#[ So again a very happy New Year to all of you! ]

[hannieehaee]

LO$ER=LO♡ER

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 14k

a/n: this was my fave concept to write so far honestly hehe

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

"Hey, Jihoon, do you think you could help me with this?", you asked him on Monday.

After spending all weekend thinking about you, Monday finally came. He was unsure as to whether or not your friendly behavior would continue onto your second week, when you were more settled in. In the usual cold and reserved fashion he'd adopted for the past decade, he avoided you most of the morning. When he saw you in the elevator upon arriving at the office, he stalled, waiting for the door to close so he wouldn't have to share the ride with you. He hadn't wanted to avoid you so blatantly, but apparently his past trauma had taken control of his body at the time.

If you noticed, he hadn't realized. He hoped you hadn't.

And now, a few hours into the day, you were asking for his help, and even his anxieties couldn't prevent him from helping you. He wanted to be good to you. At the moment, it was what he wanted most. He was unsure as to why.

He got up, hands fidgeting together as he took the few steps over to your desk, awkwardly standing next to your seat as you turned towards the computer on screen. Taking a few steps closer, he cleared his throat, standing right behind you and leaning down in order to check out whatever was on screen before you began to explain.

"So sorry to bother you, Jihoon! I, uh, I was just wondering what I should do when I get this pop-up? I tried looking over the manual, but I couldn't find anything," you pointed over at the screen, eyes still on it, "It's just-"

Jihoon invertedly leaned closer, eyes also on the screen. As soon as he looked at what was on display, he locked in, fully focused on the issue at hand.

Surprisingly even to himself, Jihoon enjoyed his job. He was amazing at it, and getting to help you out was just a bonus.

"Oh, yeah. It's a glitch. It happens sometimes. Here, let me just ..."

Without thinking, he interrupted you, hands taking over your mouse and keyboard as he leaned impossibly closer without realizing it. His head was right next to yours, but since he was too focused on the task at hand, he did not have the realization to be flustered at the proximity. And then he fucked up even further.

Continuing to help you, he began rambling out explanations about what he was currently doing on screen. He rambled on and on, showing you step by step how to handle the issue and adding on extra details the average person would not concern themselves with. He was so into it, he didn't realize he went on for a good five minutes, all while you sat next to him, staring quietly at the screen as you watched his every move.

That was until he was abruptly interrupted.

"Jesus Christ, Jihoon, you're going to make the girl never want to ask for help again," Doyle's voice suddenly rang through, a mocking yet patronizing tone wrapped around every word.

Jihoon's movements halted when he heard a few giggles from other coworkers resounding at Doyle's statement. Slowly, he backed his hands away from the mouse, barely registering how close he was to you when his face turned to your own, finding you looking at him with a worried look on your face — he couldn't decipher what it meant, but he was too embarrassed to even think of it.

He jumped back at the proximity, mumbling out an apology with a bow of his head.

"S-sorry, I-"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine, Jihoon, we all know you get a little over excited sometimes," Doyle leaned over the other side of the desk, "Don't mind him, Y/N. You'll learn to tune out his rambling at some point, we've all had to — that, or you'll go crazy."

Doyle turned around after that, throwing a wink over at you that, for some reason, made Jihoon wince.

Yeah, okay. He was a fucking loser, he was well aware. The reminder felt like overkill at this point in his life.

Like a dog with his tails between his legs, Jihoon looked down, giving you one last pathetic 'sorry' before turning away. Not even chancing a single glance your way after Doyle's interruption, he preferred to save himself further embarrassment and left the room altogether. He had done most of his work and lunch was close. Taking an early lunch seemed like the best idea.

Hastily, he grabbed the lunch bag under his desk and walked towards the exit, ears barely registering a faint 'Jihoon' coming from the direction he had just left.

~

Today, he'd chosen to leave the office for lunch.

Well, not really. He'd just stepped outside, finding some empty bench in front of the building to sit at. It wasn't like he could eat at his desk as per usual when everyone else was still there. He just couldn't stay there after being shut down like that in front of you.

All things considered, it hadn't been the most embarrassing thing to happen to him, but it still left him feeling like an absolute loser.

The worst of it all had been that you'd seen it all and hadn't even reacted.

It's not like he had expected you to stand up for him. Hell, you barely knew him. Maybe it was just easiest to engage with the majority; to laugh along when Doyle made a joke, joining in on the muted laughter of all his other coworkers any time Jihoon was used as the butt of some joke.

Except that you didn't laugh. Jihoon didn't even register your reaction before leaving, instead reacting in the same fashion as a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Fuck, you probably thought he was a fucking baby on top of already thinking of him as some defenseless loser. Jihoon wanted to blame it all on Doyle, but it was also his fault.

"Jihoon?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden voice, startling him into squeezing his hands around the unbitten sandwich he'd been holding this whole time.

Turning to the voice, he found you standing there, paper bag in hand as you hesitated walking closer.

When he turned to you, mouth agape in surprise at your sudden appearance, you took a few steps forward, likely taking his silence as an okay. Like a fish out of water, he opened and closed his eyes a few times, unknowing of what to say. He really hadn't expected you to follow him out.

Dropping his sandwich, he cursed at himself. He attempted to catch it, but his hand to eye coordination had never been the best, so it just resulted in him fumbling his hands like an idiot before his sandwich met its demise on the dirty floor.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard," you apologized, rushing to the floor in front of him, squatting in front of him as you picked up his fallen lunch.

"I-It's fine, I-"

"No, Jihoon, I've already ruined your day enough, fuck. And now your lunch is ruined," you sounded genuinely disappointed, "Here, we can share my lunch! I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

You remained kneeling in front of him as he sat on the bench. Jihoon cringed at knowing your skirt would get dirty at its contact with the floor but you didn't seem to care. Instead, you looked up at him with worry towards him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your bottom lip stuck out a bit in a small pout. It was both adorable and nerve-wracking.

"Please get up, you'll get your skirt dirty," was all he found himself saying.

Jihoon caught you chuckling under your breath before getting up, dusting your skirt and then taking a seat next to him. The distance you allowed between the two of you was too small for Jihoon's well-being, but a part of him deep down was happy about him.

You looked down at your lap for a bit, so did Jihoon. The two of you were quiet for a few seconds, but Jihoon was unsure why. You appeared to be bashful, perhaps even a little shy? It was strange to see. There was no reason for you to feel shy around Jihoon. He was the mess here. He was the one who should be avoiding eye contact, hiding himself away from you to ensure he didn't ruin things between you — Things, as if the two of you were anything at all. He was overthinking things again.

"Jihoon," you interrupted his train of thought.

"Hmm? Yeah?"

Idiot.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry about what happened back there," you began. Jihoon almost interrupted you, shaking his head and raising his hands to halt you, but you shook your own head, continuing, "I should've said something. I know I'm new, but god, Doyle's such an idiot. You didn't deserve that, especially since it was my fault. I'm really sorry."

Your eyes showed nothing but sincerity as you spoke. A certain worry reflected in your face, making Jihoon's heart soar, crumbling with some sort of guilt he didn't understand.

He had no idea how to react.

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I didn't- It's not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"What? No, Jihoon, I'm apologizing. You just wanted to help me and I wasn't appreciative. I should've told Doyle to get fucked," you put your lunch bag aside, scooting over a little closer and hesitating a bit before grabbing onto one of his hands, "I'm really sorry. I hope this doesn't hurt our friendship."

"Friendship?"

You flushed at his question, "Yeah, I, uh, aren't we friends? I know it's only been a few days, but-"

"Yes! We're friends, I'm sorry," you gave him a look, "Right, sorry, force of habit. Fuck, okay, I'll stop now," his hand itched in yours as you chuckled at him, "I ... Thank you. It's really nice of you to come check up on me. Don't, uh, feel like you have to stand up for me. Doyle's just ... well, what you said. I wouldn't want you to get picked on too."

"Don't worry about that, Jihoon. He wouldn't do that. He likes me," you revealed casually.

"What?"

"He asked me out last Friday, but I turned him down."

Jihoon's hand tightened around yours without him realizing. That revelation made him feel something he'd never felt before. It was as if his heart dropped while his jaw tightened. It might've been annoyance, but it felt stronger than that. Doyle? Doyle liked you? That bit was not shocking to Jihoon. But the fact that he'd asked you out surprised him. Did he have no care for you as a coworker? You were new, for god's sakes! What you needed was guidance, a friend, a colleague willing to walk you through the work like he needed back when he first started. Yet Doyle was instead choosing to-

"Jihoon? Are you okay?"

Fuck. He'd been rambling internally again. If Jihoon had a nickel for every time he embarrassed himself in front of you ..

"Yeah, uhm, sorry. Just, uh, don't really get along very well with Doyle."

"Can't imagine why," you said sarcastically, "Is there a story behind it?"

Your hand left his own at some point during your conversation, instead going to empty out your paper bag and absentmindedly split the sandwich you had in there. Without saying anything, you offered him a half, smiling in encouragement when he hesitated to take it.

"I, uh, it's nothing. Just dumb workplace drama," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm just not too good at standing up for myself."

That sure was a way to downplay it. But Doyle truly wasn't the sole culprit to Jihoon's history with alienation. This had been his entire life. Jihoon had grown far too accustomed to being harassed in every way imaginable. From alienation, to physical beatings, to even having his life threatened, Jihoon had gone through it all. Back in his youth, he wondered if it'd been something he'd done. If maybe he was just unlikable and that was why everyone either avoided him or attempted to make his life even more miserable. As he grew, he began to wonder if perhaps it'd been due to growing up without any proper socialization. His parents had, well, not really existed — something which pained him to think about — which left him sad and alone for most of his upbringing. This was probably why he was never able to properly interact with other people, leaving him as an easy and defenseless target.

It wasn't a secret to Jihoon that he was weird. And even that was an understatement. As a young boy, he was always into things that most people found strange. He was too focused on books and anything that could expand his intellect. This was followed by his incessant need to babble about his niche interests to anyone willing to listen (which was usually no one). He quickly into his teenage years that this was not welcomed by people — usually learning it through patronizing teasing or some classmates taking on physical means to shut him up. Unfortunately, even as an adult, he'd continued to make this mistake, thinking that maybe he'd meet people who enjoyed his eccentric personality without shutting him down. He'd done it at this same job, immediately learning that his input (or his personality in general) were not very well appreciated.

"But that's still not okay, he shouldn't-"

"Hey, it's fine, really," he smiled at you, "It's more than enough that you'd wanna, uh," he hesitated, "that you'd want to be my friend. You know, with all things considered."

"Are you kidding? You're easily the funnest person in the office," you moved past the subject, likely understanding it was a sore spot for him, "Everyone else is kind of stuck up, honestly."

"Hmm, yeah? I can believe that."

He went on to take a bite from the sandwich you'd offered him, humming at finally being able to fulfill some of his hunger.

"What, they're mean to you but you won't even say anything bad about them?" you gaped at him.

He shrugged, "It's not productive. I don't hate them."

"Wow. You're a way better person than I am, Lee Jihoon," you sounded impressed as you said it.

And that was more than good enough for him.

Jihoon's friendship with you continued to flourish during the upcoming months after that.

Any other instance in which Jihoon would've usually cowered under the targeted disdain of his coworkers was instead met with your intervention. You'd usually interrupt, somehow turning the conversation away from him or even subtly shooting back against whoever had decided to snark at Jihoon.

The first few times had him blushing an embarrassing shade of red, stammering as he attempted to respond or even just appear normal at what had just occurred. He'd never experienced someone standing up for him, much less did he feel like he deserved it. Having your presence in such uncomfortable circumstances was more than enough to aid him, but knowing that you wanted to defend him made his heart go crazy.

Within the short time that he'd known you, it was obvious to Jihoon that, against all his attempts to prevent it, he'd developed a crush on you.

Under any other set of circumstances, that might've been fine. However, Jihoon had never in his life been under normal circumstances.

Crushing on you was entirely too terrifying. You were the most perfect girl he'd ever met — the only girl he'd allowed himself to be interested in in far too many years. He knew deep within him that he could not allow these feelings to continue flourishing, but he had never been quite good at burying his emotions.

It felt so high school. All of it. He was the loser outcast and you were the pretty cheerleader the quarterback was chasing after. The only difference was that unlike in high school, you were giving him the time of day.

Back in school, any time Jihoon found himself liking a girl, he was never met with reciprocation. Which was fine, of course. There were a few instances, though, in which it went further than lack of reciprocation, or even just rejection. Jihoon would need more than two hands to count the amount of romantic humiliations he'd undergone in his life.

There had been instances where he was confessed to as a joke, or even times when he was led to believe his feelings were mutual, only to be rejected in some cruel way. It felt like out of a movie at times.

Jihoon supposed he couldn't really blame others for their childish games. He was an easy target, lacking any familial or any sort of adult protection during his youth. Plus, he knew his victimhood was only a phase of these people's lives.

It was strange, however, that staying at the bottom of the totem pole throughout his life just seemed to become normalcy for him. He expected that once he grew, got a respecting job and found more friends that he'd move up in social hierarchy — or at least stop being metaphorically beaten down at every turn (he was at least grateful that the beatings were now metaphorical rather than literal).

You were the complete opposite of him.

In the time he'd known you, he'd come to find out that your life up until now had been nothing short of picture-perfect. You made friends easily in the office, even befriending people outside of your department you had no obligation of interacting with. And this was not new to you. You'd let Jihoon in on your childhood, telling him about your years as a cheerleader in high school, even riding that cheerleader wave all the way to college. Your entire life had been spent happy and surrounded by people who enjoyed your company.

Yet, somehow, your company of choice had become Jihoon.

Being chosen, wanted — even if just platonically — was something Jihoon had never experienced. His brain would override every single time he saw you, attempting both to not fuck things up between you and to leave his crush dormant.

This proved incredibly difficult at times. Any time you subtly stood up for him, or any time you smiled at him before leading him outside for lunch (at the bench that had now become your place. Yours and Jihoon's) together, or even when you'd simply scoot your chair slightly closer to his own during meetings, Jihoon felt himself sink deeper and deeper. His heart and his brain were constantly working against each other.

Tonight would be his hardest battle as of yet.

