?” 

The prolonged silence did nothing to soothe Seonghwa’s worries. He closely watched the hesitation slowly crack through San’s facade – bottom lip caught between his teeth, picking at his nails and eyes glazed over, darting literally everywhere except at Seonghwa.

Cautiously, he asked if it had something to do with you and his suspicion was confirmed when their eyes met. 

“It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

“Because I thought of a thing and it turns out I was right.”

Seonghwa tried asking as few questions as possible to not overwhelm San, but the conversation wasn’t giving him much to work with.

“And what were you thinking about?”

San ran his hands through his black hair and looked as if he was racking his brains, he then violently rubbed at his eyes too. It was one thing to think about the whole situation and another to say it out loud, possibly speaking it into existence. 

“You don’t have to te–”

“Starting a family.” 

The trip to your hometown really did a number on him, Seonghwa thought. 

Cheeks red and palms sweaty, San cleared his throat. A little embarrassed at the confession and for cutting Seonghwa off so abruptly.

“I was thinking of what it’d be like to start a family with her.”

“Starting a what with who?”

Mingi stood in the doorway with parted lips and eyebrows raised to the roof, wet tufts of blonde and black hair peeked from underneath the towel on his head.

“It was just a thought.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with it,” Seonghwa assured.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter.” 

“How come?” Mingi pressed, now leaning against the door.

“Because she doesn’t want a family…or well, at least not kids.”

Seonghwa and Mingi exchanged glances. All of Ateez knew of San’s adoration for kids. Heck, Seonghwa had front row seats to it and all. He remembered thinking how skilled San was with the twins and even with the energized boy. 

But none of it mattered now. If what San said was true – which he had no doubts about – then your choice went above everyone else’s, including San’s. 

“And how do you feel about that?”

San looked at the eldest. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, sure I love kids I do, but I love her more.”

“Then I don’t see what the issue is,” Mingi chimed in. 

“It’s still a bitter situation Mingi, and Sannie has the right to feel…upset. Have you talked to her?” 

San groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands, thinking back how it all escalated so quickly. The split second he tried processing everything, you’d already decided it was time for him to leave and pushed him out, crying how you needed to be alone. Too stunned to properly react, San did as told.

“I walked out…”

Dread filled their guts as Mingi and Seonghwa patiently waited for the remainder of the story. They hoped San wouldn’t say what they were thinking.

“She confided in me at first and then pushed me away, screaming at me to go and I…listened. ”

“Well that changes the trajectory of things don’t you think?” Mingi said after the minute long silence and Seonghwa shot him a pointed look.

“San, we are not leaving for the tour until you talk to her,” Seonghwa declared. 

The elder had no lover of his own, but he had seen enough movies to know how these situations ended. Spoiler alert: a painful break up for both parties.

San shrugged, “I’m sure Hongjoong would like that.”

“And you don’t think your girlfriend would? Listen here. We’re supposed to leave for the airport at seven am, I’ll give you the night if you make amends.”

Seonghwa stopped before San, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “Besides, a family doesn’t become a family when a child is brought into it. If you think about it, the three of us and the rest of the guys are like a family, right?”

“We are a family,” Mingi corrected.

“Exactly. So who’s to say you two aren’t one too?” 

“I’m here to do what I should’ve done days ago.”

It was hard to look him in the eye. The sincerity in them had your heart in knots, tugging and tightening with your every breath. 

“Can I come in?”

San had his arms by his side and hands balled into fists to keep them from trembling. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d be in his arms by the end of the night, but it didn’t stop his pulse from skyrocketing.

“You’re already here.” 

A faint, appreciative smile crossed his features as he gingerly took the seat beside you. There was no real malice to your words and he was thankful because honestly speaking he wouldn’t know what to make of it if you still needed ‘time’. San straightened and breathed out a sigh as if letting go of all his nerves.

“I want to start by saying; I’m sorry.”

You snapped your head towards him, confused as to why he was the one apologizing. You were the issue at hand here. You were the one depriving him of something he wished for, you pushed him away. Not the other way around. 

“I’m really sorry for pressuring you–”

“San, no–” You shook your head, tears already threatening to make their dramatic entrance.

“Just listen to me, please.” 

And his desperate plea was their queue to waltz in much to your dismay. 

San lifted your chin so he could see your face and frowned at the tears. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel obliged to push your feelings aside for me. That has never been my intention and it never will be.”

He cupped your face gently in both hands and wiped away your remaining tears with his thumbs. It pained him to know the tears were inflicted by his doing.

“I love you.”

“San,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. I’m not leaving.”

That was your breaking point. You heaved for air as more tears blurred your vision. A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders as you found solace in his words and San felt his own heart break at your wails. Feeling embarrassed you abruptly stood up and put a hand over your mouth to stop the broken cries. Staying true to his words, San hugged you from behind and pressed you into his embrace. Chin resting against your shoulder as his arms went around your waist. You stood like that until your tears ran dry and cries turned into hiccups.

San whispered words of encouragement in your ear, lips grazing the skin with each pronunciation. Your feet moved with his as he maneuvered you to bed and under the covers. A meteor could hit the earth and he wouldn't leave your side. You laid there in silence with your back to his chest. His arm under your neck and the other curled around your waist, keeping you flushed against his front. Your occasional sniffles filled the gaps letting San know you were awake.

“My love,” he started and you shifted as a reply of acknowledgement, “remember that night at your parents’ house? When your mother said something to upset you and you stormed up to your room?”

You nodded while playing with his fingers spread across your abdomen.

“Do you remember what I told you?” 

“That you loved me and nothing would change that.”

He kissed the back of your head. “I still stand by that. I love you. Not what you can or can’t give me. I love you when you cry and I love you when you laugh. I love you through your anger and grief. I love your kindness and selflessness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, please. You should only apologize when you’ve done something wrong.”

