To celebrate this milestone, I'm hosting a small writing event!₊˚⊹♡
10 Days of Requests﹏Your Wish, My Words
━━━━━━━━━━━୨ৎ━━━━━━━━━━━
🎀Event Duration: July 10 — July 29
💌 Request Deadline:July 30
━━━━━━━━━━━୨ৎ━━━━━━━━━━━
✿ Genres I Accept:
♡ Fluff♡ Romance♡ Angst♡ Emotional / Hurt-Comfort♡ Smut (18+ characters only. No underage characters or themes.)
━━━━━━━━━━━୨ৎ━━━━━━━━━━━
୨୧ Before You Send a Request♡ Please be respectful and patient.♡ I reserve the right to decline any request that makes me uncomfortable or that I don't feel confident writing.♡ If your request isn't accepted, please don't take it personally, it simply may not fit my writing style or comfort level(I'll inform you all).♡ Please keep all requests legal, respectful, and appropriate.
━━━━━━━━━━━୨ৎ━━━━━━━━━━━
💌 How to Request
Please include:
♡ Fandom♡ Character(s)♡ Genre♡ Your prompt or scenario♡ Any details you'd like me to include
━━━━━━━━━━━୨ৎ━━━━━━━━━━━
Every request is a little gift of inspiration, and I'm so excited to see what you all come up with.
I can't promise I'll be able to write every single one, but I'll do my best to create something special for as many as I can. Thank you again for 500 followers.
Here's to more stories, more chaos, more tears, more comfort, and many more moments together.
With lots of love,
— milli🎀🩷
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Taglist 🥂
@stella-dreamy @lndaaaaaaa @joongtime
｡°✩ Want to join the taglist? Send me an ask or a DM!
Seungcheol is in the middle of a game when you get home, but the moment he notices you, he pulls you onto his lap and keeps one arm around your waist but after a while u try and tease him by tickling his stomach but hes not ticklish he pulls ur arm away and then once the game ends he “deals” with you
request: open 👀
The apartment was dark except for the glow of the large monitor in the living room. You slipped off your shoes quietly, the faint click of the door barely audible over the rapid clicking of a keyboard and the low hum of Seungcheol’s voice as he called shots to his teammates. You smiled at the familiar scene.
He was deep in it headphones on, shoulders tense, one hand flying over the mouse while the other rested on the desk. But the second you stepped into the soft light of the room, his head snapped toward you.His eyes softened instantly.Without missing a beat in the game, he rolled his chair back just enough and reached for you with his free arm.
“C’mere,” he murmured, voice low and warm.
You barely had time to protest before he tugged you onto his lap, settling you sideways across his thighs. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, palm splayed over your hip like he needed to keep you anchored there. The warmth of his chest pressed against your side, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing even as he continued playing.
“Missed you,” he said softly against your hair, eyes still glued to the screen. His thumb traced lazy circles on your waist under your shirt.You hummed, relaxing into him. Being home after a long day and immediately wrapped up in Seungcheol like this was the best kind of comfort. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the game unfold in bright flashes of color and explosions.
For a while you stayed still, enjoying the way his body moved subtly beneath you with every reaction. But after ten minutes of him occasionally pressing quick kisses to your temple while still locked in, a mischievous idea sparked.
You let your fingers drift under the hem of his hoodie, brushing lightly over the firm planes of his stomach. Then you went for it tickling.
Nothing.
You tried harder, wiggling your fingers faster, searching for any weak spot. Seungcheol didn’t even flinch. Instead, a low chuckle rumbled through his chest.
“Not ticklish, baby,” he said, voice amused but still focused on the match. Before you could pull away, his free hand caught your wrist in a gentle but firm grip, pulling it away from his stomach and pinning it against your own thigh.
“Behave.”
You pouted, trying your other hand. He caught that one too, easily trapping both your wrists in one large hand while his other stayed on the mouse.
“Cheol—”
“Shh. Almost done,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the shift in his body now the way his hold on you tightened, possessive and promising.
The final team fight played out in a flurry of skill shots and calls. Seungcheol’s focus was razor sharp… until the victory screen flashed. The moment the word “WIN” appeared, he exhaled, tossed his headphones onto the desk, and spun the chair around with you still firmly in his lap.His dark eyes met yours, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“You really thought you could distract me and get away with it?”
You tried to look innocent.
“I was just being affectionate.”
“Tickling me during ranked is affectionate?”