The two of you had yet to see each other outside of work in the past two months you'd known each other. This was fine to Jihoon. More than fine, actually. It gave him time away from you to recover from the palpitations your mere presence caused him (which required quite a lot of time).

Tonight, however, was the in which night he'd begrudgingly agreed to join you and the rest of your department on a night out.

Apparently these happened every few weeks. Jihoon had never known about them. Figures.

You were an active participant of these outings, usually insisting that Jihoon tag along, that you'd be there and would not leave his side (God help him). He'd even come to find that his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would be there. The realization that he was such a hermit that he didn't even know his closest friends hung out outside of work without him did bother him a little.

And so he agreed. Against his better judgment, he let your pout and your wide eyes talk him into going to a bar with people (mostly) he knew hated him.

~

Jihoon had been unsure of how to dress.

When he'd texted Mingyu about it, he'd been met with a three-way call between him, Gyu and Soonyoung celebrating his first social outing in months. And then he'd been berated about showing off his 'assets,' whatever that meant.

Sure, Jihoon knew he was more fit than the average person, but this was something he usually felt shy about. He believed himself to be overcompensating for everything else he lacked in his person, both physical and personality-wise. So, it was safe to say that most of his clothes did not show off his assets.

Still, he made the attempt to follow both Mingyu's and Soonyoung's advice when it came to dressing up. Even if his crush was currently forced down a basement and locked away, he still had some dumb desire of impressing you.

You impressed him every day, whether you meant to or not. There was no dress code at his company, but formal attire was pretty much the norm, and you ... you worked with it quite amazingly, if Jihoon had anything to say. From the pencil skirts to the perfectly tailored dress shirts and blouses, you always left Jihoon working overtime to avert his eyes to more respectable places.

And so today he wanted to impress you. Donning some tighter jeans than usual (to show off his lust-worthy legs, had said Soonyoung) and a dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to give way to his chest (which Mingyu had called 'sculpted to the gods'), Jihoon moved on to his hair. He'd come to realize that unlike most other people, you really liked his hair. You constantly complimented the length and the pale tone of it. Bleaching his hair was something he'd started to do once he graduated college. He wanted some sort of separation away from his hometown when he'd moved away to work at the company, and despite the constant negative feedback, he'd decided to keep it.

He opted to let it down tonight, diffusing it after washing it to ensure some volume and a slight wave to it.

He looked fine, he thought. Jihoon didn't have any particular positive opinion about his appearance, but at least he'd gone from thinking himself a hideous hermit to simply okay. But according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, who'd offered to drive him, he looked like sex waiting to happen.

Blushing, Jihoon was unsure as to whether he wanted that to come true or not.

~

The hardest part had been arriving at the bar.

You were the first person he spotted as he and his friends walked in. The place was packed with members of your office, people he'd only seen in passing as he made his way over to his floor gathered with coworkers he wished he didn't know as well as he did.

But all of that left his mind immediately upon registering it. You were his priority. And everyone else's it seemed. Various men in your vicinity had their eyes on you, Doyle included.

Jihoon couldn't blame them. How in the world could he when you looked like that?

You were completely ignorant to any of the attention you were receiving. Standing by the bar, you were nursing a drink, leaning your body against it and giving Jihoon (and everyone else) the perfect view of your form. The slip dress you were wearing was shorter than the usual skirts you wore at school, allowing your legs to receive the well-deserved attention of anyone willing to appreciate the beauty before them.

This was the most skin Jihoon had seen of you. It made him feel like a depraved pervert to stand there and just stare, but he was hypnotized. The fleeting thought of getting to do more than just see passed through his mind, sending shivers down his spine. He had to shake his head to remove any filthier thoughts from entering his mind. He felt embarrassed and idiotic involving you in such thoughts. A sad, lonely virgin using his one and only female friend to feed himself with such thoughts was incredibly sick and deprived and-

"Dude, stop drooling. You haven't even said hi yet."

Mingyu nudged at him, breaking him away from his trance at once. Jihoon shook his head again to reset, coughing awkwardly as he attempted to negate what Mingyu had said, only to be interrupted by the other guy he'd arrived with.

"You look like sex on legs, man. Go talk to her. We'll go find a table. Come find us if you fuck everything up somehow," Soonyoung received a swift punch to his shoulder at his comment, but shrugged it off as he gave Jihoon thumbs up, walking away with Mingyu.

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon walked over to you, finding you still distracted by your drink.

Before he could even announce his presence, you sensed him, turning back and immediately offering him a wide smile. Good, you were happy to see him.

"Jihoon!," you left your drink on the counter to engage with him in a hug. His arms hovered over your waist, avoiding direct contact both for his sanity and out of respect.

Physical contact had never been Jihoon's forte. Usually he'd need some sort of warning ahead of time in order to mentally prepare himself. When it came to you, he so badly wanted his proclivity against physical touch to burn and die in a fire. He found himself craving your hug the moment you pulled away.

"I honestly thought you wouldn't come," you chuckled.

"I promised I'd come," he smiled back.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink. On me," you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender before turning back to him, "You don't seem like a big drinker. Is a beer okay?", he nodded at you as you handed him the drink.

The two of you leaned against the bar after that, letting silence between you consume you. Jihoon wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time he'd seen a girl outside of work in ... well, ever. And it wasn't just any girl — it was you.

"You look beautiful," he braved, finishing it off with an awkward cough.

Your body turned to his, a shy smile being hidden behind a lip bite, "Yeah? High compliment coming from you."

"H-hmm?"

"Jihoon, you look amazing," you emphasized, "I had no idea you were hiding all this under those baggy suits," your hands went to play with the neck of his collar, "Maybe unbutton it one more?", you said as you did so, "There, that's better."

Jihoon burned up. A tomato's red shade could not compare to how red his ears must've been at that moment. He flushed, breath hitching at your fingers gracing the skin of his chest. All he could do was clear his throat and advert his eyes, awkwardly smiling and nodding at you.

"You're cute," you giggled.

"Uhm, are you drunk?", he couldn't help in asking.

You giggled again, "I'm not, Jihoon. Is it that hard to believe I find you cute? Because you are. I don't know how you don't realize. You've been getting eye-fucked by those girls over there since you walked in," you pointed behind him, leading him to find two girls attempting at subtly looking his way, whispering among each other.

"O-oh, uhm, I'm sure that's not what they're doing," he stumbled, flushed.

"Uh-huh. Anyways, c'mon. I hate hanging out at the bar. Let's find a table," you grabbed onto his wrist then, pulling him towards the back of the bar.

On his way to the table of your choosing, he spotted his two friends, receiving a childish thumbs up from Soonyoung and a mouthed 'my man!' from Mingyu. He groaned internally, shaking his head and frowning at them. Once you made it to an empty table, you even commented on it.

"Those are Soonyoung and Mingyu, right? I'd never actually met them before. Come here with them?"

"Oh, yeah. I- ignore them, they're just being dumb," he scoffed lightly.

His hands laid flat on the table, unknowing of what to do with them. Your demeanor was way more relaxed than his own. It was clear to anyone around that you could blend into any environment. Jihoon, in the meantime, had trouble adjusting practically anywhere, especially at a social pool such as a bar.

"It's fine, Jihoonie, they're just rooting for you," you winked at him before enveloping the straw of your own drink in your mouth.

Jihoon decided not to overthink that (or maybe save it for later), also swinging at his own drink to avoid more awkward words leaving his mouth. He wasn't even sure why he was being such a socially inept mess. The two of you had had long-winded conversations at work many times before, maybe it was just the current setting. It felt the way he assumed a date would, except that it wasn't.

"Hmm, can I have a sip? My drink's too sweet. Here, have a taste," you went to grab at his beer, shoving your pink drink to his side of the table.

Looking down at the straw, he noticed the red shimmer of your lipstick on it, gulping at the thought of letting his lips touch it. But before he could psych himself out, he did it.

Before actually sipping at the drink, he allowed himself taste the lipstick. It was a sick and depraved thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. If this was as much of you as he could have, then he'd take it. The cherry tang it left on his lips made it worth it, but he couldn't let himself to enjoy it for too long. The drink itself had been entirely too sweet, causing his nose to scrunch up, which immediately earned a giggle from across the table.

"Sweet, huh? I should've gone for a beer, but I figured you wouldn't mind sharing," you shrugged as you took another swing of it, handing it back afterwards.

Now his eyes landed on his own beer bottle, eyeing that same glimmer on the mouth of the bottle. Without thinking of it, he took an swing of it, dropping the bottle too harshly back on the table before looking back at you. There, his eyes couldn't help but finding your lips. He tried being subtle, but he seemed to be lacking that skill at the moment.

"Oh, is my lipstick smudged?," your hand went up to your mouth. You fished your purse for a compact mirror and a set of two tubes, smiling at him before beginning to reapply, "It's such a hassle. That's why I never wear darker lip products at work," you said mostly to yourself. Then, you turned to him, plumping your lips before smiling, "How's it look?"

There was absolutely no way you weren't hitting on him. Jihoon may have been an absolute idiot when it came to any social interaction, but he was sure you'd been hinting at something all night. Right?

This was the perfect moment for him to flirt back. To compliment you, to woo you and make his interest known. If any moment was tailored for such a thing, it was this one. Jihoon just needed to grow some balls for once and be assertive.

However, that is not what he did.

Instead of coming up with some charming one-liner, Jihoon instead stumbled over his words, delivering a mixture of 'uhm, yea!' and 'looks great!,' completely emotionless while also awkward.

Fortunately for Jihoon, all you did was giggle in return. It sometimes felt both demeaning and like a relief when you'd giggle in return to his awkwardness. He hoped to elicit different reactions out of you, but that fault fell completely on him.

You eyed the bar behind him, causing him to turn back. There was a small area that was supposed to make up a dancefloor. This wasn't exactly a club, but the dancing scene appeared pretty turned up. Jihoon could even spot his two friends on the dancefloor with some girls unknown to him.

When his head turned back to face you, you smiled at him, opening your mouth to speak. Jihoon could see where this was going.

"Hey, Jihoon. Wanna dance with me?"

You were grinning as you asked. That overexcitement that was usually present on your face was there once more. Disappointing you with a rejection was the very last thing Jihoon wanted to do. It was literally how he'd ended up out tonight.

But, still, his idiocy knew no limits, apparently.

"Oh, uh, I- I don't dance," he stammered, "Sorry."

He went back to nursing his drink, eyes avoiding yours and closing off from further questions. When he looked back up, he was mortified to find some dejection in your eyes.

He needed to salvage this. He was a good enough dancer. He had no idea why he'd even said no in the first place.

"I, uh, actually, I could-"

"Hey, beautiful. If he won't dance, I'll take you out for a spin. I'll give her back in a bit, Jihoon, don't worry."

Jihoon's abrupt interruption was, of course, delivered by Doyle. Why he had been close enough to make out your conversation, Jihoon had no idea. It irritated him, though. That was for damn sure.

Jihoon knew you wouldn't say yes to him. After the endless lunch breaks you'd spent together, you'd become privy to Doyle's treatment of Jihoon. And although you never once actually acted on the negative feelings that had inspired against Doyle, you had still expressed to Jihoon how much such things had dampened your view of him.

What Jihoon hadn't considered, though, had been the very frustrating concept of peer pressure making an appearance.

A few other coworkers at a nearby table started to instigate, encouraging you to go join Doyle. Claims that he was a great dancer and that you'd look good out there together were thrown around. Each comment made Jihoon sink more and more into his seat. At some point, one of the girls in your neighboring cubicles even walked over to you, grabbing your hand to further encourage you to accept Doyle's offer.

You appeared troubled. From Jihoon to Doyle to the girls, you looked back and forth, mouth opening and closing without an actual response leaving you. An uncomfortable smile was on your lips the entire time.

It was obvious to Jihoon you simply did not want to leave him to his own devices. You'd promised so, after all. So he decided to take you out of your misery.

Getting up, he cleared his throat, "Go ahead. I, uh, I'll just go hang out with Gyu and Soon. I kinda ditched them earlier."

He added a little white lie to really sell it. His friends wanted him to stay with you, but he didn't want to force you to not have fun. He had his chance, twice, and stupidly missed it.

"See? Jihoon's busy. This isn't really his scene anyway. C'mon," and so Doyle managed to pull you away.

As you walked away, you turned back to Jihoon, but he was faster. You mentioned going to find him after you were done, but Jihoon tuned it out. Walking away in order to get to his friends, he could hear a short exchange between a few comments made by some coworkers. They weren't anything new, but they still bothered him at this moment.

"They'd made such a cute couple, huh?"

"Yeah! I heard Y/N was head cheerleader in high school. Doyle used to be a quarterback. It's literally like fanfiction."

"Yeah. Jihoon, though ... I don't think that'd work. He's too fucking awkward."

"A bit of a weirdo too. She's out of his league."

And then he was out of earshot.

He found Soonyoung sitting by some table near the entrance quick enough, he thanked god for that. He needed to at least not be alone right now.

"Dude! What are you doing here? What happened to your girl?", Soonyoung was quick to question.

Jihoon shrugged, taking a seat dejectedly.

"Oh, shit, man. I'm sorry," Soonyoung caught on, patting Jihoon on the back, "What happened?"

Jihoon simply gestured north of him, directing Soonyoung's eyes to the dancefloor you were currently at. You'd quickly warmed up to the mood, a smile gracing your face as you danced along with a few of the girls from the office. The silver lining was that you weren't actually dancing with Doyle as originally intended, but rather dancing near him. Still, Jihoon could see Doyle occasionally make his way to you and try to subtly get you to dance with him.

"Fuck. It's that asshole Doyle, huh? I'm sorry, man."

"What happened?", Mingyu suddenly showed up, sweaty and out of breath.

"That dick Doyle took Hoonie's girl," this was met with a frown and an expletive from Mingyu.

"She's not my girl. She's not my anything," Jihoon grumbled, "I think I'll just go home."

Getting up, he was stopped by Mingyu, pleading he stay and have fun. Similar complaints were given by Soonyoung. But neither were enough for Jihoon to want to stay. He'd been an idiot and done nothing to even try and match your energy. It was no wonder you left at the first chance you had.

"I only came to hang out with her," Jihoon sighed sadly, "I'll just see you guys next weekend, okay? Have fun without me."