“But I led you on. San, we want different things. You want a child–” your voice cracked and you drew in a sharp breath, “–and that’s not something I’m sure I can give you, ever.” 

“That’s not true.” He sat up and leaned over your body, “I wanna cuddle you to sleep and wake you with breakfast in bed. I want us to buy furniture and assemble it together only to give up halfway through. I want us to bake a ridiculous cake that ends up in a flour fight. I want all of that with you!”

San planted a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“Children or not, it won’t change the fact that I love you and I’ll continue to say it until all the trees are cut down, until the ocean dries out and all the stars go out. I love you. Always have and always will.”

His caring words drew a smile from you and the harsh knot around your heart slowly came undone. His affectionate eyes searched yours and he’d wait an eternity for your answer, but you didn’t need more time to know what you wanted. Your hands caressed the sides of his neck and with a quick pull of his neck, your lips clashed in a passionate kiss.

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

© HONGJOONGSART 2023 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

#[⛰️] HONGJOONGSART #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios #choi san oneshot #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #fluff #angst #idol au #Kpop au #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop writers #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer

[bucks-babe]

I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!

As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.

With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.

Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.

"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.

A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."

A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.

He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman? 

Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.

"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."

Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."

His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."

A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.

“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.

“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.

“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.

“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy. 

You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are. 

Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.

His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.

You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you. 

As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.

“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him. 

Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT!  DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.

His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed. 

Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.” 

“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.

“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him. 

You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.

“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.

“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”

He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.

 Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.

Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.

You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.

Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.

“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.

“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth. 

You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love. 

A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom. 

Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”

“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.

“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.

“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.

“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.” 

“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off. 

“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time. 

“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.

“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #virgin!bucky #Virgin!bucky barnes #Omg this took me so fucking long to finish #thank you for the ask because it gave me the motivation to finish #Sorry to make you guys wait so damn long #Love you all #If you're still reading this drink some water

[dragonheart2497]

things twitter migrants may find useful that dont often get included in "how to tumblr" posts

1- queueing!

instead of feeling bad for spam-reblogging and clogging up other people's feeds, you can click the dropdown and add it to your queue instead!

you can edit how many times a day your queue posts, and between what hours. You can easily re-order or completely shuffle your queue as well!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG STUFF. Tumblr doesn't run on an algorithm!! YOU are responsible for putting cool stuff onto your followers feeds!

"but if i reblog too much people can't see my posts!" i have just the thing for you

2- personal tags

You can have different tags you use on your blog to help people navigate! for example, i use "dh rb art" when I reblog art and "dh rb" for most other reblogs- that's so that people can filter my reblogs out of their feeds if they dont wanna see that, and only want my original posts to show up.

On the other hand, my art is tagged "dh2497" so they can easily search my account for it!

If you open a person's blog and click the search button, a list of Featured Tags will show up. By default this is just the blogger's most used tags, but you can customize what shows up on yours in your blog settings

You can follow entire hashtags too! if you wanna see hermitcraft fanart without following every hermitcraft artist, follow the tag :D

3- Filtering

Tumblr actually hides things you don't wanna see, very nicely!

In your account settings, you can filter specific tags, and even specific words that show up in the post.

sometimes different bloggers warning tag differently (i do [trigger] tw or [content] cw) so you can try to input every variant, but if its something you really want to avoid just put it in the post content as well. Blocklists aren't really a tumblr thing, so if you wanna avoid an entire community you can block their tag as well

NEVER. CENSOR. YOUR WARNINGS. PLEASE. On twitter or tiktok or wherever, you may have to do that or else the algorithm suppresses it- THERES NO ALGORITHM HERE!!! if someone reblogs your post, it will show up for others, don't worry!!! you're just bypassing filters placed for people's safety, if you censor words.

Also! don't worry too much if a word you wanna filter is commonly used in unrelated contexts- tumblr doesn't remove it entirely, but rather adds a 'spoiler' so that you have to click on it to view it. So just in case it is what you want to avoid, you have time to prepare to see it.

4- effective tagging

[read more in detail here] Only the first 5 tags will show up for people who follow the hashtag. That makes them the most important! Then, the first 20 tags will make the post show up when searching that tag. The rest of them do not give your post any visibility.

I see a lot of people reblogging art with fanart tags- that can be useful for searching back the tag in the reblogger's blog specifically, but doesn't actually give the OP more visibility in that tag.

You'll learn what tags to use by checking the content you come across! most communities are "[word]blr", and most fanart goes "#[character/show] fanart". tumblr tags can have spaces!

Lastly, a few notes

you will only have 1 PRIMARY blog. this will appear when you like a post, comment on a post, or follow a blog. your sideblogs will not link back to your primary blog, but you cannot do those interactions as those sideblogs.

artists love receiving compliments when you reblog!! commenting does NOT boost the post. most people put their compliments in the TAGS of their reblog, so that it doesn't become a long post/thread, and if people reblog the reblog of your reblog you won't keep gettings notifications about it. The artist will still see and very much appreciate it

read up on tumblr etiquette, do not treat this place like twitter or you'll be disliked lol. there are some 'big blogs' but follower counts aren't public, popularity isn't a contest here. make friends, or just block/ignore people you don't get along with. no one cares about your petty arguments

if you noticed the lil cat in my screenshots, that's from a very useful browser extension called XKit!! it enables 1-click queue reblogs (automatically adding your tags), mass-post editing, and lots of other great tweaks vanilla tumblr doesn't have! and the cat is a silly cute thing you can enable in it as well

#hermitblr #trafficblr #empiresblr #hermittwt #traffictwt #how to use tumblr #how to tag on tumblr #tumblr help #i didnt mean for this to be a whole tutorial thing but if it helps one person it's worth the hour i spent on this

[memorizingthedigitsofpi]

man "ship and let ship" kinda stops working when ppl are actively shipping minor and adult characters together like hello?? same with the "dont like dont read" mentality, some shit shouldn't be fetishised maybe??