He raised an eyebrow, still holding both your wrists. With one smooth motion he stood up, lifting you effortlessly with him. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you toward the bedroom.
“Cheol, wait—”
“Nope.”
He kicked the door shut behind you both and lowered you onto the bed, following right after. His body covered yours, warm and solid, caging you in.
“Game’s over. Now I get to deal with you.”
He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other sliding slowly up your side. His gaze was playful but heated, lips hovering just above yours.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Because now you’re not getting up until I’ve had my fill of teasing you back.”
His fingers danced along your ribs light, deliberate, and far more effective than yours had been. You squirmed and laughed, trying to twist away, but he just chuckled darkly and held you closer.
having younger sibling is soooooooooo bad ....and a elder sibling too ..I guess being a single child is best...but it's not up to us , because parents don't ask us if we want siblings or not and specially Indian parents
every day the urge to make a separate account just for my Seventeen added member fic (14th?? 15th?? probably 15th 😭) gets stronger. but it's SO much work and i don't even want just one… i want TWO because apparently i hate myself 💀. maybe one day when i lose all sense of self-preservation.
anyway tiny spoiler: the main ship is either gonna be CoupGyu or Jihan because i'm incapable of choosing and i love them both.
drop your thoughts what you guys think about it .... and yes I know many things are promised and are being delayed (if some of you don't know I promised to make a series of BTSVT as boyfriends and a series of Wonwoo x reader (from XYZ group) and trust me these will come too) but trust me seventeen added member is a fic idea which i wanted to do from long ago but I tried and it didn't ended up being good so I deleted it (I just posted about the characters) but I have improved so maybe I'll start again ;-)
As for my request, can you write a fluffy Seokjin x reader? Basically, the reader, Seokjin and Seokjin's family are celebrating with a nice dinner at a restaurant. Reader surprises Seokjin with a birthday cake she baked (with help from the family hehe) and a gaming console he's very interested in.
After dinner, everyone walks in a pre-Christmas winter market in Seoul, the couple spend time alone chatting and drinking mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Then, Seokjin tells her he has fallen in love with her again. After that, without the reader knowing, he tells the members he has the best day ever through phone call. Everyone is screaming, teasing Jin.
Love , cake , teasing with KIM SEOKJIN
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship, Domestic Romance Warnings: None , just tooth-rotting sweetness, family cuteness, and Seokjin being the world's biggest softie
🎧 “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift
The restaurant was warm and glowing, golden light spilling over white tablecloths and the soft chatter of Seokjin’s family. His mother kept refilling your plate before you could even ask, his father was telling the same embarrassing story about toddler Jin trying to marry the neighbor’s cat, and Seokjin himself sat beside you with his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, thumb brushing lazy circles against your shoulder.
It was his birthday, but he was the one spoiling everyone with jokes and endless dad-puns. You loved him like this relaxed, surrounded by the people who knew him before the spotlights and stadiums, cheeks pink from good food and laughter.
When the lights dimmed just a little and the waitstaff brought out the surprise, Seokjin’s eyes went wide.
The cake was slightly lopsided (your fault), but beautifully iced in soft blue and silver with tiny fondant stars and one very determined strawberry on top.
His family clapped and sang loudly off-key while you carried it carefully to the table, heart hammering. “You baked this?” he asked, voice soft with disbelief as you set it down. “With heavy supervision and moral support from your mom,” you admitted, laughing. “She wouldn’t let me burn the kitchen down.”
His mother beamed. “She did most of the decorating. Our girl has talent.” Seokjin looked at you like you’d hung the moon. He blew out the candles in one dramatic breath, then pulled you into a tight hug right there at the table, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love it,” he whispered against your hair. “I love you.”
But the real surprise came after dessert. You slid the neatly wrapped box across the table. When he tore the paper and saw the latest gaming console he’d been eyeing for months (the one that sold out instantly), his jaw actually dropped.“You—how did you—” .
He looked between you and his father, who was failing terribly at looking innocent. “You two conspired against me!” “Happy birthday, Jinnie,” you said, grinning.He kissed you properly this time, quick and sweet and full of gratitude, while his older brother fake gagged and his mother pretended not to wipe her eyes.
The winter market was pure magic.Twinkling lights draped over wooden stalls, the air smelled of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon, and soft snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky. Seokjin’s family wandered ahead, giving the two of you space.
You walked hand-in-hand, fingers laced inside his coat pocket for warmth.