He hugged each goodbye, disregarding their pouts and heading out. He didn't bother looking back, not wanting to sadden himself even more.

"You're lying to me."

Both Mingyu and Soonyoung stared at Jihoon like puppies awaiting a treat. Their metaphorical tails were practically wagging. It was unnerving. Especially because of the subject at hand.

Jihoon had decided to take the Monday off. He'd decided to grovel over what happened. After what happened last night, he felt like a complete loser facing you at work. Like an idiot, he'd let his feelings get all muddled and made himself believe that maybe you had some interest in him. Only to immediately fuck things up and leave you alone with the guy who was his literal antithesis. Not only that, but he'd left you there without even saying goodbye despite having agreed to be there for the sole reason of being with you.

After four o'clock, Jihoon should've known that his two nosey friends would come find him. It was rare for Jihoon to miss work, so their sudden knocking a few hours after clocking out was predictable.

However, they'd been the ones to shock Jihoon. They had shit-eating grins when he'd let them in. They'd managed to sit through a quick lunch prepared by Jihoon before spilling what had them in such an annoying mood.

"Dude, she came looking for you after you left," had said Mingyu.

"She looked sad as fuck when we told her you left! Then today when you didn't show up to work, she-" then Soonyoung was interrupted by an overexcited Mingyu.

"She asked us for your address, dude! Came all the way to accounting all shy and shit and asked if we thought it'd be okay if you stopped by," Mingyu had finished.

Jihoon spent a few minutes in surprised silence after that. The belief that they were playing a prank on him was the most logical to him.

"Dude, we're not lying!," Soonyoung exclaimed, nudging Mingyu so he'd confirm his statement.

"Yeah, she said she'd stop by in a few hours. We had to clock out early to come warn you."

"You clocked out early cause you hate working," Jihoon rebutted."

"Okay, two things can be true at once."

"Anyways, she'll be here at any moment. So you should doll yourself up for her. I have no idea what she may want, but-"

Mingyu interrupted this time, "Are you kidding? They're gonna fuck. It's going to be a k-drama moment and then they'll seal the deal."

Soonyoung made an O face and gave Gyu a high-five. The children in front of Jihoon were beginning to drive him insane. And usually he would've scolded them, but their words were making him too anxious to think.

Suddenly, Jihoon got up, ushering them out.

"Okay, get the hell out of here. I need to be ready for her, fuck. Fuck. I should've just gone to work today, I'm such an idiot," he groaned to himself, beginning to pick up their plates so he could tidy up the place a bit.

"Dude, calm down. It'll be fine. Clearly she cares if she's coming to check up on you after just one day of you being gone," Soonyoung reasoned, "Whatever happened to a phone call anyway?"

"This is the romantic way to do it, Soon, c'mon."

Mingyu shrugged in agreement, now dragging Soonyoung along with him towards the exit. Their goodbyes were as prolonged as per usual, but Jihoon was eventually able to get them out of his apartment.

Jihoon rushed to make the place as tidy as possible, even fixing himself up as best as he could whilst also looking casual. The hardest hurdle was coming up with non-pathetic reasons as to why he'd left in such a rush last night and why he had skipped work altogether.

How was he supposed to explain that he was a sensitive, good for nothing, pathetic, loser piece of-

But there was a knock before he could even finish a single thought.

He knew who was on the other side, even if he tried to will you away by purely praying to get himself out of this situation.

"Jihoon? I know you're in there," you called out from outside, "I saw Mingyu and Soonyoung leave work early today. I assume they came over to warn you I'd be coming."

Fuck, you were too smart.

There were too many good things about you. And Jihoon would've loved nothing more than to take a few hours to think about all those things, but he had your actual presence to deal with at that moment.

With a deep breath, he walked over to the door, opening it and finding you standing on the other side of it. You were still wearing your usual office ensemble, meaning you'd come directly from work.

"Jihoon," you breathed out. There was a mixture of relief and worry in your tone.

"Uhm, come in," he moved aside to allow you in.

Naturally, the two of you moved over to the couch, rushing to the kitchen really quick to get you a drink — one he, of course, knew by memory from the months in which he'd known you.

"So, uh, what's up?", he cleared his throat.

"Jihoon," you put down the coffee cup he'd handed you, shifting your body on the couch to face him, "I'm really sorry about last night," you began, "I promised I'd stay with you and then I left when I really should've said no to Doyle and all the girls."

He wasn't fully facing you, but he could still perceive how apologetic you were. It made him feel like an asshole to be the cause of this. Why did he have to be so damn sensitive?

"It's not your fault, it's-"

You went to grab his hand from his lap, mirroring that first time you'd followed him outside back when you'd barely started working with him. Physical touch always made him anxious, but it was a good type of anxiety when it came to you.

"No, Jihoon, it is," you reaffirmed, hesitating to continue.

A sort of shy look overtook your face, drawing your eyes away from him for the first time since your arrival. You even let go of his hand, acting as if you'd been shocked you even took it in the first place. A small 'sorry' left your lips before you continued speaking.

"And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night with all my, uh, flirting," you swallowed, "I know you don't see me that way. I guess it was just the whole, uh, vibe? that made me feel like it was okay, but I won't do it again, I promise. I want to respect your boundaries. I didn't think you'd end up skipping out of work because of me. Fuck, I feel like a terrible friend."

Jihoon could do nothing but watch in horror as you spoke.

Every word that left your lips was more wrong than the previous. You'd misunderstood everything. But then again, Jihoon had not communicated his interest at all. You had no way of knowing that he liked you or that he'd been hoping against all hope that he hadn't misinterpreted your advances.

There was one last chance presenting itself in front of Jihoon. This was his last and only chance to set things straight. To grow some balls and risk it when he told you that he reciprocated any feelings you may have had for him — and tenfold.

But he stayed quiet, gulping when you sat there with an equally horrified look on your face. It was likely due to his silence, yet his body was still frozen.

"Uhm, Jihoon, I- I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, I-"

"Will you go out with me?"

It had been said so suddenly that Jihoon didn't even register he'd been the one to say it. He hadn't planned to say that, especially so suddenly. It was as much a shock go him as it must've been to you. Surely his face matched yours, which consisted of wide eyes and an agape mouth. The shock was entirely mutual.

"What?"

Jihoon flushed, gulping and looking at his lap. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. This was the most daring thing he'd done in years, and its effects were manifesting physically. Sweaty palms, rumbling stomach, eyes burning, he had it all.

But at least it was out there now.

"I, uhm, I wanted to know if you'd want to go out with me?," he tried again, pathetically adding a quiet 'please' afterwards.

"Jihoon, what? You like me?"

The way you asked made it sound like it was the most shocking thing you'd heard in your life. That in itself made his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He decided to start from the beginning. And this time he was the one to grab your hand.

"I was okay with everything you did or said last night. Trust me. I was just a coward. I was especially a coward when you asked me to dance. I wanted to say yes- I should've said yes. But instead, I let that idiot take you and- and when I saw you having fun, with- with him, I just left like an idiot. I'm sorry I left just like that. It wasn't you. It was me, I swear," he rambled on a single breath, "I do, uhm, I do like you. A lot. An embarrassing amount, really," he chuckled to himself, "And if you'd still be willing, I'd, uh, I'd really like to take you out on a date."

Eye contact had never been Jihoon's forte, and much less in an instance such as this. His eyes remained on his lap, altogether avoiding even daring look in your general direction. But eventually came the time in which he had to look your way to try and gauge your reaction.

Looking up at you, he believed to see horror in your eyes. The very last thing he could've ever wanted to provoke in you.

This was it. This was yet another rejection. Another humiliation leading up to social ruin. His one and only friend in his department would seize to want any sort of relationship with him and it was all because he misread a situation yet again and acted like a socially inept idiot.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I didn't know you liked me," you interrupted.

"Huh?"

"God, Jihoon, I had no idea you liked me back, what? This is crazy. I thought I fucked everything up," you let out a humorless chuckle.

"What?"

Now he was confused. Now he was the one with horror in his eyes.

'Back'?

"Sorry," you chuckled, scooting closer to him, "I like you. I assumed it was obvious and that you were just having a hard time letting me down easy," and with that, you blew his mind.

Jihoon sat there, mouth agape and eyebrows scrunched together in absolute shock. Things could not have turned more different than he'd ever imagined.

Yet he still felt like he was being played. Such things had happened in his past. Fake confessions, tricks of the mind, you name it. As much as Jihoon liked you, his past experiences screamed deep within him to back away, to not fall for it.

And then you grabbed his hand again, scooting even closer. There was a look of understanding in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I'm not lying Jihoon, I really do like you."

Before he could ask what you meant, you continued.

"I, uhm, talked to Mingyu yesterday — I asked him not to mention it to you. He told me some stuff about your childhood," you paused, waiting for the solemn nod he gave you to continue. He tensed, leading you to squeeze his hand, "I know there's been some stuff in your past. We didn't get into details, but I promise I'm being genuine. I like you. And if you really do like me back, I'd love to go on that date with you."

Jihoon hadn't processed your proximity until this moment. He'd been too focused on the possibility of this being another ruse, another way to break him down just because of his social ineptitude. But now that his brain was working again, it immediately malfunctioned once more as he realized what was happening.

Not only had you admitted your own feelings and accepted his invitation, but you were far too close for anything other than a kiss to occur. If your proximity didn't give it away, your eyes did. Zeroed in on his lips, they occasionally made their way back to his eyes as if asking for silent permission.

And for once in his life, Jihoon was daring. Jihoon took the first step without fear of fucking things up.

As pathetic as it'd be to admit out loud, the very first touch of your lips was life-changing for Jihoon. There'd been one or two kisses in his life, all filled with instant embarrassment or simply being nothing to write home about.

Yet this kiss was devastating. It was a testament to everything he'd ever fantasized about yet convinced himself he'd never have. It was soft and barely there at first, but the quiet sound you let against his lips was all he needed to lose his mind.

Before he could pull away, shy, bashful, you pulled him back in, opening your lips and welcoming him to do the same.

Your tongues met in the middle before Jihoon completely surrendered to you. He didn't even try to put up a fight. It was unnecessary. All he wanted was your kiss, to fall victim to anything you wanted to take and give him.

A shaky breath was let out into your lips. It felt as if his body was vibrating. The immense nerves he usually felt in social situations and all their physical symptoms were present, but it was all too different than usual. They were accompanied by a burning in his stomach.

Jihoon knew this to be arousal. Frankly, it was a pathetic realization — to feel such things with a simple kiss. But it wasn't any kiss. It was you. It was your tongue in his mouth, your hands making their way to his hair, your soft sounds muffled with his own.

"N-no, not yet. Please," he found himself pleading when you pulled away to breathe.

And he almost cried when you moaned at his pleading before trapping him in another kiss, just as heavy as the last.

Jihoon was in over his head. He could barely follow along. Could barely please you with his own lips. He was defeated by you, too high on lust to be a worthy opponent. And god, he couldn't even let himself begin to think about what was going on in his pants at that moment.

"Jihoon," you breathed.

You'd learned your lesson from last time, it seemed. Instead of attempting to pull away, you licked at his lips, keeping a nonexistent distance between you.

"What do you want?", you asked, "What do you want from me? I'll give you anything you ask for."

His mind couldn't wrap itself around that statement. He wanted everything. His body was burning and his mind was reeling. Never in his life had he come close to feeling like this.

It had been many years since he'd settled for his life. No more hopes or dreams for love, for anything grander out of life. The concept of physical touch or any sort of pleasure had left the picture quickly into college. All he'd ever known had been senseless fantasies of what could be but would never be.

Yet now he sat here, prettiest girl he'd ever seen looking into his eyes — eyes heavy with lust that made him have to use all his strength to not cry and moan and whine at the effect he seemingly had on you. Did you like stupid losers with nothing to offer? Because he was the perfect candidate.

And his eyes dropped to your lips again, almost as if there was some sort of pull towards you that he could not control. Even while knowing all other forms of pleasure he could beg for, he needed to kiss you again.

"Nghn, I- Kiss, I wanna kiss you. Please? I wanna-"

His begging didn't last long, soon interrupted by something he could barely call a kiss. It was wet and messy, teeth clanking and tongues suckling at each other. Sounds of pleasure shamelessly left both your lips and your bodies got closer to one another.

The next thing to blow his mind was your body, which soon made its way to straddle his own. From this angle, you were slightly above him, now ensuring you had all the control — though that was met with no complaints from him.

His usually shy hands were forced onto your hips by your own before yours went back to running through his hair. They were liberal, your hands, in exploring him. When your lips trailed down to his neck, exploring and quickly finding his weakest spots, your hands went to his shirt, reaching under it and exploring the bare skin underneath.

"I want you, Jihoon. Do you want me too?," you whispered into his ear, teeth softly pulling at the lobe.

Jihoon couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His mind was a chorus of yesyesyes, too broken to actually respond.

"Want you, p-please. Anything ... You can do anything, just-"

Everything cut off then. Your touch, your lips on his skin, your weight on his lap.

But it was replaced by you pulling him towards the door leading into his bedroom, quickly assessing the room before pushing him onto the bed.

He was pliable under your touch. He'd be a boneless doll if necessary. Anything you wanted was yours — Jihoon was yours.

The empty weight of his lap only lasted a few seconds before you filled it back up, hands once again finding his shoulders. He felt shy under your gaze, especially knowing you could probably feel the hardness beneath you.

"I've never ... I know it's probably obvious, but I, uhm ..."

"That's okay, Jihoonie," your hand went to his cheek, soft in caressing it, "We don't have to do anyth-"

"No!", he suddenly interrupted. He became bashful when he realized how sudden and loud he'd been, "I mean, uhm, I want to. I really want to. Please."

You sighed, "So polite, Jihoonie. Bet you're going to be so good to me, aren't you?", you said almost to yourself.

Jihoon swore his dick twitched at your words. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to be good for you. He needed you to tell him how nice and how good he was. Nothing would ever compare to being the giver of your pleasure.

He nodded numbly, mouth agape as you leaned down.

But instead of kissing him as he'd expected, the hand on his cheek shifted. Your thumb graced at his bottom lip as you watched intently. Jihoon's body reacted on its own. He needed no direction to open his mouth the tiny bit necessary to let your thumb in, suckling softly without needles any further direction from you.