You've got a lot going on in this ask, anon, and it's obviously not asked in good faith. If I were a smarter human being, I'd delete it and move on with my life, but it's 9am on a Saturday morning and I'm still on my first cup of coffee so I'm just dumb enough to take the bait and respond.

Ship and let ship doesn't mean you need to approve of what other people are shipping. It doesn't mean you need to like what other people are shipping. It means that what other people ship is their business and what I ship is my business.

If I don't like a ship, I don't read it. I don't search out the tag. I don't try to find creators for it. I don't watch youtube compilations or stare at gifs or read meta analysis about how the ship is supported by canon.

If I don't like a ship, I just... don't think about it. It really is that easy. And when I do think about it, I might be annoyed for a moment, but then I move on with my life because guess what? Shipping is a meaningless hobby that I engage in during my free time and I don't want to waste my free time feeling pissed off.

I've seen a lot of bizarre definitions of "minor/adult" shipping, but even if we use the definition of an adult sexually abusing a child, it's still very easy for me not to read that story on AO3. I'm assuming this is all about AO3? It always seems to be in this kind of ask.

AO3 requires people to use one of two warnings in those cases. Either Underage or Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings - or both. I use the filter system to remove works with those warnings from my search results and guess what? Those works might as well not exist for me because I've never seen one. And I've been on AO3 since about 2013.

The thing about these kinds of opinions is that they only ever come up in relation to shipping. I never see these opinions related to violence or drugs or swearing or whatever else you might find morally repugnant. But the handy thing about "don't like, don't read" is that it applies across the board.

I don't think I'm going to like the new Jurassic Park movie, so I'm not going to go to a movie theatre, spend $15, and sit in a dark room with strangers for two hours to watch it. I'm not going to read reviews of it. I'm not going to watch the trailer. If a friend of mine invites me to go see it, I'll pass. I won't stop my friend from going to see it, though. If they're going to enjoy it then they should - and they're not going to fetishize dinosaurs or paleontologists or the tourism industry when they do.

If you're not able to control your own reading habits, then you should probably be more careful on the internet. Use Net Nanny or other content filtering tools to make sure that you can avoid the content that you're unable to resist through willpower alone. But don't make your inability to stay away from things you don't like my problem. That's all on you.

[konigsblog]

Tbh I don’t like rape and the rapist Simon head cannon. so naturally I just ignore all your rape fics and dont follow rape tags. I can’t image chasing down content that triggers me, then shame people who don’t care.

this !! ^^ this is exactly what you should do. i don't mind being blocked, if anything, i'm glad people block me to prevent triggering themselves. it shows they're putting in an effort to manage their triggers. but just because you have me blocked, doesn't give you the opportunity to shit about me, because trust me, i'll find out 😫 it's simple: block, move on. don't go talking shit about writers and putting them on blast because of a different kink/coping mechanism.

the best thing to do if you find dark fiction triggering or unpleasant is to scroll, filter your tags, and/or block the person. at the end of the day, it's your duty to manage your triggers, not mine.

i appreciate you sending this message! i'm glad people actually listen to my advice (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) 💌🌷 — genuinely, what's the point in seeking out triggering content, only to shame the writer despite them tagging it appropriately? there's nothing else i can do aside from use appropriate tags and give warnings out. i will never take responsibility for other people's triggers, it's not my job.

[chaifootsteps]

re: convos about hazbin hotel's rating and kids being in the fandom.

i looked into what Amazon's Hazbin Hotel is rated and the confusing matter of the 16+ to 18+ rating. basically it's not uncommon for the (imo, broken) rating system to tag darker episodes with a higher rating than others, the intent is to let you know what the current episode will get into, but the fault is that it risks initially giving the impression the series is for a younger audience than it is.

& it *seems* the UI for the series page on Amazon defaults to the highest rated episode--bc it *was* 16+ before all episodes released, then bumped up to 18+ once episode 4 was there.

here's the rating on episode 4, which if it's the same as every other Prime episode i've watched, would've been briefly in the upper left corner in small text before fading away, easy to miss and lacks what would be more fitting verbage (i.e. sexual violence.)

and, here is what Hazbin Hotel's *official* certified ratings are, according to IMDb:

in relation to a shocking amount of kids being in the fandom, i tried to look into whether or not the Hazbin Hotel Pilot episode and/or Addict were age-restricted. y'know, bc everyone keeps saying it's an "adult show for adults." (which it is but ykwim.)

and it seems like there weren't/aren't. i checked in a logged-out browser if i'd get any sort of "this video is age restricted" or "sign-in to confirm age" YouTube filters. i didn't. i also tried playing them in Discord (bc usually if a YouTube video is age-restricted it'll stop you and make you view it on YouTube where it can confirm your age) both the pilot and Addict played without a problem.

(if someone else tries and finds they *did* hit an age-restriction block feel free to let us know.)

in addition, it seems a few redditors were discussing this very thing back when it came out, so they were either mistaken or it never had an actual age-restriction on it.

and the pilot's warning isn't even at the top or in caps or anything, it's a very casual "be warned this is aimed at older audiences hehe there are bad words and innuendos" line in the middle. not even "for" older audiences. "aimed" at them.

and as we know Addict has a proper warning at the start of the video that is as follows:

but, again, i was able to access Addict easily in a logged-out YouTube window which seems to indicate it had no age-restrictions on it.

i checked YouTube Kids itself and the good news is neither the pilot nor Addict show up in the search. the bad news is YouTube's content moderating is still lax enough that any dumbass can try and content-farm kids with whatever is recently popular, so a small handful of Hazbin-related videos like piano tutorials and silly crafts of the characters can be uploaded and labeled as "for kids" by those people. bc it's "just an innocent piano tutorial!" "just an innocent craft!"

but of course most of the "kids" we see in the fandom getting yelled at are generally 13-16 and up, just including the above for full context.

all-in-all i'm not trying to say that not age-restricting the pilot or Addict is some predatory action taken by viv, but to me it was/is a very poor ignorant or oblivious decision.

yes kids will always seek out content that isn't for them, but imo that's *why* the bear minimum is age-restricting and making it *clear* it's not for kids. it's for your own protection too.

if you put all the barriers up and kids still jump over them people can easily see it wasn't your fault. same goes for when construction sites or dangerous hills have warnings so they're not at fault if someone ignores the warnings and gets hurt.

but if those construction sites, hills, or videos made "for adults" don't have those warnings loud and clear, you're gonna get faulted, and you're gonna get kids running around even *more* confident that they belong there bc they were barely warned that they don't.