At a little stall glowing with fairy lights, you both got steaming mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and rainbow marshmallows. Seokjin stole a marshmallow from your cup with a mischievous grin; you retaliated by dabbing whipped cream on his nose. He retaliated by kissing it off, making you laugh so hard you almost spilled your drink.
You found a quiet bench under a canopy of lights. The city hummed around you, but right then it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.Seokjin looked at you for a long moment, snow catching in his dark hair, cheeks flushed from the cold and the chocolate.
“I keep thinking I couldn’t possibly love you more,” he said quietly, voice warm like the drink in your hands. “And then days like today happen. You do things like bake a cake with my mom and hunt down that stupid console I mentioned once. And I fall in love with you all over again. Deeper every time.”
Your heart did a full somersault. You leaned into him, forehead against his shoulder.
“I fall in love with you every day too, Seokjin.” He wrapped both arms around you, mug set aside, and held you like he never wanted to let go.
Later that night, after everyone had said their goodbyes and you were back at the apartment changing into pajamas, Seokjin stepped out onto the balcony for “fresh air.” You didn’t think much of it until you heard the familiar chaos through the cracked door.
“Hyung, you sound way too happy. Did she propose or something?” Jungkook’s voice, teasing. “Better. She baked me a cake. With my mom. And got me the console the one that sold out in seven minutes. I’m telling you, I have the best girlfriend in the universe.”
There was a chorus of screams and groans.
“Jin-hyung is simping again!”
Hoseok yelled.
“Tell her we said thank you for keeping his big head fed,” Namjoon added, laughter in his voice. Yoongi’s deadpan drawl cut through, “If you start crying on the phone I’m hanging up.”
“I’m not crying!”
Seokjin protested, but his voice was suspiciously thick.
“I’m just… it was the best day. I’m so lucky. She makes every day feel like this.”
More screaming. Taehyung started singing an off-key ballad about “Jinnie and his domestic bliss.”
Jimin demanded photos of the cake. Jungkook asked if he could come over tomorrow to play the new console. You stood in the doorway smiling like an idiot, heart so full it hurt. When Seokjin finally ended the call and turned around, he found you waiting with open arms. He walked straight into them, hiding his flushed face in your neck.
“You heard all that, didn’t you?”
“Every word, birthday boy.”
He groaned, but his arms tightened around you.
“Good. Because it’s true. Best day ever.”
You kissed the top of his head, breathing in his warmth against the winter chill still clinging to his sweater.
“Many more to come, Kim Seokjin. I’m not done falling in love with you either.”
fun idea!! either of the groups u write (whichever u like better!!) with an s/o like Nikki from that new movie “obsession”. because that’s not even like a silly “hehe ilysm” that’s like…they’re attached to you and doesn’t know what to do with themselves when ur not there
Warnings:Heavy angst, emotional abuse, codependency, obsessive behavior, intense arguments, graphic depictions of mental deterioration, self-harm, suicide (detailed emotional aftermath), depression, toxic relationship dynamics. Reader discretion is strongly advised. This is a work of fiction exploring unhealthy attachment; it is not romanticizing these issues.
🎧s : "Liability" by Lorde, "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus , "Hurt" by Johnny Cash , "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron
The apartment smelled like stale takeout and her perfume cloying vanilla that clung to everything, even his clothes after he’d left hours ago.
Jungkook stood in the doorway, keys still in hand, his shoulders heavy from another grueling rehearsal. The lights were dimmed low, just how she liked it when she waited for him. And she was waiting. Always waiting.
She sat on the edge of the couch, knees drawn to her chest, eyes wide and unblinking as they fixed on him. Her hair was messy, like she’d run her fingers through it a thousand times. The moment he stepped inside, she was on her feet, crossing the room in hurried steps that bordered on frantic.
“Jungkook-ah,” she breathed, voice cracking with relief as her arms wrapped around his waist, face burying into his chest. Her grip was too tight, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie like she was afraid he’d vanish.
“You’re late. You said you’d be back by nine. I called you six times. Why didn’t you pick up? I thought something happened. I thought you left me.”
He sighed, patting her back awkwardly.
“Baby, I was in the studio. Phone was on silent. I told you this morning.”
“You always say that,” she whispered, not letting go.
Her body trembled against his.
“What if you forget about me? What if one day you don’t come back?”
This was their normal now. But tonight, the exhaustion cracked something in him.
The fight started small, like they always did.
“You’re smothering me,” Jungkook muttered as he tried to peel her arms off so he could take off his shoes.