This caused you to groan, which in turn made him moan. He'd never been one to have any sort of creative fantasies. Any time he allowed himself to think about sex, it was all pretty cut and dry, usually involving some faceless girl that he knew would never manifest herself into real life.

But now he had a girl — a girl he was completely infatuated by. And she had her thumb in his mouth, looking at him like he was the manifestation of her lust.

Jihoon didn't know what to do with you. You were too much for him to deal with, too much for him to function properly. He'd never imagined himself having to will himself into not cumming due to a pretty girl's thumb in his mouth, but in this moment there was nowhere else he would've preferred be.

And then you pulled your thumb away, earning yourself an embarrassing whine from him. He almost had it in him to complain, to whine and ask for you to give it back. He wanted to provide, to give you something back. But instead, you kissed him again, this time using your hands to unclothe him in the midst of the messy kiss.

Somehow he ended up shirtless, with his pants removed and sitting there with mere boxers while you sat atop him, still fully clothed. Yet he didn't have it in him to complain. If this day was full of you doing whatever you desired with his body, allowing him not a single touch of yours, he'd take it. He'd be willing to take anything you gave him. He'd beg if necessary.

"God, you're gorgeous. How do you not have a line waiting to get their turn with you?", there was a hint of frustration in your voice. It was as if the sight made you angry, like it made you so frustrated you couldn't hold back. Cuteness aggression but replaced with lust. Jihoon couldn't comprehend having such an effect on someone, much less you.

"I, uhm, I don't-"

He had no idea how to respond to your praise. But thankfully, you didn't give him enough time to muster out some pathetic response, instead opting to kiss him again, hands feeling up every available inch of skin.

You pushed him up on the bed, silently encouraging him to scoot up so he could lay down with your body still straddling his own. This felt more intimate. Jihoon knew where it was leading, he'd imagined being in this position once or twice, but never pictured it'd be anything like this.

"Is this okay?", you asked once your hands went to his chest, softly tracing shapes in it in a way Jihoon wasn't sure was supposed to be teasing or if he was just so touch-starved that it felt euphoric to him.

"Yeah, I, oh, fuck, yes, just ..."

He found his answer when your hands went to his nipples, circling them softly before pinching and pulling at them with your fingers, shutting him up before he could even make out a single sentence. It only became worse when you lowered your head, mouth meeting one nipple while the other remained engaged by your hand.

Sensitivity on his chest was not something he was aware of. There were likely countless things he was into but had never managed to explore. But Jihoon decided in that moment that what he was into was you. Every touch, every kiss, every look, every word. He held onto every single one and sighed into them, losing himself in the process and- fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Any further exploration of his mind halted at that moment. The moment in which your hips joined in on the fun. They ground against his own shyly at first, testing the waters. His hands gripped at your hips helplessly, almost as if attempting to hold onto his remaining sanity.

The worst part was when you reacted to it. Enjoying the feeling that first rock of your hips gave you, you continued, whining into his mouth as your hips sped up. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, though they occasionally felt up at his arms and chest, clawing at the muscle there and ensuring to leave your mark.

Jihoon was on fire. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. All he could do was pathetically whine into your lips, silently begging for you to never stop, for you to make him forget himself.

"Please, oh fuck, pl-please don't stop. It's so- good, oh ..."

"God, keep talking like that," you groaned.

Fuck. Of course you liked him pathetic and whiny. Of course you were turned on by it. It created a never ending cycle of you doing whatever you wanted to him and him crying like a needy loser, only causing you to double down. It was heaven and hell. Jihoon's body was in overdrive.

"You're gonna make me cum, you- fuck, don't stop, I need- shit, please."

His voice was unrecognizable now. Jihoon didn't know which dimension he was in anymore.

Until it all halted.

Your movements ended, and the weight on his crotch left him. A pathetic whine came from his lips at this, but he was too needy to feel embarrassed.

Before he could get up and kneel, begging at your feet to continue (something which he'd truly do if he wasn't to embarrassed by the thought), you made your way back to him, though this time Jihoon felt an unexpected warmth on him. A warmth accompanied by sticky wetness. It took Jihoon a few seconds to realize what was sitting on him, but when it dawned on him, it destroyed him.

Daring to open his eyes and look up at you, he found you flushed. Your face looked warm and your expression was far too lustful for him to handle. What caught his attention the most, though, was your sudden nudity. His brain could not process it, the sight of you in complete nudity, sitting on his cock with a single layer of his damned boxers intervening.

The sight went beyond his imagination. Goosebumps formed on every inch of his skin, and even his hardness twitched under you in a manner so pathetic it shocked even himself. The image above him would haunt him for the rest of his life, especially as he laid there unknowing of what to do with himself, of how to respond to such a sight.

And then you responded for him.

You grasped his hands, taking them away from your hips and bringing them up to your chest. Naturally, they engulfed your breasts, a groan leaving his lips at their weight in his palms.

"Like this, baby. Just touch me however you want," you encouraged with a breathy sigh.

"You're so pretty, fuck," he groaned again.

It caused you to giggle, biting your lip when his hands began to fondle you, playing with your nipples in the way you'd played with his earlier.

Your hips began moving again, though this time it was hotter, more desperate. You became frustrated with the friction quickly enough, digging into his boxers and pulling him out. Jihoon cried out at this, eyes rolling back at your hold.

After a few experimental tugs at his dick, you let go, letting it fall back against his stomach and taking a seat on it. Not putting him in yet, you began sliding against the length of it, letting your warm wetness grind against it in a manner so filthy it had Jihoon's head throwing back into the mattress.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," you groaned, "You'll feel so good, I already know it."

It was like you wanted to kill him. But Jihoon knew it was the mindless lust speaking. Which only made it all the worse for him. His incidental effect on you drove him crazy.

"Please, I- I want it," he cried.

But you decided to kill him some more.

"How bad?", you whispered into his ear, movements not halting.

If you wanted him to beg, to become a pathetic whiny mess as he pleaded for a single touch, he would. He had no pride when it came to you.

"So bad, you ... you don't understand. I need it. I need to feel it so badly."

But god, you were so mean. So terribly mean and wicked to him. Simple begging would not do, Jihoon realized. You wanted more.

"Need to feel what?", your hips sped up, the friction half-killing Jihoon.

"Your ... your, fuck," he gulped, "Your pussy. Please."

You moaned and then giggled, separating your cunt from his dick in order to create some distance. Sneaking between your bodies, your hand grabbed onto his hardness, sitting yourself up on your knees so you could align him to your cunt.

His tip was at your cunt, forced to circle at it by your hand as you teased both yourself and him. The warmth begging to wrap around his head made him delirious. Nothing had ever felt as good. There was no comparable experience.

"N-no condom?", he willed himself to ask.

"I'm on birth control. So if it's okay with you ...", you trailed off, chuckling when he nodded desperately at you.

You continued to tease yourself with his dick, gasping at the feeling of his tip against your clit as he twitched in your hand. The teasing was killing him, though it was too pleasurable for him to beg for anything else.

"God, Jihoon, I can already tell you're gonna feel so good, baby," you practically whined, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, angel. Just you wait."

And then your welcomed him in. In a slow descent, you lowered yourself on him, crying out his name once he was finally bottomed out.

Under you, Jihoon lost his soul. It was too warm, too wet, too perfect for him to react. His brain clocked out for the day, leaving him a hollow body meant for nothing but receiving pleasure. That orgasmic feeling of, well, an orgasm, was approaching far too quickly. Jihoon could feel his body contract on itself, insisting at him to let go, to give himself up to you.

But he persisted. The sight above him — the pretty girl with her eyes rolled back and her arched back causing her to press up impossibly close against him — had his body begging for just a few more moments to enjoy the endless pleasure you were currently giving him.

"'m gonna move now, okay, baby? Feel so good already, shit. So full," you sighed.

Your hands settled on his chest, palms pressed against it as you began to bounce. Sometimes you'd bounce, sometimes you'd grind. It was all too deliriously good for Jihoon to realize the exact science behind it.

If everything that came before had led him to this moment, he'd happily go through it all again. Nothing in his life could compare to this, to the intimacy, the closeness he felt to you at this moment. He had to do nothing but cry tears of pleasure under you, taking every bounce, ever rock of your hips, every kiss and every word of praise in his direction. If he had to go back to the lonely, hellish life he lived before just in exchange for this very moment, he'd beg for the chance.

But Jihoon didn't need to be as fatalist anymore. Not when you kept whining his name, when your eyes were crossed and your breasts were bouncing above him in a demonstration of your incessant need for him.

"Baby, give ... give me your hand," you suddenly moaned. Your hips sped up, clearly driving yourself to your orgasm and surely dragging him along with you.

He followed your instruction, just as his brain had been programed. He gave you his hand, groaning when you placed it at your cunt, silently instructing for his knuckle to bend and dig at your clit. You tightened impossibly harder at that and fuck, it was too good. It was too tight, too wet, too filthy as your moans heightened in pitch.

And Jihoon truly wanted to warn you. He wanted to tell you and come right alongside you, but his poor virginal body could only take so much before breaking. It was an impossible task to hold back and await for your own pleasure to join his. But god was it mind-blowing.

He'd orgasmed before. Alone, cold in his room, feeling pathetic due to his lack of possibility at romance, knowing he'd never find a girl to look at him with anything but apathy. Yet here you were, whispering filthy words into his ear, encouraging his orgasm with a hint of mischief in your tone as your orgasm interrupted your words.

You were evil, Jihoon realized.

Above him, you made a show of your high, providing him with a view that would surely ruin him for life. Your hands let go of his body, instead choosing to fondle with your own, putting aside your own orgasmic experience to instead destroy any last bit of sanity left in him (which truly was not much — likely in the negatives by now). Your face was one that Jihoon would tattoo in his memory, bringing back up again and again in order to finish himself off in the many lonely nights to come — he couldn't help his fatalistic way of believing this might be a one and only type of situation.

It felt endless, so endless that the pleasure was almost painful. But Jihoon could still categorically asses this as one of the best experiences of his long years on this earth.

The low after the high was still blissful. Jihoon had heard of 'post-nut' clarity, with it being sold as a negative after such a high. Yet Jihoon felt nothing but bliss as you disconnected from him and dropped to lay at his side, wordless as you intertwined your bodies and stole body heat from him (which, really, he was more than happy to give).

Jihoon was unsure of what to say, but the smile you gave him said enough for the two of you. It was a silent exchange of affection that Jihoon never thought he'd be on the receiving end of.

"Maybe skipping work today was a good idea," you joked after some silence.

His eyebrows lifted. Understatement of the year.

You laughed and nuzzled further. He must've said it out loud. Well, the effect was nice, so he had no complaints.

"We're going to have to visit HR first thing tomorrow morning," you groaned into his chest, seemingly unable to help yourself in pressing kisses there. Jihoon felt too loved.

"Hmm?"

But he was still half-dead.

"I'll wanna jump you as soon as I see you tomorrow morning. I won't be able to be discreet," you joked.

"You wanna, uhm, be official?", he risked in asking.

He wanted to slap himself. You'd given no indication of changing your mind about him. This fatalism was something he really needed to work on.

"Yes, you idiot. God, Jihoon. We're going to have to work on this," you agreed without realizing.

It was quiet after that. It was the same quiet Jihoon had grown used to in his solitary life, except it had morphed into a silence he could see himself becoming fond of. Your breath against his chest was all he could hear, and it was the one and only sound he desired from now on.

The following morning, you awoke before him, loving on him without question, wordlessly showing him how easy it was for you to want him, to love him. It was new, but for once, it didn't scare Jihoon. For once, he could see himself giving into something good without fear.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: office romance, semi-public sex, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 202 (teaser); 2340 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, we have to, hmph-"

That was as far as Jihoon had been able to get all morning before yet another rude interruption from you.

Well, calling it rude would be going too far.

In reality, Jihoon was very welcoming of every single interruption. Especially since each one consisted of your lips on his, with the occasional involving your tongue down his throat.

You'd woken up early, awakening him with soft caresses and kisses to his bare chest. It was a first for him. Everything was a first, really.

He'd been defiled for the first time last night, having the girl of his dreams suddenly showing up to his apartment to fix up a miscommunication (entirely caused by him) and turning his world upside down by confessing to a crush he'd believed completely unlikely.

The details made Jihoon too flustered to really think about, but at least he'd allow himself to enjoy the aftermath of it all.

But sadly, he had to try and interrupt you again. It was nearing the time to go to work, and as happy as he was with you, he knew things at work would likely have to change due to the sudden development of your relationship.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[organic-bloodbath]

Teach Ddakji to me - Part 2

The Salesman x American!Reader

Summary: The salesman teaches you a new game: Rock, paper, scissors, minus one. However, he adds a mix to the game whenever one of you loses.

Warnings: 18+ smut, pure sex. Minors, time for you to leave and come back in a few years, this not for your eyes ✋🏻 the door is that way 👉🏻🚪

A/N: This shall have part 3 and i'm working on part 2 for Mingle too ✍️🏻 i haven't written smut in several years so be nice to me thank you, i feel a bit rusty 🥲

Taglist:

@apookalypse

@lady-of-blossoms

@k1ra-park3r

♡♡

By now you had been seeing him for over a month. He had asked all kinds of things about your life in the U.S., your studies and what you'd want to do in the future, your hobbies and in general what you liked to do, and so on. He was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it warmed your heart.

He told you a little about his job, how he was recruiting new people for different businesses. He didn't get into lot of details, just said that he did like his job and it paid surprisingly well. He was happy at his current life.

He told you about his family, how his dad had died by someone shooting him to death, and that he didn't really keep in touch with many family members anymore. A lot of them had passed away apparently and he didn't want to get into more details at this stage of your relationship. You did feel sad for him, since you still had many living relatives who had some kind of part in your life, despite you moving so far away from your home.

You had gone to several different dates, none of them ending up all the way to the bedroom - yet. Mostly you had been only making out at the end of the date, and that was a lot. He was fine with waiting as long as you wished, not wanting you to be only a short term thing. You had told him about your past with one of your boyfriends how he had left you right after he had slept with you for the first time. He promised he wouldn't even think of acting like that.

He was a little too perfect and you had waited to find any kinds of flaws he had, but by far you found none and sometimes that worried you a little. There was no way a perfect man like he existed. Everyone had atleast one thing wrong with them, whatever it was.