Thank you for laying it all out like this. This illustrates exactly what the problem is.

#rockanroller #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

[olderthannetfic]

Open Doors volunteer here, and I just wanted to point out how useful and important the Chose Not To Warn warning is when you're uploading other people's works.

If a 100k word fic carries a warning for "murder" on the original forum or mailing list it was posted to, I have two options: 1.) read the entire thing (which could take days, and I have hundreds of other fics I need to compile metadata for) and use my own judgement, as someone who has never even spoken with the author, for if it counts as the Major Character Death warning or not. 2.) slap Chose Not To Warn on it, preserve the author's warning in the summary, and get the fic up on AO3 so people can actually read it.

People who choose to read things that are tagged "Chose Not To Warn" know what they are doing. If an AO3 reader has very specific squicks or triggers surrounding an archive warning and they don't want to risk running into a spoiler or an edge case or situation where the person doing the uploading does not have the author's insight into and knowledge of the actual content, then they filter out Chose Not To Warn and everyone is happy.

--

Yeah, that too. And even people importing their own work don't always remember what's in it or have time to go through it. They may have written it decades ago.

[autistichalsin]

Okay, I’ve been a bit scared because I’ve been observing from the sidelines, but I do want you to know this isn’t a hateful or troll ask, I’m genuinely asking for clarification.

In my experience, “pro-shipping” has always meant ‘problematic shipping’, and all of the people I’ve talked to about this have said the same thing.

Am I the one who’s misconstrued? I really don’t get it.

Being called “pro-harassment” or “pro-censorship” is hurtful and confusing as all hell.

I don’t harass people for what they create. I don’t care to do that. I block and move on, and warn people if I know they could be upset by the content.

But I also don’t understand how certain things are justified.

I am personally not bothered by much, but I have watched friends and acquaintances go through visceral traumatic reactions because people have decided to air out their coping by sharing it with the public. (I.E, people who write romantic incestual fics, etc)

I don’t give a shit what people write. I really don’t. But it feels harmful to use the excuse of coping when you, in turn, could be hurting dozens of others.

Like I said, I genuinely am not trying to be hateful here. I’m confused, and still distraught that all of this is happening. I don’t think anyone deserves to be harassed. I just also don’t get the logic here.

Pro-shipping never once meant problematic shipping. It meant opposite of "anti" because antis would come and invade the tags and asks, calling them all kinds of names if they found their ships distasteful.

Sorry that being indirectly accused of supporting harassment hurt your feelings. Imagine how I felt, being DIRECTLY accused of supporting rape in real life because of my taste in fiction. You are throwing in your lot with people who can't distinguish fantasy and reality.

I don't like incest fics either, anon. They are triggering for me. So you know what I do? I don't read fics tagged as incest. For that reason, I have never been triggered by an incest fic. I suppose I would be if I read an incest fic that wasn't tagged as much, but you will never find a single pro-shipper who defends posting such content without a tag. You are responsible for your own experience online; it is your job to curate the content.

If it was just seeing that the fic exists that triggered the response, then I'm sorry to say they're still in the wrong. As a survivor, learning that triggers exist and how to navigate those triggers is on you. We are responsible for how we deal with our trauma. Your friends didn't deserve their traumas, and they deserve kindness and support, but requesting that people never be allowed to write distasteful fiction so that they don't have to be upset by the idea that someone somewhere shipped incest is not reasonable. Their feelings are valid; it's totally reasonable to be triggered, to strictly curate your online experience. It's reasonable to block everyone who ships the upsetting incest ships, to put an "incest shippers DNI" on your page, all of it. It's not reasonable to call them supporters of IRL incest or to accuse them of causing your trauma. It isn't hard at all on AO3 or Tumblr; they even give you the option to blacklist/filter out certain tags so you can avoid it without blocking users. There's easily half a dozen safeguards that already exist that are a lot less radical, a lot less likely to be weaponized against queer users, and a lot easier to enforce than trying to remove them.

Me writing fics, such as a character using kink to cope, can only harm a user who doesn't curate their feed (and who reads fics they know will trigger them, which I can only assume would then be a purposeful form of self-harm). Denying other survivors their coping mechanism, though, IS a direct form of harm. Stigmatizing recovery by saying that survivors are in any way akin to abusers for creating fiction is a direct form of harm.

It sounds to me like you've absorbed some very harmful and very narrow ideas of what recovery should and should not look like, and what is and isn't a good/valid survivor. You might want to reflect on why you're turning your attention to policing what survivors do to cope so much.

#proship #proshipper #discourse

[teaboot]

hello this is my first Tumblr and I am quite confusef Hel me!

Hello!

Tumblr in my experience is different from a lot of other social media platforms as there is no real goal or purpose or competition in posting. You can pretty much just say or do or add whatever and if people like your vibes the follow you, and if they don't, they don't.

If you like certain topics or Fandoms (groups of people who enjoy a particular show, book, media, etc.) you can search for it and click "follow" on blogs dedicated to those things.