“I love you, but I need space sometimes. Just… breathe.”
She recoiled like he’d slapped her. Her eyes filled with tears instantly, that glassy, shattered look that used to break his heart but now exhausted him.
“Space? You want space from me? After everything? I gave up my friends, my plans, my life for you, Jungkook. I sit here every day waiting because without you, I don’t know who I am anymore.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling.
“That’s the problem! You don’t know who you are without me. This isn’t healthy. You text me every hour, show up at the company sometimes unannounced, cry if I hang out with the guys for one night. I can’t live like this.”
Her breathing hitched, turning into short, panicked gasps.
“You don’t love me anymore, do you? That’s what this is. You’re tired of me. Just say it.”
“Stop putting words in my mouth!” His voice rose, sharper than he intended. The argument escalated quickly voices overlapping, accusations flying. She screamed about how he changed her, how he made her this way. He yelled back about boundaries, about feeling trapped in her neediness.It got ugly. She threw a pillow, then a glass that shattered against the wall.
Jungkook dodged, heart pounding.
“When did you become like this?”
he shouted, the words ripping out of him raw and desperate.
“You weren’t like this when we met. God, what happened to you?”
The room went silent except for her ragged breathing. Her face crumpled, but something darker flickered behind the tears.
Flashback
They met two years ago at a small café near the HYBE building. Jungkook was exhausted from promotions, hiding under a cap and mask, nursing an iced Americano. She was there alone, sketching in a notebook, earbuds in.
When she accidentally bumped into him while getting a refill, her coffee spilled on his sleeve.Instead of freaking out, she laughed a bright, genuine sound that cut through his fatigue.
“I’m so sorry! Here, let me buy you another one. Or a new shirt if it’s ruined.”
He pulled down his mask, expecting recognition, but she just tilted her head.
“You look familiar… Wait, aren’t you that guy from BTS? Jungkook, right? Cool. I like your music, but I’m more of a indie rock fan myself.”
No screaming, no photos. Just easy conversation. She was vibrant, independent worked as a freelance illustrator, had a circle of artsy friends, traveled alone sometimes.
Her eyes sparkled with quiet confidence. They exchanged numbers as friends first. Dates followed slowly. She respected his schedule, sent memes instead of constant check-ins, teased him about his bunny smile. When they made it official, she whispered against his lips, “I like you because you’re you, not the idol. Don’t ever feel like you have to perform for me.”
Jungkook fell hard. She was his escape the one person who saw the man behind the stage lights. Lazy nights watching anime, her head on his chest, talking about dreams. She pushed him to rest, cooked simple meals, and gave him space when he needed to create.
But cracks appeared after a few months.
A scandal rumor about him and a female staffer (completely false) sent her spiraling the first time. She called crying, asking if it was true, if he still wanted her. He reassured her for hours. Then it worsened. She started canceling plans with friends to be available for him. “They don’t get it like you do,” she’d say.
Her sketches became mostly portraits of him. She’d wait outside the dorm or studio, eyes lighting up like he was oxygen.Jungkook noticed but dismissed it as love.
“She’s just passionate,” he told himself.
When she said, “I don’t feel right when you’re not here,” he held her tighter, whispering promises. The change was gradual, insidious. She stopped drawing for herself. Her phone background was always him. She’d panic if he didn’t reply within minutes.
“I feel empty,” she confessed one night, clinging to him after he returned from a trip.
“Like I only exist when you’re looking at me.”
He tried talking about it. Therapy suggestions. Space. But every attempt made her more desperate, more attached.
The girl who once teased him became the shadow who mirrored his every move, terrified of abandonment.
Back to Present
The words hung in the air, “When did you become like this?”
She laughed bitterly, tears streaming.
“You did this to me, Jungkook. You made me love you so much that there’s nothing left of me. Every time you smiled at me, every promise, every night you held me… I stopped being her. The girl you fell for died because she wasn’t enough. Now I’m just this. Yours. Completely.”
He stepped closer, regret flooding him.
“I never wanted this. I loved you the real you. Independent, funny, free. We can fix this. Please, let’s get help.”
But she was shaking her head, backing away. The fight reignited, uglier. She accused him of cheating with every female idol, of using her as a convenience. He defended himself, voice hoarse, pointing out how she tracked his location, how she’d deleted messages from his friends.
“You’re destroying us!”
he yelled.
“No, you destroyed me first!”