Tonight, you had booked a hotel room together and you had made sure to wear your best pair of panties and bra, definitely avoiding the least sexy ones you owned. You had gone for a dinner before coming to the hotel, he had paid your meal again like a gentleman, as he always did. You tried to insist that you'd pay yours but he wasn't having any of that. Afterwards, you had let him know that you were ready to go all the way tonight, if he wanted to.

Right now, he was teaching you a new game, though this one you knew already but it had a little different twist to it that you hadn't played before.

Rock, paper, scissors, minus one.

It took you a while to understand how the game worked, but you grasped on the idea well enough. You both sat on your own chairs, directly facing each other, only a small gap between your knees.

He had added his own twist for the game - only with you: The one who lost, had to remove one piece of clothing, randomly chosen.

This time, you lost, his scissors cutting your paper. By now you had taken off only your cardigan, while he had taken off his tie and socks - he was taking it slowly, apparently.

You put your hands under your white top, unclipping your bra and pulling it out without taking your shirt off. You showed your dark red bra to him, hanging it in the air, until you threw it towards him. He catched it easily from the air. He brushed his fingers along the lacy canvas for a few times, until let it lay on his lap.

Another round, which made him lose his shirt. He took his time taking it off, a smirk on his face, just to mess with you. He knew you weren't very patient. But when he had taken it off and you saw him shirtless, you could definitely tell that he worked out regularly and kept himself in shape. You bit your lip and felt your cheeks warming up. God damn, you had prepared yourself for that - but still.

There were barely any words exchanged during the entire game, there was no need for that.

This was definitely a lot better than Ddakji.

It didn't take long anymore until you were only wearing your underwear and nothing else, your chest bare and you could see the hunger in his eyes.

"I think it's time for the second part of the game," he said and got up. "This part i haven't gone through with any other people i've played with."

You could see he was already hard through his underwear, which was the only thing he had on him as well. You got up before he managed to come to you and made him sit back down on the chair. He looked at you, eyebrows lifted up in surprise, but didn't stop what you were doing.

You kneeled down in front of him and pulled his underwear off, finally seeing his size how big he really was and you weren't sure if you'd be able to take it all. You looked up at him while taking his dick in your hand, stroking it a few times. He let out a sigh, not been prepared for you to make a move on him first.

You stroked him a few more times, until taking him in your mouth as deep as you were able to go. You got a gag reflex quite soon but managed to take surprisingly lot of him, though definitely not the entire length.

He grabbed your head with his hand, fingers brushing through your hair. He guided you with his hand for a while, noticing what your limits were so he wasn't pushing your mouth too deep. He let out deep moans and grunts, but before he was about to come, he pulled your head off him.

He pulled you up from the floor and grabbed your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips on his, taking him in a deep kiss. His hands fell on your ass, and his tongue found its way into your mouth when you let out a quiet moan.

He pushed you on the bed, immediately crawling on top of you, not breaking the kiss for more than a few seconds.

He massaged your breast until sliding his hand down your stomach all the way to between your legs, under your panties which you still had on. He gently massaged your clit, then putting more pressure on it, making you moan louder than before. He inserted his middle finger inside your vagina, pumping it in and out, soon sliding in a second finger as well.

"Oh god," you whispered, his touch felt so good and you felt like you were going to come sooner than you had expected.

But he stopped when he sensed you were starting to be on the edge of climax. You let out a frustrated groan but he shut you up with another kiss.

He pulled himself back a little bit to take your panties off and got a condom from the bedside table, wrapping it on him. He finally positioned himself against your entrance.

"You ready?" he asked, ready to push in whenever you gave her permission. "You remember the safe word, hm?"

"Ddakji," you breathed with a chuckle and nodded. "Ready."

He didn't wait even a second longer, right then pushing in, slowly. You gritted your teeth, nails digging on his back. God, it hurt so much and you were sure you were going to bleed a little.

"Just, wait a moment, okay?" you said quietly, getting used to his size. You had had sex with a few other men before, but the last time had been in the U.S. and none of them had been as big as him.

He kissed your neck on several different spots, and by now he knew exactly the right spots which made you insane.

"Okay go on," you whispered and that was all needed for him to start moving his hips back and forth.

"God you feel so good," he murmured in your ear.

You moved your hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head into a deep kiss, his tongue playing with yours.

You didn't know how many minutes had passed, you had lost the track of time, and slowly he was fastening his pace, becoming rougher than in the beginning.

Finally, you experienced the best orgasm you had ever had, the waves of pleasure going through your body. You didn't care how loud you were and how thin the walls of this room were, you let your body react the way it wanted. His body fell limp on yours, being a lot more heavy now that he didn't keep himself up on you.

"Was it good?" you whispered, unsure if he enjoyed it as much as you did. It was your first time with him and you weren't sure what kind of sex he had experienced with other women before.

He looked at you with a surprised expression on his face.

"Was it good?" he repeated and then kissed your forehead and smiled. "It was a lot more than just good. It was perfect."

You quickly washed yourself in the bathroom and when you got into the bed, it didn't take long until you fell asleep in his arms.

♡♡

"You fucked him," your roommate gasped, looking at the hickeys on your neck and below your collarbone. "Is this your walk of shame? Oh my god you definitely fucked him."

It was 6am and your class was about to start at 9am. You knew you should have spent the night with him on the weekend, and not when you had to go to a class in the morning, but you had other plans on the weekend and you couldn't wait another week to spend the night with him.

"Shut up," you chuckled, not denying it.

"So, tell me everything," she asked. "No, wait a moment until i get coffee for us."

She could see that you had stayed up late and needed some caffeine to wake you up before the first class. You waited until she was done with the coffee and brought two cups on the table.

"So, is he big?" she asked and your eyes widened. Straight to the deep end, then. "Like how big exactly?"

"Oh, he was big," you said, the back of your mouth still sore.

"On the scale of a cucumber - half of it? 2/3? Don't say an entire cucumber." Her eyes widened and she gasped. "I mean, he looked like he could easily be-"

"Oh god no, i would have instantly walked out of the door in that case," you cringed and showed an estimated size from memory.

"Ok but how did you do it? Bed, table, shower, wall? All of them?" she asked, talking so fast you weren't able to interrupt her. "Sorry, i haven't had sex in months i'm going insane if i don't get some soon. Like my vagina is actually screaming to be filled. Does he possibly have a hot friend? Could you text and ask? Friend, brother, dad - i'll take anything."

"I'm not going to ask that!" you laughed.

"How could you find a hottie like that in a damn subway station anyway? The only man who has come to talk to me there was a homeless man asking for money because he just got out of jail for drunk driving," she said. "Let's go clubbing this Friday, you can be my wingwoman."

"I don't know, i don't really do clubbing," you said awkwardly, you weren't a fan of those places and hadn't been at any club in a few years.

"Please you have to share your tricks with me," she was begging by now. "Otherwise i'm gonna have to seduce our professor who i've had hots for since the beginning of our semester and we all know that's a horrible, horrible idea."

"Yeah, that's a big no," you said instantly.

"You know what must be big? His-"

"Okay shut up," you interrupted immediately before she was able to continue. "Ask one of your friends to go clubbing with you."

"I will, but you should tag along," she insisted. "You should be more social with us outdoors, come on."

"I'll pass this time, thanks," you said, giving an 'i'm sorry' smile. You took a sip of your coffee, then changing the subject. "Oh, by the way, my brother is coming for a visit," you said and pointed a finger on your roommate before she was about to say something. "And he's definitely OFF limits, don't even think about it, he's going to get married next summer."

"Aw, fine," she pouted, for a second she had had her hopes up, but it was quickly erased.

♡♡

The salesman went to a park with a large bag full of bread, there was atleast 50 loafs in total, and pockets full of lottery tickets.

He found a group of homeless men and women, sitting on different benches. He approached them one by one, holding a loaf of bread on the other hand and a single lottery ticket on the other.

The homeless man looked at his hands and was about to take both to himself, but the salesman pulled his hands back.

"You can choose only one of these," he said. The man thought about his choice for a few seconds, until grabbed the lottery ticket. The salesman offered him a coin to scratch the ticket with.

The man's face fell when there was no win. The salesman repeated this action to all the people in the park nearby, and only one of them chose the bread.

Suddenly, he saw you in the distance, but his face fell when he saw who you were with. A young man was walking next to you, arm around you shoulder, keeping you close to him. The salesman had no idea what you were talking about, but somehow the man managed to make you laugh.

He didn't like what he was seeing, not one bit. Anger was rising inside him, he couldn't help it.

"Hey, give me the bread!" one of the homeless men yelled at him.

"Yeah, give us the bread!" a woman shouted nearby.

"I apologise, but you had a chance to choose the bread, but you chose the ticket instead," the salesman pointed out politely and threw the bags of bread on the ground.

He started pouring his anger out by stomping on the breads, mushing them all completely and letting out a few frustrated screams out of his mouth.

The homeless people looked at him like he had lost his mind and should have been taken into a mental hospital. They got up and left, it became too hard to watch a grown man's sudden tantrum.

The salesman pulled his hair back and brushed sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his suit. He took a deep breath to calm down.

"I'm cool, everything's cool," he mumbled to himself and straightened his tie a little bit. He looked around him, barely anyone on his sight anymore. He really needed to work on his anger issues.

♡♡

"Hi," you greeted and planted a kiss on his cheek when you arrived to the cafe a few hours later to meet him.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" he said and forced on a smile. He might have had a little sarcastic tone in his voice, but nothing what you might have noticed.

"Oh, my brother came to visit me, he's staying for a few days. I showed him a few places around here, he had never visited Korea before or really travelled much outside the States," you explained, seeming excited. "I haven't seen him since i moved to Korea."

He lifted his eyebrows and after a moment started laughing a little bit. You looked at him, confused what was so funny.

"Your brother," he mumbled. "Right, of course, your brother. Did you have fun?"

"A lot of fun, yes," you smiled widely. "Do you want to meet him?"

He went silent for a moment, somehow surprised by your suggestion. Sure, you had been dating for a while now but he hadn't been prepared to meeting your family members since they were all far away in the United States. It hadn't really seemed like an option before.

"Well, sure, why not," he said with a smile, though he was surprisingly a little nervous about it, which was quite unusual for him.

♡♡

That same night, your roommate had texted that she had found a guy at the club and if it wouldn't be a problem for you to find another place to spend the night, since she didn't want to go to the guy's place right when she had met him.

You were fine with it and answered that your boyfriend let you stay at his house. Calling him your boyfriend sounded so strange, but he was one, right? It just sounded like you were both still in high school, and he was a lot older than you anyway.

This was your first time visiting his home. You hadn't thought about what kind of home he had or what you were expecting, but it was larger than you had imagined. Certainly a lot fancier than your apartment, which felt like a closet compared to his place.

He hadn't visited your apartment either, so you didn't think much of it that you hadn't seen his place sooner.

He went to the kitchen to get a bottle of wine for you and left you in the living room by yourself. You saw a shelf which seemed to be full of old records, most of them seemed to be artists you weren't familiar with.

"Hey, can i look through your records and find something to listen to?" you shouted.

You heard his approval to choose anything you wanted and started browsing through them.

Then, opening one of the drawers to see if there was more, your heart stopped for a second when you saw something hidden in there.

A gun. He had a gun in his drawer.

You had never held a gun in your hand and carefully lifted it with your hand, making sure to keep your fingers far from the trigger, just in case it was loaded. You looked at it side to side, you didn't know much about guns but it seemed to be a real revolver.

Then, he came back to the living room, a red wine bottle and two wine glasses in his hands, eyes widening when he saw what you were holding and the shocked look on your face.

"Why do you have a gun?"

[peace-hunter]

Question for baby prime Orion au: how do the rest of the gang take that Orion is the "lost" prime. Because here's the reaction I think they'll have:

D-16:oh primes my friend is a prime and I punch him in the face yesterday!?

Elita: oh primes, this trouble making bot is a prime!?

B-127: one of my new friends is a prime, this is awesome!!

"How well am I taking that one of my friends is actually a demi-god?" reactions from best to worst:

you're pretty much right with Bee. this has been the wildest day he's had since forever, he's very much just along for the ride and he's kinda just "this may as well happen :)"-ing through everything. he's also lowkey clinging to the one (1) good new he's gotten from this whole affair for dear life. like. he could freak out about the fact his entire life has been a lie and he's been working himself to death for a tyrant that's betrayed their entire race to their sworn enemies. or he could be happy his new best friend is extra cool now. so. y'know. glass half-full half-empty kinda deal.

Dee's reaction is,,,, complicated. obviously.

on one hand holy crap his friend is a prime that's the coolest fucking shit ever he's friends with someone directly related to megatronus prime-

on the other. this is just one more thing he's been wrong about for cycles. everything he thought was true is turning out to be a lie and even if this isn't a betrayal like sentinel's it's still something he has to accept is not what he thought it was. Orion, his best friend, the person he trusted the most, is not what he thought he was.

and even though Orion didn't know (which... is also a point of contention between them with Dee not being quite able to believe one could forget such a thing even as Orion swears over and over again he had no idea) there's still a divide between them that wasn't there before. now Orion is this almost mythological being directly created by their god for greater things while Dee is just... a miner.

now Orion is a Prime. and Dee has just found out what happens when you trust a so-called Prime.

and he also can't help but wonder, as he remembers all those times Orion ignored what he said and involved him in his crazy schemes with no regard for what he thought about it, if it's just in the nature of Primes to do as they wish without considering what it means for everyone else.

but the real victim here is elita who is experiencing a level of cringe that hasn't been seen in cybertron before nor will be seen again until maybe four million years and a war later during peace negotiations. pray for her.

baby prime orion au

[cutehoons02]

The Ice Prince loves the Ice Queen?