Whenever they post something, you can see it on your dashboard (your "feed" or "homepage") and decide to comment (add pictures or words) reply (say something without sharing the post with your followers) or reblog (share with your followers, so that anyone following you can see the post, with or without adding your own commentary.)

Beyond technical stuff, there are some cultural things you may want to know about.

If something you reblog has potentially upsetting content- violence, traumatic topics, nudity- its considered an act of courtesy to "tag" it. This is so your followers who specifically do not want to see those topics can use filters to make those posts invisible. This is handy for people with phobias, PTSD, or photosensitive epilepsy, but also for people who just don't like those things.

There are a lot of memes that will not make sense. That is because posts don't vanish when they get old, so anything that becomes a "meme" often gets referenced over and over again for years, sometimes actual decades. Posts like "do you like the color of the sky?", "Horse Plinko", "loss.jpeg", etc. are examples of this.

There is no algorithm that decides what you might like and shows you those things. You are in control of your own experience. If you see a lot of posts from people you don't like about things you don't want to see, you can block them and never see them again. They won't see you, either. It's like making friends- you can choose to follow whoever makes you happy and avoid whoever doesn't.

There is a bot problem. Bots are automated spam designed to look like other users. This is often "cute single women" type stuff, but can also be anonymous or generic fake blogs that send out a thousand identical messages that accuse you or others of wrongdoing, or just send out basic insults. They will never see your reply. They only exist to cause chaos. You can report and block them and are encouraged to do so.

There is a difference between "liking" and "reblogging". If you "like" something, it is added to an invisible list so you can go back and find it later. If you "reblog" something, your followers can see it too. Artists prefer reblogs over likes, because they put a lot of work into their art (or writing) and the only way they can reach a large audience is if lots of people share it. Artists who are trying to get commissions or develop a career depend on reblogs to continue making art.

Sometimes an update or change happens that alters the website without any warning and everyone whines about it and adapts. This happens every few months. It's kind of dumb and sometimes makes it worse but if you Google "tumblr 2012" you will see that it's actually been a slow march of improvement.

Something weird will happen on April fool's day. Sometimes this will affect the website layout.

You will not get many followers unless you engage with other users. This is a cafeteria and if you wanna eat alone you can.

If any of your posts go viral you will see it forever until you die and if it's about Beans you will live out the rest of your days getting messages like "Are you Bean Guy" so tread lightly

You will need to choose an icon and change the appearance of your blog or people will think you are a bot. (Side effect of the bot problem.)

I have no idea if you are a bot or spam message this reply is an act of faith

Good luck!

#Long post

[brightwanderer]

Today’s PSA for people new to tumblr: have a good poke in the “filtering” section of your General Settings!

This section allows you to block not only specific tags…

… but also words and phrases in tags AND post content (which is helpful for when people don’t tag their posts or use tag variations):

Obviously this is good for trigger warnings, but on a lower-stakes level: tumblr tagging culture usually drills down from a general topic to a specific one using multiple tags. This gives you way more control over avoiding things you don’t want to see.

So let’s say, for example, that you’re in a fandom, and you like to browse the fandom tag for art - but you really really don’t like a particular ship. Good news! There’s a pretty good chance it will be tagged not just “Fandom Tag” but also “Ship Tag”. Block that, and you can scroll “Fandom Tag” in peace.

One of the reasons I never really got into fandom activities on Twitter was because people had to fit their tags into their post limit, and so tended to use only the “top level” ones. The system here is FAR from perfect, but I find it way easier to curate my experience.

This is why tagging is a good thing to do on your posts and reblogs if you can. This is also why it is a BAD idea to censor words - especially if they’re intended as trigger warnings. If I set my content filtering to hide anything containing the word “pear”, for example, it doesn’t matter if people use the tag “pear” or “tw: pear” or “cw: pear”, they will all be blocked. If, on the other hand, they use “p*re” or “p34r” it’ll get past my filter.

#tumblr #meta #tagging #tumblr options #welcome to tumblr #also you can block anything for any reason #I block things I hate #but also things I love and don’t want spoilers for #and things I’m just a bit bored of #and chocolate guy

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

I don’t know why I’m here but you gotta know about it. TW mentions of child abuse

There is an actual dead dove poster in the Spider tags now 💀 posting creepy shit and doing it openly on a platform with a shit ton of minors. I saw only one before filtering the tag out but it was a Spider x Quaritch post where they discussed how people "sleep on their dynamic" and "imagine the Stockholm syndrome"

I sent them an ask and said that they should perhaps keep that to themselves or at least out of the general tags bc surprise surprise! Users don’t want relive their past trauma while scrolling through fucking tumblr and hey legit laughed and mocked me in their response. The worst part is it’s an actual 33 year old and despite the fact that they’re apparently ace I just can’t understand what fucked up morbid curiosity can drive a person to become, and I quote, a “dead dove connoisseur” and enjoy reading about sexual child abuse? Make it make sense.

It’s not even a preference thing. It’s basic human decency. What part of “don’t post about how you love fictional child abuse when there are kids looking through the tags and some people can get triggered by it” is so hard to understand? Anyway, this is just a heads up that you might see their post one day, so now you know.

Don't be shy anon drop the @.

You are absolutely right, a preference for writing about child abuse/incest is super not okay, and it's always in young fandoms and around characters like Quaritch. Despite there being whatever proper tags people think are there, I really don't think that content needs to exist. People STILL don't know what they are getting into. Case in point: I know we all stalk the Avatar a03 and we all unfortunately saw the newest gross Quaritch/Spider fic posted. Well, I clicked on that shit, because my dumb ass thought maybe it would be comfort focused enough we could skip around that bc Quaritch was already dead in the fic. When I tell you I have been so uncomfy for the last twelve hours, I cannot scrub that shit from my brain. I wish it had never been written! I wish I was dead! There are very few things that can still make me feel genuinely bad on the internet, and that managed it. I feel icky.