She grabbed a shard from the broken glass on the floor, holding it to her wrist. Her eyes were wild, that obsessive glint mixed with profound despair , like possession fracturing under reality.
“If I can’t have you, if you don’t want this version of me… then what’s the point? I can’t go back. I don’t know how.”
Jungkook froze, horror dawning.
“Put it down. Baby, please. I love you. We’ll work through it. Don’t—”
But the pain was too deep. In that moment, her attachment consumed everything. She couldn’t envision a world where he left, where she had to face the emptiness she’d built around him. The real her had been eroded by the obsession she couldn’t control anymore.
She slashed.
Once.
Twice.
Deep.
Blood flowed fast.
Jungkook lunged, screaming her name, trying to stop the bleeding with his hoodie, dialing emergency services with shaking hands. Her eyes met his as she faded—whispering, “I’m sorry… I just wanted to be enough for you. Don’t forget me.”
The ambulance came.
Too late.
Jungkook sat in the hospital hallway, blood on his hands her blood staring at the white walls. The doctors said the words, but they didn’t register.
She was gone. His vibrant, independent girl had transformed into someone so consumed by love for him that she couldn’t survive without it. And he blamed himself.
Days blurred. He canceled schedules. The members hovered, worried, but he barely spoke. At night, he replayed memories , her laugh at the café, the way she’d poke his cheek ,the early days when love felt light.
Now the apartment was silent. Her sketches hundreds of him stared back. Her perfume lingered. He’d find strands of her hair on the pillow, and the emptiness hit like a wrecking ball.
“I loved you,” he whispered to the void one night, curled on the floor where she fell.
“So much. I should’ve fought harder to save the you before the obsession. Before I asked when you became like this… I should’ve seen it happening.”
Depression wrapped around him like chains. He performed on autopilot, smile empty. Fans noticed the light gone from his eyes.
In interviews, he’d trail off, thinking of her final whisper.
He visited her grave often, leaving sketches he tried to draw of her the real her.
“Come back,” he’d murmur, though he knew it was impossible. The love that once saved him now haunted him.
He didn’t know how to exist in a world where her attachment had ended in such finality.
Some nights, he’d clutch one of her hoodies, inhaling the fading vanilla, and cry until dawn. The man who had the world at his feet was broken by the girl who only wanted him.
In the end, obsession didn’t just take her. It took pieces of him too the parts that believed love could be whole without consuming everything.
gonna dooo something crazy with my profile 😭😭😭😭 don't worry the username won't change (i cant deal with the stress again) ... If you guys ask why I wasn't satisfied by my blog aesthetic so changing it (don't keep high hopes)
𓂃Some things are meant to be felt, not explained 𓂃
hi. i’m milli, i write when my brain won’t shut up and my heart feels too full.♡
18+ | (05 baby) | Pisces ♓ | infj | she/her | indian | military wife
✦ music corner ✦
🎧 spotify — endrilistens (for the ones who feel everything through sound)
Shortcut to my stories.
Taglist. Fill the form to be the first one to know about my posts
👹 My AO3: Tumblr couldn't contain my chaos, so I made it everyone else's problem.
✧ requests: OPEN (slow replies, i’m human)Please read the guidelines before sending
✧ reblogs & comments mean everything
✧ please don’t repost my work elsewhere
this blog is for:
— SEVENTEEN IMAGINES
seventeen: ot13 💎
weak for big boys: wonwoo, mingyu, scoups🖤
— BTS IMAGINES
bts: ot7 💜proudly devoted to the hyung line loyalty runs deep 🫶
and yes..........CHRIS EVANS my lovely husband , i see you 🛡️💭
female reader by default (but you can request otherwise, i don’t bite… much)
𓂃 this space holds fragments of:
fluff, like soft morning light ☁️
angst, like rain on glass 🖤
emotional decay & healing 🫀
smut, written with intention 🔥 *(18+ only)
i don’t promise perfection.
i do promise comfort, warmth, and honesty.
✦ boundaries & rules ✦
no reposting or translating my work anywhere
no AI scraping or training on my writing
requests are welcome, entitlement is not
please don’t rush updates this is not fast food
constructive feedback = okay
disrespect = instant no
let’s keep this space cozy, respectful, and safe for everyone 🤍
this is a comfort blog first, everything else second.
if something resonates with you, hold it gently.
if it doesn’t, that’s okay too.
𓆩𓆪𓂃 signature #houseofmilli ✍🏻✨
if you read all this congrats, we’re kind of friends now. no take backs!