University series: Heeseung Jungwon Jake Jay

*pairing: pervy ice skating Sunghoon x queen ice skating Girl

*trope: Good boy/Bad girl - oppositive attractive

*synopsis: What would happen when the perfect world of the Ice Prince as well as one of the most famous, cynical and good skating boy of Korea must share its sanctuary as well as the ice chest with a "Bad girl" In all respects that she doesn’t care about the rules and that she likes to tease everyone especially Sunghoon? Sunghoon doesn’t want distractions but despite his ability to not mind those crazy rags, Y/n has a personality that defies every rule, attracting the attention of everyone, especially Sunghoon

*tags: Lots of tension between the two protagonists, they love to tease especially the female protagonist, sexual tension, Sunghoon stalked her on social media, possession, jealousy, fluffy, semi-public masturbation (massage room) (f. receives it) unprotected sex ( don’t horny ppl) pussy drink, pet names (noona,bad girl,doll) (ice prince,hoon,hoonie) Sunghoon is a little shy? a lot of kisses, suck, the girl is a bratty, Sunghoon is a little obsessed with her,Sunghoon is a bit territorial with her but slowly he understands that he likes it both physically and also carraterially because she’s the only one to keep them in front.

9.4k (⛸️)

(English is not my native language)

Sunghoon is already on the ice, as always at the perfect time. He slid with absolute grace, his face impassive while training. The few present observe him with admiration, but the attention of all shifts when the building doors are opened with a blow. A metallic sound echoes as a pair of skates are thrown to the ground with little grace. Sunghoon looked at the entrance of the arena and raised his eyes when he saw you "Y/n, The Ice Queen" the queen with dresses too short for judges, the social media queen while flirting with all her fans, and the queen of the ice rink for 5 years now, you won all the medals and competitions in the country but the only thing that was missing was the elegant behavior that all skaters had. Sunghoon was not at all happy to have to share his kingdom, especially with another "queen" because he was the ice Prince and would soon become the King of the track when he qualified for the Olympics.

"So this is where the legendary Ice Prince trains... What a bore, I was expecting something more impressive."

Sunghoon stopped and turned slowly. In front of him is a girl with her hair gathered in a high tail, the national team jacket thrown over her shoulders with carelessness, and a bold smile on her lips.

'And you would?' he said with a casual attitude, but inside, his heart was beating very fast. He knew who you were actually since he had seen you live five years ago when you were still a teenager stalking all your social networks. He saw all your races and, for a time, saved your TikTok.

"Oh, that’s polite. You should know that already. But let’s pretend... my name is Y/n. Your new training and college companion."

Sunghoon stared at you for a moment, then turned to catch up skating. You raised an eyebrow, amused by his indifference.

"Oh, wow. Not even a 'nice to meet you'?" you thought you were the ice prince, not an iceberg."

Sunghoon stops again, sighs, and looks at you with icy calm.

'If you’re here to train, put on your skates. If you’re here to waste time, the door is that way.'

You laughed at his bad joke, without breaking. You bent down calmly to put on your shoes, watching him from under your cloaks.

"Cold as they say, eh? Who knows if you’re so cold underneath even in more... intimate situations."

Sunghoon barely jerks, but he quickly comes together, clenching his jaw. For the first time, a shade of redness touches his cheeks. You laughed and were satisfied with his reaction.

'You’re here to skate not to flirt with me.'

"Oh, whatever you say, prince. Let’s see if you can keep up."

And with a fluid movement, you jumped on the ice, brushing it with confidence and lightness. Sunghoon watches you for a moment, then he squeezes the blades and leaves, determined to show you who rules on the ice.

He hated you, couldn’t stand you, you were his nightmare, he didn’t tolerate your behavior for 2 weeks now, your cheeky to always arrive late, to flirt with all the guys, and especially to be so beautiful at the same time.

He should not have been there that night.

Sunghoon had stayed longer than expected at the arena, mentally reviewing his routine, seeking perfection as always. But when the music had begun to resound in the empty arena, something within him had shrunk. He thought it was an intruder. An ordinary idiot who had snuck in to play on the ice or one of those idiots from the hockey team; but when his eyes were set on the figure that was gliding naturally under the dim lights, his breath had cut into his throat.

It was you.

Not only were you sneaking - which is already annoying enough and illegal for the rules of the arena - but you were doing it with a magnetic intensity, a raw energy that he had never seen in anyone else. Your blades cut the ice with frightening precision, your body moved with an innate confidence, fluid and dangerously sensual.

Damnation.

Sunghoon instinctively moistened his lips, hiding in the shadows of the grandstands as he watched you. He had seen a lot of your performances live but mostly for TV or on social platforms but you were something else. The outfit you were wearing was tight at the right point, leaving little room for imagination. The way the fabric adhered to your legs, the way your body bent into perfect curves...

He should never have looked at you like that. But he couldn’t turn away.

He always found you annoying. Too cheeky, too casual, too... everything. But on the ice, you were another story. At that moment there were no provocative jokes, nor arrogant smiles. Just you and the ice, one with the aggressive music that resounded in empty walls.

When you landed a triple lutz without the slightest effort, Sunghoon felt an adrenaline rush rushing down his back.

You were one of the best skaters of the new generation and maybe for him, you were the best. It wasn’t just admiration for your technique - no, it was something more dirty, more visceral.

How can she be so damn annoying out of the ice and so... charming on top of it? He wondered as he watched you as a stalker as you danced.

Sunghoon’s fingers clenched. He had to stop looking at you. He should have stopped you, maybe even reprimanded you for breaking the rules, for being a goddamn rebel again.

Yet he remained there, hidden in the shadows, with his heart beating a little too fast and thoughts that he should never have had.

Sunghoon had instinctively stooped behind the balustrade, his heart pounding in his chest. Damnation. He should not have been there. He should not have looked at her like that. And most importantly, he should not have had... that kind of reaction.

But it was too late, when the music stopped you looked up and found yourself a few meters away near the railing that marked the path to enter the ice rink. You whistled lightly and a sharp whistle broke the eerie silence in the cold air, followed by your much too amused laughter.

"Well... who do we have here? Maybe my number one fan pretending to hate and despise me?"

Sunghoon felt himself sinking. Slowly he looked up and found you staring down at him with a satisfied grin, hands resting on your hips as you swung your perfect hairstyle. The black suit stuck to your body after the forbidden skating session, and it did not help the situation in which Sunghoon found himself.

He tried to keep a cool air, but the redness on his cheeks betrayed him. And to make matters worse, he felt the pants become slightly... Luckily the balustrade provided a physical barrier between him and his decidedly uncooperative ego. He was very well equipped to do so.

'Don’t make me laugh. Why should I be a fan?' he mumbled, turning his eyes away from you.

You leaned against the railing, tilting your head slightly as you watched him with those eyes full of mischievous fun.

"Mmmh... I don’t know, maybe because you were staring at me with your mouth slightly open? Did you like the show, huh? Didn’t know you liked sneaking around, Hoonie." You got too close to him for his taste.

Sunghoon held his breath as you leaned over him, until you were a few centimetres from his face and then felt a very slight touch on his mouth. A shiver passed through him when your fingertip touched the bottom of his lips.

"You know while skating earlier, I noticed something nice..." you said whispering with a funny smile.

Sunghoon swallowed, eyes chained to his own, unable to move.

"Your mouth was slightly open... almost as if you were holding your breath." You slightly tilted your head, the finger just tracing the contour of his mouth "Or maybe..." you bit your lip, pretending to reflect

"Maybe you drooled a little? Mh, don’t tell me I left you breathless."

A heat wave hit him hard. Sunghoon felt his jaw clench as his pride was stabbed by those damn provocative words.

Sunghoon almost growling, tightening the balustrade with force not to react instinctively said: 'Do not say bullshit you did a simple performance, nothing special and that I had never seen.'

You woke up slowly, almost amused by his reaction and words. You touched the bottom of the lip with your thumb again, as if you wanted to check if there was something there.

"Nah, you’re fine. No slime... Shame. It would have been nice to see you so vulnerable, Ice Prince." you said in a sweet but mischievous voice.

Sunghoon felt his self-control crumble.

'Stop acting like a rebel you shouldn’t be here at this time, you’re here for 2 weeks and you’ve only brought chaos.'

You chuckled, getting even closer to him. "Hmmm? You didn’t seem like it. You look quite... upset."

Sunghoon swallowed. You were so close now, leaning on the railing with your face a few inches from his. He could smell your slightly sweet scent, in contrast to your bad girl attitude.

And then, without warning, your fingers crept into his soft hair, stroking it with an exasperating slowness. Sunghoon stood still, every muscle tensed like a violin string.

"They’re softer than I thought... very cute, Hoonie." Whispered, with a smile as sweet as it is.

Sunghoon cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep control.

'Stop it, Y/n.' But he didn’t seem to be very convinced by his own words.

And you, of course, did not listen to him and leaned even more, until your face was touched with a warm breath, causing a shiver along his back.

"We have a secret now... Woe to you if someone finds out, I like skating without those silly rules that I have to follow from how many jumps I do or the music I put on; it’s the only time of the day when I can be myself and release all the stress." You said whispering them near his ear now quite red maybe because of the glacial cold inside the arena or maybe because you had teased him enough

Then, with the same grace with which you had skated away. But before you left, you took a small step back and cast a satisfied look at him, purposefully shaking as you left the track.

Sunghoon stood still for a few seconds, unable to move, breathing slightly erratically.

Damn it. You were a problem. Big, damn problem no girl had taunted him so much in his life and who the hell did you think you were?

The party was lively, music resounded through the walls, and the boys laughed and joked while drinking something light. Sunghoon, for once, felt at ease with his friends; it was rare to see him relaxed out of the ice, but in the company of other members of Enhypen and TXT, He could forget for a while the pressure of the track and the upcoming race to qualify for the 2026 Olympics in Italy.

Sunghoon leaned against the counter, sipping his drink. Jake was next to him, talking to Heeseung about nerd video games. He was about to make a distracted comment when a familiar sound and laughter made him turn away instantly.

The voice and laughter of Y/n made him look up to heaven.

Sunghoon frowned, following the sound until he noticed a figure that should not be there. Y/n was friendly chatting with Jake’s girlfriend, laughing with that laugh he knew too well.

But it wasn’t his laughter that was driving him off the road, it was the way you were dressed. A black tight-fitting dress wraps your body perfectly, revealing more than he could bear without feeling the blood rise to his cheeks. Above, a short leather jacket that lets you see the shoulders and a black choker that seems to shout provocation. On the feet, high heels that made your legs infinite.

Sunghoon clears his throat, trying to look away, but his eyes seem to have a will of their own. It felt strangely hot, and it was certainly not because of the crowded pub.

<< Hey, are you all right? >> asked Jake noticing his mood change

Sunghoon looked up, trying to keep his cool

'All right. Just... her.' he nods to you, without hiding the annoyance in her voice.

Jake chuckled, amused by his reaction << Oh, Y/n, the ice queen? Yes, she’s friends with T/N. Didn’t you know?"

Sunghoon sighs deeply, trying to calm down.

How was your friend the sweet girlfriend of one of his best friends? You were the perfect representation of a "bad girl" always in search of rebellion and breaking the rules instead of Jake’s girlfriend was a vlogger where he made reviews of books full of love and cute things!

But when you turned and saw him, the smile painted on your lips made him even more nervous.

"Oh, look who’s here. My dear number-one fan! Don’t tell me you were following me here too, Sunghoon!"

Sunghoon approached with an impassive expression, but his cheeks revealed a slight redness.

'I wasn’t following you. It’s you who appears everywhere, like a problem that doesn’t want to be solved.'

You burst out laughing, completely ignoring his irritated tone "Problem? Interesting choice of words. But... you don’t seem so upset."

You approached him, pretending to fix a tuft of hair, but letting your perfume wrap it. Sunghoon clears his throat again, trying not to look at you, but the short dress and the way your leather jacket exposed your back didn’t make it easy.

Hoon clenched his jaw, looking down at you ' Don’t you think it’s a bit... too much for an evening like this?'

"Too much? Oh, honey, that’s just the minimum. I can’t go around in my skating suits, can I?" You chuckled, leaning nonchalantly against the counter, purposely showing the line of your leg.

Sunghoon felt a shiver down his back. He tried to think of anything else, but the mind played tricks on him, proposing the image of you on the ice, with those same provocative movements.

You came even closer until your fingers touched his arm

"So, Sunghoon. are you going to spend the whole evening sneaking around, or do you want to offer to keep me company? You know, just to show everyone how close we are... on the ice."

Sunghoon took a step back, trying to regain his composure.

"Stop playing and flirt with me is not your pastime. And cover yourself, you’re drawing too much attention," he said in a brusque tone.

You approached his ear, whispering in a low and provocative voice

"Jealous, Hoon? How sweet are you when you’re so protective of a girl older than you!"

You walked away, turning around with a satisfied smile, shaking as you approached the girls' table. Sunghoon follows you with his gaze, unable to decide whether he would like to shout at you and put you in your place or come closer to you again. Sunghoon to himself, biting his cheek

-It’s not jealousy. It’s... control. You just don’t have the slightest sense of decency. Right?-

But a fleeting thought crosses him, warming his face even more. 'Damnation... how can a party become a battlefield?'

Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you, even if he wanted to. He watches you laugh and joke with a tall, brown-haired guy who seems too interested in you for his taste. Every time that idiot comes closer, you laugh louder, leaning towards him with mischievous. And Hoon knew it was obvious that you were doing it to tease him and drive him away.

Indeed, now and then your sparkling eyes would gaze upon Sunghoon, studying him with that brazen smile he knew all too well.

Sunghoon squeezes the glass harder than necessary. What the hell is she doing? And why do I care so much?

The boy leaned towards you, whispering something in your ear. You laughed again, letting your leather jacket slip off your shoulder, revealing your pale skin under the dim lights of the room.

Sunghoon feels the heat rising inside him, like a pressure cooker ready to explode, and in the end, he can’t take it anymore.

He gets up and goes across the room with long, determined steps. When he comes to you, you have understood that your beautiful game of provoking him was bearing fruit, he did not say a word while he looked at you badly: he grabs your wrist gently but firmly and drags you away, leaving the boy with whom you were talking slightly confused.

You were not entirely surprised by his reaction and you were amused, you let yourself be carried away without resistance with a satisfied smile on your lips.

"Hey, where are you taking me, Ice Prince? You don’t seem like the type to grab girls from the pub."

Sunghoon doesn’t respond until he drags you to a more secluded and isolated corner of the room, away from the eyes of others. Then, finally, he looks at you with eyes burning with frustration.

'Stop acting like that.'