Anyways this just became about me resenting my decisions, I will definitely be reporting anything I see like that and I hope my followers do the same. Thank you for warning us. Tumblr is not always the safest place for minors, but hopefully we can make sure this community is.

#that was actually my first ever click on a dead dove do not eat i'm pretty sure #never again! #there were literally all the red flags in the universe and i still thought maybe it wouldn't be that bad i don't even know #ughghhg #i was like it CANT be that bad people can't ACTUALLY read this it has to be like about recovering from this kind of thing #nah #listen its dead dove do not eat for a reason i'm just stupid and didn't believe people were that awful i guess #miles quaritch #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron)

[thebibliosphere]

I’ve never heard of Dark Romance. Is it like, 50 shades vibes? (In the abusive way, not the kinky way of course) I’m tempted to instinctively label the genre as damaging and I’m not even sure what it is outside the context of your earlier post saying they should be better about trigger warnings.

I mean, yeah I guess 50 Shades broke far enough out of its erotica cage to be classified as Dark Romance.

And I don't think it's fair to deem an entire sub-genre "damaging" when a lot of the time, it's just people wanting to explore things through the safety of fiction. It's a form of thrill-seeking, like going on a rollercoaster or visiting a haunted house.

Not all of it is to my taste (I'm picky about my content.) but I don't think anyone reading Dark Romance actually wants to be kidnapped by the rich fairy mafia prince from the magical land of "Servants-Do-the-Laundry," and turned into his sex slave.

(I mean, you might. That laundry part is pretty tempting.)

But for some people, the idea of being removed from your daily humdrum existence and having your physical desires not only met but expanded upon in a way you can't be blamed for has a fantastical appeal that can be not only titillating but emotionally freeing.

Now that kind of content isn't going to appeal to everyone, and I know some people get really mad about their romances taking dark twists and turns before getting to the sometimes questionably happy ending. But this is why I'd love for publishing to allow for content tagging and potential trigger warnings so that people can filter for the kind of content they want. Movies, tv shows, and video games are tagged with warnings--why can't we do it for books?

As it is, authors can and are punished by distributors like Amazon for alluding to any sort of explicit content, which is harmful to everyone.

Those of us who do tag for heat ratings and content tags, regardless of whether we write Dark Romance or not (I don't) have to do it stealthily on our websites, usually, after Amazon has approved the files or we might not get approved by the censors.

Now, there are some Dark Romance authors who refuse to tag for content and will say things like "it spoils the story" or "if you're reading Dark Romance you should just expect things to be fucked up."

That is their opinion, and they are entitled to be wrong about it.

As someone who does tag for content and prioritizes readers' ability to decide whether my work is within their comfort level, I can honestly say I've never had someone complain that tagging for content has spoiled the story for them. I have in fact experienced the opposite, as well as people telling me that they saw some tags and went "hell yes!" and jumped in both feet first.

So, yeah, rambly topic is rambly.

I don't think Dark Romance is inherently harmful. What I do think is that authors trying to hide that something is Dark Romance, whether by using a really fluffy blurb or cutesy cover design because they want more sales is disingenuous and shitty. Those people can fuck off.

#long post #genre writing

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Fifteen

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Alcohol use, smut (18+)

Sexual Content: Semi-public sex, fingering, cum eating <3, some weird sweat-related stuff idk i was super horny i hope you guys get it

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow

Playlist | Masterlist

When the morning sun filtered in through your window, you were awoken to immediate thoughts of Sam. Per usual, at this point. You took the morning slow, reminiscing on your dream as you made yourself a coffee. It was one you’d had before, of yourself braiding his hair and putting wild flowers in it, but this time it felt different. There was something so sweet and special about how, if you wanted to, you could do that exact thing right now. You pulled out your phone, greeted by a good morning! he'd already sent you an hour earlier.

morning :) you replied.

me and the guys are playing at a bar downtown next week, wanna go?

You didn’t even need to think twice about it.

i’d love to!!

groovy

That feeling washed over you again, the kind where you wanted to scream and kick your feet. And you actually did this time, burying your face in your pillow and letting out an excited wail. It was nearly embarrassing, how much of an effect he had on you. The way he could leave you a blushing mess even when he wasn’t anywhere near you.

Next week couldn’t come soon enough. Through the days between, you filled the time with idle work, trying to keep your hands busy and your mind occupied. On one of your nightly walks, you found yourself walking the route you’d been avoiding lately. The one past the old lot where you’d seen his car. It still stung a bit, but it was reduced to more of a dull ache than anything.

When the day finally came, you found yourself nervous in a strange way. It was a feeling you’d had before, though you couldn’t quite find the words for it. It was something like being a kid again, having a crush and no longer needing to hide it. You began the short walk over to the bar to meet him before the show started, shielding your eyes against the snow that seemed to always be falling these days.

You walked hesitantly into the bar, looking around at the rather large crowd of people gathered there. It seemed to be a full house, though the building was small. You always felt awkward in scenarios like this, and you could never get yourself to feel wholly welcome. Bars were not a place you frequented, and the environment intimidated you a bit at times. Thankfully, Sam was there to greet you as you sidled up to the bar for a drink. He called out your name, squeezing in beside you to wrap an arm around your shoulders in something like a hug.

“So you actually showed!” He shouted over the commotion.

“Of course I did,” you replied sheepishly. “I told you I’d be here.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to imply you’re a flake. Just didn’t think this was really your scene.”

“It’s not.” You paid for your drink, taking a tentative sip. “I’ll need a few of these before I’ll be having any fun.”

“Well, you’d better suck ‘em down quick. I’ll be up there in a few.”