You bowed your head, pretending not to understand. "Stop what?"

Sunghoon tightens his jaw. '

To act like this, you don’t need to get the attention of all the guys at the club. You don’t need to flirt with anyone who looks at you.'

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with provocative air.

Flirting? Hey, it’s not my fault I’m beautiful and others notice me. Maybe you should get used to it, hoonie is my specialty flirting and getting everyone’s attention."

You came a step closer, the voice that was lowered to become a whisper.

"And then... who told you I wanted to get all the kids' attention?"

Sunghoon stops for a moment, his breath short as your words hit his stomach like a punch and he looks you in the eye, trying to figure out if you’re joking or not.

'Then what did you want to do?' You smile, this time more softly, and raise your hands to rest on his chest, sculpted tight in a black shirt, where he raises his toned chest. Your little fingers clasp on the tight black shirt, feeling Sunghoon’s irregular heartbeat beneath it.

"I wanted to attract the attention of only one boy... but it seems that he needs a little help to understand."

Before Sunghoon could answer you lifted your toes slightly and put your lips close to his neck. You felt a gentle scent of wild fruits and the smell of some mixed sweat from Hoon’s skin. You started with a light kiss, then another, until you felt him stiff under you, Sunghoon leaned against the wall, unable to move, as the heat spread over his whole body.

"Doll..." The word escapes him before he can stop, and is full of confusion, desire, and a touch of submission that irritates him.

Laugh softly against his skin. "So good, Hoonie. You know how to make me feel important."

Then you went back to leave another kiss on his neck, this time more forceful, sucking him slightly, Sunghoon clenches his teeth, trying to keep control, but every fiber of his body seems to betray him as he puts his big hands in your backside to draw you closer to him.

'N-Noona...' The voice is husky, almost appealing to him, invading you in all senses and you put your breasts into his chest and rubbed them slightly while you continued kissing him, giving little bites to Hoon’s ethereal skin. You wanted to brand him, you wanted them to understand that you understood that he had a little twisted obsession with you and you wanted him to find the next morning a nice gift in his neck, so he would be ashamed but also remember what you were doing.

"You like me so much, Hoon?" you ask, biting your lip with amused air.

Sunghoon looked away, the redness that warms his cheeks and it was lovely to see him so helpless, where was the cynical ice prince who spoke all in the pre or post-race. 'Be quiet.'

You woke up again, stroking his chest with a light touch. "Don’t worry, Hoon. It’s our little secret... remember?"

And with a last kiss on the neck, you slowly drifted away, shaking as you returned to the center of the room, and before you had gone away, you turned around and threw a kiss with your hand. Sunghoon remains motionless, with one hand still on his neck where you had left the mark. His breath is irregular, and in his head, there’s only one thought: I’m fucked.

University ice rink

Sunghoon skated with the usual elegance and precision. Every jump was calculated to the millimeter, every harmonic step. The ice was his kingdom, the place where he never made a mistake, his home, his outlet valve but at the same time of millimetric precision because if you were wrong the ice would not easily forgive you the mistakes. With the upcoming race for the Winter Olympics qualification, he had no time for distractions, had been raised by his family to win at least one Olympic gold medal and he had wanted her since he was 4 years old with all of himself and no one would be able to distract him from his n*1.

Or so he thought.

On the other side of the track you were doing your program, but the stern tone of your coach was getting more and more insistent throughout the block. Many boys and girls were giving you curious looks, all putting you on the pedestal except your coach and maybe the Ice Prince.

Your Coach exasperated yelled at you for the thousandth time that day -Y/n ! Your triple flip is completely off-axis! You have to close the rotation faster, otherwise you will keep landing on the wrong foot.-

Sunghoon turned to you to understand why for over an hour he only heard screams from the opposite side of the ice rink as you attempted to jump again. Your blades incised the ice with initial grace, but then, exactly as before, you misbalanced the rotation and landed in an unstable way, spreading too much the foot of support.

Your coach sighed heavily, reaching her forehead

-I can’t believe you’re still getting this item wrong. You had a perfect landing last week! You lack control and if you behave like this at the race next weekend they will beat all the newbies. Maybe you should look at how Sunghoon does it.-

At those words, Sunghoon felt all the glances on himself. It was not intended to intervene in your training, but certainly could not refuse to show you again who was the best and why everyone called him the ice prince of Korea. He was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly as if it were obvious.

With a fluid movement, he picked up speed and prepared for the triple flip. He had performed that jump countless times, and as expected, the landing was flawless. The dry sound of his blade cutting through the ice resounded in the track, and his posture remained perfect, without any hesitation and some children sitting in the audience looked at him with open mouths.

You crossed your arms, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ugh, what a bore. Ice Prince is perfect as always."

Sunghoon turned to you, noticing the way you were passing your tongue against his lower lip with a pensive look. His coach immediately pressed you:

-Did you see it? It must be so! Try again until you do not exactly will not leave the hut.-

You sighed, then went back to the track and prepared for the jump and Sunghoon watched you carefully as he was speeding.

One Over. Three steps. Spin... and then a wrong landing again.

One more time.And again. And again. After the fourth consecutive mistake, your coach gasped exasperately and shook her head.

-What’s wrong today?! You’re distracted by nothing! Maybe Sunghoon should follow you step by step. Maybe his discipline will teach you something, I always told you that it is an extremely good example to take even if he is two years younger than you is the representation of perfection.-

Sunghoon felt a slight discomfort. He had never trained anyone and with you... it would not be easy. But then his eyes came on you, there was something strange.

You were wrong, of course, but the way you did it... it was not random. Your posture was too relaxed, your landing almost deliberately imperfect. Your mistakes seemed... controlled and Sunghoon opened his eyes.

Wait a minute... is she doing it on purpose? He thought as he looked at you, he looked better as you prepared for the umpteenth attempt, but there was a shadow of a smile on your lips and when you were wrong again, your gaze fell directly upon him.

Sunghoon crossed his arms, his eyebrow slightly ruffled as he watched you skate with an innocent air.

"Oops. I’m really bad today, huh?"

Sunghoon felt a shiver of discomfort mixed with... more. Why, damn it, were you looking at him like that? As if you were enjoying seeing his reaction?

He approached you slightly, lowering his voice in a barely audible tone.

'Stop acting like a child, you know I’ve figured it out you’re doing it on purpose right?'

You flashed your fake eyes surprised by his words, putting a hand on your chest with theatrical air "I? Why should I?"

Sunghoon looked at you. "Because you are impossible and love to attract the attention of everyone."

You chuckled, with a smirk as it bites your lip "Or maybe I like to attract the attention... of someone in particular."

Sunghoon felt a sudden heat rise to his head. His heart made a small leap in the chest, but immediately recovered and passed a hand through his hair, exasperated, while you threw him a last mischievous look before returning to the center of the track. Sunghoon turned to the coach, trying to look as impassive as possible.

-Can you follow her around for a few laps? Maybe learn something from yourself. -

Sunghoon nodded reluctantly but as he approached you, he couldn’t help thinking that once again you had found a way to make him play by your rules. And the worst? He was falling for it.

The hot shower water was running on Sunghoon’s skin, loosening the tension of his muscles after a grueling workout, the race for the qualifiers was close and he had to be perfect and flawless as always. No mistakes, no hesitation, no distractions, and with the head focused only on skating.

He passed a hand through his wet hair, sighing but nevertheless, his mind kept returning to something or rather, a person, you were now fixed in his thoughts and every day was a continuous struggle against himself not to fall into your trap.

You were the representation of the girl from whom he had to stay away because you were a rebel but also because you would mess with your problems.

You stayed to try the program even after everyone had left. Stubborn as you were, you wouldn’t give up until you had executed that damn double Lutz perfectly. Leaving the locker room Sunghoon with his hair still wet and a towel saw you there again, alone, your body moved towards the track to perform all the sequence of your race program: steps, transitions, trotters... Everything is perfect, except for that damn double Lutz.

Once again. And another time. And another time.

Unstable landing.

Wrong landing.

Failed to land.

Sunghoon leaned on the railing, watching you. You had your hair in a mess, your breath in a stupor and your eyes burning with frustration yet you kept going until you heard a dull noise: your body falling on the ice and then, the sound of a broken breath you were in the middle of the track, Collapsed on the ice with hands covering your face while you were breathing hard and crying like a little girl.

Without thinking twice, he ran to the locker room and quickly put his shoes back on. He returned to the track and slipped towards you, stopping by his trembling body, Sunghoon knelt beside you and with a firm but gentle tone said to you:   

'That’s enough for tonight.'

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with tears and full of frustration and with a broken voice, trying to keep control of the screams.

" It’s not your business, Hoon. I don’t need a babysitter, let alone a kid who thinks he knows everything."

Those words struck Sunghoon but they did not make him back, instead, he leaned down towards you and gently took your arms, trying to help you get up.

'Won’t leave you here to destroy you. No sense, tomorrow is another day and I’m sure you’ll do well.'

"I said I don’t need you!" Sunghoon wavered for a moment, but then his face hardened and he took you firmly by the hips, lifting you and you watched him with surprise as you tried to wriggle again but he wouldn’t let go.

'Stop treating me like a kid! I’m trying to help you, Y/n!' and he came closer, his face a few centimeters from yours. 'You’re not invincible. I know you’re tired. I know it hurts. But you don’t have to face it alone.'

You were stuck and your hands pressed weakly against Sunghoon’s chest but your voice seemed to have broken.

He looked at you with intensity, his dark eyes fixed on yours, and at that moment something inside it surrendered.

With a sudden surge of emotions - anger, frustration, but also a deep desire - he lowered his face towards you and kissed you.

At first, the kiss was hard, full of tension and anger. His hands were holding your hips tightly as if he was trying to make you understand how frustrated he was. But then, slowly, the kiss changed. He became sweeter, slower. His lips moved with a delicacy that contrasted with the initial fury as if he wanted to convey to you everything that he had not been able to say with words.

You were initially surprised but found yourself returning the kiss immediately and your hands relaxed on Sunghoon’s chest, sliding towards his shoulders and feeling the warmth of his body, the way he held you, and he understood that he was not only there to judge you or prove himself better. He was there for you. When you two separated, you were out of breath. Sunghoon looked at you and his breath was irregular and his cheeks were red.

"I’m not your enemy, Y/n. And stop treating me like one. I can be what you need... if you let me."

You looked at him for a moment, still confused by the emotions that had overwhelmed you. Then, with a light tired smile, you shook your head.

"You’re too perfect for me, Hoonie. I’m complicated and sooner or later everyone leaves."

But Hoon did not move from you and gently smeared a cheek on your face and pulled a strand of hair from your face.

'I like complicated things Y/n, otherwise, I would not have chosen to base my whole life on skating!'

Hoon came near you again and this time it was you who took him by the collar of the sweatshirt and slammed your lips in his, his hands went to lean into the tight of your leggings, Hoon wanted to hear you all by himself and he got a slight moan when you put your tongue in his mouth and at the same time pulled his hair. When you left for a moment you looked at him with a mischievous smile and whispers, with a roaring voice and full of intention:

"Hoonie... don’t you think this is a little too exposed?"

Sunghoon stared at you, puzzled, as his gaze wandered towards the empty runway.

"The massage room is right there. How about that?" you said with a slight whistle, pointing to the door behind them.

He hesitated for a moment. He had always followed the rules, and always kept control but with you every barrier seemed to collapse. At last, he nodded slowly, taking your hand and leading you to the closet.

The massage room was small and poorly lit, with a padded bed in the middle and some shelves full of towels and oils. The door closed behind you with a slight click.

Sunghoon turned to you, you quickly approached, holding his waist and pulling him for another kiss. This time it was you who took control, your lips moving with confidence as your hands slid under Sunghoon’s sweatshirt.

"This sweatshirt looks good on you, but... I think it’s better on the ground."

Before Sunghoon could answer you pulled the sweatshirt in one fluid movement, revealing his tight t-shirt and his well-defined chest, and wasted no time: your lips moved along his neck, Leaving small kisses and slight bites that made Sunghoon shiver.

'Noona...' The word slipped from his lips without him being able to control it you stopped for a moment, looking at it with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

"Noona, huh? You like to call me that, Hoonie?" you chuckled laying your hands on his chest and drawing little circles with your fingers.

Sunghoon determined not to let you have complete control, grabbed your legs and lifted you with ease, making you sit on the massage table. You looked at him surprised by the force with which he had moved it, but you did not have time to say anything. Sunghoon’s hands lay on your hips, squeezing them lightly as he approached you again.

'Do you think you’re the only one who knows how to tease, Noona?'

Smiles, but your breath was speeded up when he felt Sunghoon’s hands slipping into your leggings, stopping just above the fabric of your panties and you looked him in the eye, challenging him to continue.

"Prove it to me, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon did not make him repeat it twice. Your hands moved along Sunghoon’s shoulders, pulling his shirt up. When the shirt fell to the floor your fingers explored her chest with a light touch and full of curiosity.

"So perfect, like an ice prince, but with so much fire inside." You chuckled as your kisses descended on Sunghoon’s neck

Sunghoon shivered at his touch, but he was not willing to let you have the last word. With a sudden move, his hands fell on her hips and she took off your leggings with a brusque movement and found you only in panties.

'You... you’re the queen who knows how to make me lose my head but let’s see if today it will be you to lose your head for me, doll'

Hoon gently laid you in the cot and you obeyed immediately and leaned slightly lying on the edge of the cot he started to touch your thighs lightly until he touched the fabric of the panties and when he moved it slightly he saw that you were already Excited only for him.                           

'So pretty' cursed Hoon licking the finger he had just touched, 'Sweet as I imagined' moaned, fingers going on your clitoris to feel more of your moisture.

He moved slowly, sliding his finger over your swollen clitoris and rounding it through the fabric of her panties. There is an intense amount of heat rising between you two. The way you are positioned with him, his large frame that traps you between the edge of the cot, and his big hand pushing inside you doesn’t help you feel any less aroused. You can feel it becoming slippery the more pressure it puts on your clitoris. " Please...I need more", you murmured as if you were embarrassed by your own words.