You took a comically large gulp, filling your cheeks with your drink, to which Sam let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t choke to death. I’ll see you after the show.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and wove his way through the crowd, disappearing through a hallway next to the bar.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible when they made their way onto the stage. It was interesting, seeing Sam in this mindset. He looked different, more focused, a thousand miles away yet rooted in the present. He held his bass a bit gingerly, not exactly the picture of confidence, a half-smile on his face and his eyes turned away when the patrons clapped and cheered.

When the music began, you were utterly captivated. The volume in the space was deafening, but you still strained to pick out every note Sam played. They sounded incredible together, like nothing else you’d heard before. It was a feeling you could not describe, like you’d been here a thousand times before in a thousand other lifetimes. Like your soul had waited for so long for this moment, where you stood watching Sam’s fingers fly across the strings, struck with the weight of the fact that he was yours. You had to force your body to dance along; your mind wanted you to stay rooted, motionless, watching.

Their set ended earlier than you’d expected, as the patrons started to filter out. Not a big enough crowd to warrant a longer show, it seemed. You waited patiently, sipping at whatever drink the bartender had concocted after clearly mishearing your request for a vodka cran, please. There was some commotion, and then a hand grabbed yours off of the bar.

It was Sam. He pulled at your wrist a bit, urging you to your feet. You dragged your gaze up from his shoes to his eyes, taking in every inch of him.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Something you want?”

You hadn't even noticed it yourself, but you were aching for him. Your fingers found their way to his shoulder, your nails scratching along his scalp as you ran a hand through his hair. Watching him had felt so intimate, that feeling of him being yours rushing over you in waves, sending jolts straight down your spine. You wondered if any of the other girls in the bar looked at him the way you did, if they dreamed of having him the way you had him. It drove you a bit crazy, in the best way, to ponder it.

"You," you replied. "I want you."

You barely had time to grab your coat as he was dragging you away, down a hallway it didn’t look like you were supposed to be in. He opened an unmarked door, threw you inside, and quickly locked it behind him. From the singular glimpse of it you managed to get before the room was enveloped in darkness, it was a bathroom.

“Sam–”

“Need you. Now. Can I?”

Just a few words and he already had you dripping, clenching around nothing for him. He had you pinned up against the back of the door, his hand still in yours, braced above your head.

“Yes, please, but–”

He didn’t even give you a chance to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours.

“Sammy, you gasped. “It’s dark, let me see you–”

Without pausing, you heard his hand fumble in the dark for the lights, flipping the switch to bathe the room in harsh fluorescent light. You put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back a bit, needing a moment of silence to take him in.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You look so good.”

“I was gonna say the same about you.”

He was coated with a sheen of sweat, little droplets having made lines along his cheeks and his neck. His skin was flushed, a thing you rarely saw. His fingers plunged beneath the hem of your pants, immediately drawing rough circles against your clit.

You let out a shocked yelp, to which he quickly covered your mouth. “Quiet.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled out, the sound muffled against his palm.

“Unless you want the whole bar to hear you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly in your ear. He was unforgiving, almost rough, as he sunk a finger into you. But You grabbed at his shoulders, fighting not to make a sound.

“How’s that feel?” He growled, burying his face in your neck and leaving gentle bites across your skin.

“Really– fuck, really good.”

He moved quick, much rougher than the last time, like he couldn’t wait. And you supposed the both of you really didn’t have time for being delicate. Any second, a fellow bar patron could come knocking at the door.

He had you worked up quickly, already teetering on the edge of an orgasm when he withdrew his hand. “Get these off,” he ordered, snapping the hem of your pants against your waist.

You complied, both of you a flurry of hands and fabric as he shoved his pants down just far enough to pull his cock out. It was just as stunning as the first time, you noticed, staring at him. Even in the midst of your hurried movements, you paused for a moment to drink him in.

But the moment passed, and he was lifting you by your waist onto the tiny countertop next to the sink. You hissed at the feeling of the cold plastic on your bare thighs, the rough edge digging into your sensitive skin. You barely felt it, though, the feeling soon replaced by the sensation of him dragging his cock over your folds.

“Ready?” He asked, barely waiting for an answer before he sunk the tip in.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the challenge of taking him in complete silence. You failed almost instantly, when he shoved himself against you, burying into you right to the base. This angle was different, deeper. A moan tore itself out of your chest, embarrassingly loud.

“Baby,” he laughed, just above a whisper. “Quiet.”

“Sorry,” you hissed, flinging your arms around his neck. You had to sink your teeth into his shoulder when he started up a rhythm, completely unable to contain the groans he was so skilled at pulling from you.

“Is that good?” He asked, his breathing picking up to the pace of quick panting in your ear. “Is that what my baby needed?”

My baby. “Exactly what I needed, yes, thank you, Sammy.” The words fell from your lips with no filter, you were focusing too hard on being quiet to put any energy into being demure.

He pulled away from you a bit and cradled the side of your face with his palm, running his thumb over your lips. Almost involuntarily, you sucked it into your mouth, raking your teeth over his skin.

He breathed out a fuck, his hips picking up a bit of speed, and replaced his thumb with two fingers. He ran his fingers over your teeth, and you had to fight like hell to keep a moan from rising out of your throat. His fingers tasted salty from sweat, and a bit metallic, from plucking away at his bass.

You watched the thin trail of saliva chase his fingers when he pulled them from your mouth. It was quick, and dirty, and rough. But there was still such love and care even behind the brutal snap of his hips, in the way he lifted the bottoms of your thighs a bit to make you a little more comfortable. And the way he rested his forehead against yours, so you could still hear every little sound that came from him.

What you were doing here, it was so wrong. You’d never been the type to do anything of the sort. But there was such a thrill behind it, the way you kept glancing at the door to make sure the lock was still latched, the way you both listened closely to pick out any sounds of discovery of your debauchery outside the door.

You were losing yourself in him, slowly losing your ability to be rational. You threw yourself at him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist and pulling him closer by his neck. His skin was still coated in a sheen of sweat, the scent of it driving you some kind of insane. You couldn’t stop yourself – your tongue darted out, licking against the side of his neck. It was filthy, but so unbearably intoxicating, and the taste of the salt on his skin was, to your own surprise, delicious.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling away a bit. “Don’t. I’m all sweaty.”

“I know.” You latched your teeth onto his neck, sucking at him until you were certain a bruise would be left there. “Tastes good.”

“Oh?” His hips faltered a bit, and from the way he was digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise, you knew he was getting close. “Didn’t know you were so filthy.”

“Me neither,” you giggled, each laugh making you squeeze around him a bit harder.

He dropped a hand between your bodies, making quick circles around your clit. You’d already been closer to your peak than you thought, the extra contact rushing you there at a speed that made it incredibly hard to stay quiet.

“You want it inside?” He asked, his voice a bit too loud.

You nodded against the crook of his neck, holding on to him for dear life, your still-healing hand throbbing in response to how hard you gripped at his shirt.

“You first,” he hissed, circling his fingers a bit quicker, positioned just right to leave you a gasping mess. It only took a moment before you were clamping down on him, biting into his shoulder to quiet the moans that rattled from your chest. It was like fire sweeping through you, a burning heat that radiated out from your core to the edges of your body. You shook, trembling in his arms with the force of it, and your attempts to stay silent.

You could feel him twitching in you, his movements slowing to quick, deep snaps of his hips that made you feel breathless. You felt impossibly full, your eyes fluttering closed as he let out small groans through gritted teeth. Everything slowed to a stop, the sounds of music and chatter outside the door beginning to register to your ears once again.

"Fuck,” he breathed against your ear. “That was good.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

He lifted you just slightly, slipping out of you, one of his hands darting under you to catch the combination of your mutual releases that trickled out of you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders a bit harder when he ran a hand through your folds, coating his fingers.

You barely had time to register what he was doing as two fingers slipped into your mouth. “Don’t we taste good, my love?” He tilted his head a bit, watching the way you greedily licked his fingers clean. Somehow, it tasted incredibly good to you. Through the slight bitterness, you could once again taste the metallic tang of his fingers.

“I need to get back out there.” He pulled back a bit, resting his forehead against yours. “They’re probably wondering where I went.”

The two of you hastily pulled yourselves together, gazing at your reflections in the mirror and trying to make yourselves look slightly less disheveled. You caught his eye in the mirror, admiring the slight grin stuck on his face. He was so utterly perfect.

You managed to slip out of the bathroom unnoticed, going about the rest of the night as if nothing had happened. Though the slick feeling between your thighs was a constant reminder of your debauchery. Drinks were shared, the boys and you sharing a toast to a performance well-done. As the patrons began to leave, so did you, giving Sam a discreet kiss as you said your goodbyes.

You didn't notice Jake’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you walked back to your dorm. And you certainly hadn’t noticed him running his gaze over you as you'd walked out of the bathroom, hand in hand with Sam earlier. If you’d have known, you would be mortified. Though the remainder of your night was filled with dreamless sleep and blissful ignorance.

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #inr #i never really #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka #greta van fleet sam #greta van fleet

[intersexfairy]

I know a lot of minors aren't taught internet safety, so here are some internet safety tips. I learned these growing up, and by not being safe as a minor. Please note some of these have exceptions if a trusted adult is involved.

First, throw away the idea of the internet as a safe place. It is not safe. It never was and never will be safe. There are far too many people and things running around on the internet for it to be safe for anyone - adults included. But we can modify how we use it to minimize risk - that's all "internet safety" is. So, that said:

Do not give or display personal information (especially not to people you don't know offline). Use an alias, even on email accounts. Don't tell people how old you are, or where you live. Don't post your face, or pictures of anyone or thing that could be used to identify you. Keep any account with personal information private, only viewable to people you know in person. Make sure a trusted adult or friend is aware of what you do online - someone who knows things in case anything happens.

If you need to break some of the above rules due to dangers you face in person, stay anonymous. Blur your face and other identifying info. Make throwaway accounts. Only share what's necessary to help you, and nothing more. Be careful about where you seek help. If possible, find an organization with online resources or a hotline.

Stay away from adult spaces and pay attention to content warnings. Filter tags and phrases (ex: minors dni, nsfw, [insert your trigger here]). TW/CW tag content you post, too. Don't follow NSFW accounts, and certainly don't make one - there is no exception. Any sexual expression is best kept between you and your friends, in a safe, offline place. And any adult who tells you it's okay to be in 18+ spaces as a minor does not care about your safety.

Also, ideally, follow age ratings on media - social media and apps included. I know, this one isn't fun. Even Tumblr is 17+. You can have some really positive experiences on apps like this, so I wont tell you to gtfo. But you can just as easily have some awful ones. If you ever feel unsafe or distressed on a platform, please know you have every right to leave. Nothing is more important than your safety and wellbeing.

Lastly, I'm upset to say this one, but please dont fucking harass people. If you don't like someone, block them. And if someone is harming someone else, report them and let others know to block them. Harassing people online can, genuinely, kill them. I saw it happen the other day. (I mean this in the least hostile way possible) If you can't understand why this is wrong - that your actions and views may not always be justified - it is not safe for you to be online. In tandem with this, don't engage with upsetting things. Delete your discourse blog. Trust me - it's better to spend your energy on things that are actually fun and positive.

In summary: Stay anonymous. Keep private information private. Curate your online experience. Stay out of 18+ spaces as a minor. Be careful with who you trust, and treat people how you want to be treated. And while you do all this? Have fun! Remember, the internet (probably) isn't going anywhere. If you need a break, take it. Be kind to yourself - and others. The more people do this, the safer we all can use the internet.

#ifairy #internet #internet safety #tumblr #tumblr meta #social media