'Since you’re so shy to ask this kind of thing Y/n?' Hoon has been looking at you and thinking about you like that for months. Let his finger get in and slide as you take off your panties, now pressing directly on your lump. Your back bows because it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world but also because you were waiting for him to do more "Hoonie.." whimpering. He looks up from your pussy and is so happy to hear his nickname comes out of your lips in that position and sees your thighs twitch; you cried when he added another finger, Pushing it in and then pulling it out until only the tips of his fingers remained inside.

After a while he started making circles on your clitoris, repeating the action and licking his fingers before returning to work, he wanted you to come with lips that shouted his name because there would be no other guy and from that moment you were hers.

"Fuck" you moaned when he increased the pace of his fingers fucking you. His fingers worked so well, and you never doubted that he had talent when you looked at his beautiful hands with those super long, tapered fingers that were hammering you at the time and making you come.

Sunghoon saw your orgasm coming, your chest moving heavily up and down as tears stung your eyes, and he had to show you that even though you said he was smaller than you were he was the one making you have an orgasm in an almost semi-public area.

Your stomach was twitching and your legs were filled with chills, you felt your orgasm approaching quickly. You tried to warn him, but it took a clever movement of your bud with his thumb to push you over the edge. Your body trembled at the intensity of your orgasm, his nails stuck in his tufts of hair, Hoon put a finger around his lips and sucked it in front of you and saw how his smile was a little shy? But at the same time proud to have made you come, his big hands pushed you to sit down and he drew his forehead with yours while you were still breathing slightly exhausted.

You would never have imagined that he was so good and an unhealthy idea took hold in your mind and with courage you asked him: "Do you know what I think? We could be... friends with benefits. Would you like it, Hoonie? No complications, just fun."

The words came out as a challenge, but you didn’t expect the reaction that Sunghoon had, he stopped completely for an instant and then started to laugh, a deep and warm laughter that resounded in the closet. You looked at him in surprise and you punched him lightly on the chest.

"What’s so funny? I’m not serious enough for you?"

Sunghoon stopped laughing and leaned back towards you, this time taking your face in his hands and looking at you with a determination he had never seen before.

Sunghoon with a firm and serious voice told you. 'Noona, don’t get me wrong... but if you think for one second that I want to be just a friend with benefits, you’re mistaken.'

You slightly flashed your eyes, surprised by the strong tone of his voice.

'I want more. I want you. I want you to be mine and not of anyone else, if you can’t accept it, then tell me now but don’t ask me to be anything less because I know that underneath you like me and don’t make it difficult because I see how you look at me, Y/n."

Hoon’s words left you breathless. For a moment you just looked at him, trying to figure out if he was really serious. Then you smile, a sincere and slightly embarrassed smile something rare for you.

"I didn’t know you had so much passion, Hoonie, and that you were so territorial with me," you said in a whisper, as your hands slid down Sunghoon’s chest.

'Told you, doll. When I want something... I don’t give up and it must be mine and no one else’s.'

And with those words, your lips met again, but this time with a new intensity. There was no more hesitation, no more games.

The racing noise filled the arena you were sitting in a corner, on a bench with headphones firmly on your ears. The music was supposed to help you calm down but the knot in your stomach didn’t seem to melt.

That hateful little pastel dress made you feel out of place. It wasn’t dates, it didn’t represent who you were on the ice but to qualify for the Olympics that day you had to act like a doll. You wanted to dominate the track with intense colors, with clothes that spoke of your true essence: passion, strength, sensuality. Instead, here you are wrapped in a layer of blue dress that made you feel more fragile than you wanted to admit.

Immersed in your thoughts, you did not immediately notice the figure that had entered the room. Only when you felt a light touch to your ears, he pulled you back. The headphones slipped away, and there was Sunghoon in front of you.

'It seems that our Queen Ice is not so sure of herself today.'

You puffed crossing your arms, but the fast beat of your heart betrayed you, Sunghoon was beautiful with his impeccable black suit and some silver decoration on his shoulders, his hair was extremely fluffy and his sissy didn’t light up anything good. Sunghoon’s touch had been so gentle, almost affectionate, and now he looked at you with that typical ice prince expression: unflappable, but with a gleam in his eyes betraying something else.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine."

Sunghoon lowered his face a little, bringing it close to yours. One of his hands lifted and with the back of his fingers touched your cheek and you felt the heat rise immediately, but you tried desperately to remain impassive.

'Oh? Then why are your cheeks so red?' he said giggling

You stiffened for a moment and then, with your usual sharp tongue, I answered: "It’s just for the cold, stupid. You should know we’re an ice-box."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his reply. 'Really? Too bad we’re indoors, Noona.'

You felt your ears go up in flames. He was too close, too sure of himself that day, and it made you crazy. You tried to maintain your usual confidence, but couldn’t help biting the inside of your cheek, a sign that you were more nervous than usual.

Sunghoon watched you in silence for a few seconds, then with a sweetness that completely shocked you slid a lock of hair behind your ear.

'You don’t have to be nervous, you know? I bet you’ll beat everybody out there and qualify for the Olympics with an absurd score.'

His voice was so warm, so reassuring, that for a moment you forgot to provoke him and felt a shiver running down your back, but it wasn’t just because of the cold of the track.

"I’m not nervous. And I don’t need you to be my babysitter or my supporter anyway." Sunghoon smiled and walked away, leaving you with his heart gone mad. But then, with a suddenly darker look, he stared at you again, barely tilting his head.

'Okay, okay. But if you need me...' (came closer once more, his voice lowered to touch your ear) '... you know where to find me, Noona.'

You tried to answer with a sour joke, but he interrupted you with a lower, more dangerous whisper.

And Sunghoon with a sure smile continued saying 'And who knows... maybe, if you do well today...' (he stopped for a second, letting the silence full of tension make you crazy, then tilted his face even more, until he touched your jaw with his lips) 'and if you behave during the race, tonight... I’ll make you mine.'

You stared for a moment, the breath-stopping in your throat. Sunghoon’s voice had been soft, slow, insinuating. The way he said it, without any hesitation, as if it were a fact, made you vibrate inside.

You saw him lift his chin with a satisfied air before moving away, leaving you there, weak legs and heart pounding.

"Damn Ice Prince..." you said, biting your lip to hold a smile.

You were staring at the ceiling of your room, still incredulous. You had won. You had made that damn jump to perfection and qualified for the Olympics but what kept coming back in your head was not the echo of the public in delirium or the congratulations of the coach.

It was the voice of Sunghoon.

"If you behave tonight I’ll make you mine."

Those words had made you miss a heartbeat. Was it serious? Or was it just a provocation to motivate her?

You put a hand in your hair, still in the outfit from home: oversized sweatshirt and short shorts. You couldn’t deny it during the whole award ceremony you had looked for him with your eyes and you exchanged a friendly glance, but nothing more. Sunghoon had disappeared soon after, busy with the celebrations with his team.

"Tsk. I knew it, just a provocation." you thought, sighing."

You were about to get up to fetch water when the bell rang and you flashed your eyes. Who the hell could it be at that time?

With your heart beating harder, you approached the door and opened it without thinking too much.

And there, in front of you was Sunghoon.

Slightly damp hair, a sign that he had just taken a quick shower. The unbuttoned jacket and the suit pants fell perfectly on his athletic physique. But above all... that look. A look that instantly melted you.

You didn’t even give him time to say a word. Without thinking, you grabbed him by the collar of your jacket and lured him inside, closing the door with one foot before kissing him with all the intensity that you had held for days. Sunghoon was not surprised, but he kissed back without hesitation, immediately squeezing you by the hips and pushing you against the entrance wall.

The kiss was hungry, deep, full of all that had not been said until then and Sunghoon’s hands moved on your back, making you shiver.

You just took off, short of breath, dark eyes fixed in his.

"So it wasn’t just a phrase thrown there to motivate me, huh?"

Sunghoon smiled, looking down at your still-wet lips. Then he looked back at you intensely.

'Noona, do you really think I would say something like that without wanting it?'

Sunghoon wrapped your legs around his pelvis and you kept biting his neck and groaning him until he sat in your big bed you eagerly took off his sweatshirt and did the same with yours, his hands immediately went to tease your breasts full already turgid and began to tease the buds of your breasts now sensitive and you continued to run through his chest tonic with your hands and at the same time to lay kisses and mark it on the neck. An involuntary groan of satisfaction slipped from your throat as you felt Hoon tickling with one hand the entrance of your short, crisp shorts, feeling how his cold hands ran along the edge of your panties, and with a surge of safety you moved your hips, A light and insecure movement at first, but which made Hoon sigh against its length still fully covered. Hoon’s reactions were what you needed to continue and you turned your hips harder, making him throw his head backward against the padded keyboard of your bed; His eyes darkened when he saw you biting your lips and with glazed eyes he made you rise slowly from his legs and slid the short shorts down your legs.

"What are you planning to do me Park Sunghoon or Ice Prince" you said to ask between kisses and deep sighs.

'Thou shalt find out' murmur against thy lips. 'And thou shall love every second of what I will do to thee this evening. You felt your legs tremble and you rubbed against him even harder, making him moan softly and bite your lips hard. Hoon stopped your hips, pushing you down a little lower than it was enough to unlace his pants and a slight moan came out of your lips when you saw his Calvin Klein boxers slightly wet in the middle.

Hoon slipped his hand back into your panties, the tips of his fingers slowly crawling over the thin tissue tickling you.

"Hoon" moans.

'Tell me what you want' he mumbled against your mouth.  

'You must tell me, doll. Where’s the cheeky girl I met a couple of months ago?'

At that moment he liked to be a bit of a provocative asshole, finding fun in the way you react and your body trembled at his touches. Sunghoon slips your panties off and her finger finally makes contact with your clitoris.

"Please" you tried again, refusing to say it out loud.

'Doll I want you to tell me, use your beautiful little mouth to talk!'

"Hoon, please..." you started but failed again as he felt you now your shiny and excited pussy

"Poor ice queen, you can’t even use the words are you so desperate to have me?..." he made fun of you for all those times when he felt trapped with you

"Park Sunghoon, I swear to God if you..." your words were interrupted by a moan when he stuck his middle finger in your wet pussy, smiled when he saw you fight again with the words, Only because of him and was definitely a real booster for his ego.

'If I...?' suggested, provoking you again as he slid a second finger, bending it to hit that specific point that makes you tremble and writhe in his ears due to the stretching. You leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest and hiding your face in the hollow of his neck.

You felt a knot forming in the lower abdomen and bit his shoulder to relieve the sensation, moving your hips alone, chasing the peck he was giving you as he pumped and curled his long fingers against you.

Your groans became louder and more frequent, and Hoon took them as an incentive to go faster, always aiming for the point where you would react in the way he liked.

"Hoonie, more please" His name-related groans left your lips and you stuck your nails harder in his shoulders.

'Come for me doll' he whispered in your ear as you came, his name left your mouth like a song, while your body became even hotter and ready to have his cock inside of you. Hoon kept moving his fingers, slower this time to help you get off your high; When you relaxed a moment with slightly trembling hands you looked at him carefully and made a nod to you with the head and pulled out his cock that came proudly to his hips. His red tip shone for the pre-ejaculate, the veins sticking out on the skin, making you tighten your pussy excited, you were as unfocused as it was perfect his cock and you ran your tongue in your lips.

You grabbed his cock by aligning it with your pussy. You went down slowly, holding your breath as you felt it opening you inch by inch. His hands grabbed your hips harder, pushing you down to help you keep moving.

'Fuck you’re so tight, Y/n.' Groaned when he reached the bottom. Despite the urgency that Hoon felt to move, he remained motionless so you could adapt to his size. Groaning for the discomfort, not being accustomed to its size, but somehow the initial stretching was quite pleasant and you felt it already almost completely inside you have raised your hips, you waited a while trying to prepare yourself emotionally and you lowered yourself again slowly Hoon closed his eyes and bit hard on his lip. He wanted to take things at your own pace, but he seriously needed to take you and he roared slowly with the need to destroy you and have you all to himself.

You accelerated little by little, gaining confidence as you moved, but it wasn’t enough yet and your thighs were burning with effort. You tried to go ahead, wanting more grunts and whimpers from Sunghoon but you were extremely excited but at the same time tired when you felt him get inside your pussy all the way.

'What’s the matter, Noona?' he asked, caressing your hair to comfort you.

"Tired.... I need to have you inside me but you must take the reins" you whispered. After a few seconds of silence, you heard him laugh.

"The ice queen maybe a little spoiled wants me to do all the work? Where is the cheeky girl who teased me every day? '

"Please, Hoonie"

Sunghoon pulled himself out of you and he put you leaning on your pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down so that you could kiss him again and surround his waist with your legs. Hoon can only think of how you will be his death, but that moment does not last long because he is pushing again inside you and this time he is seriously in charge and his pushes are not at all delicate.

Groaning louder, feeling it deeper than before until he felt his hand lay in your stomach and with a grin said to you 'Look how you’re taking me at this moment Noona, I’m hammering you so deep in' groans at his words and also by the intensity of how your pussy could take her cock divinely.

"More, Hoon" you asked and he happily acquiesced to your whining.

He holds your thigh, puts it over his shoulders, and places an arm on the bed’s keyboard to support himself, going even deeper. You feel your intoxication coming for the second time that night and unintentionally you get around him, making him growl and go harder.

You pulled his hair, coming again and this time Hoon followed you, pouring his sperm inside you. The feeling was overwhelming, something you had never felt before and did not imagine feeling so soon, much less not being in a relationship with this person that made you crazy every day.

You were lying beside Sunghoon, breathing still as you tried to recover, and could not believe how intense that moment was, like every touch, every look, and pierced heart. You sunflower on your side to look at him: he was leaning against the pillow, his hair disordered and his chest that rose and fell regularly, with an expression of satisfaction but also of quiet sweetness.

"You know... I didn’t expect you to be like this."

Sunghoon turned to you, eyebrow slightly raised.

'So how?' he said with amused

You looked down while playing with his hands.

"So... real. You were the only one who didn’t treat me like I was made of glass. As if I was something to protect, to keep away from too strong emotions or too intense moments."

Sunghoon looked at you intensely, his dark eyes looking for yours.

"With you, I felt human. You looked at me as if I wasn’t afraid to break. As if... as if I was enough, just as I am."

Those words struck Sunghoon more deeply than he had expected. He approached you by running a hand through your hair and then gently stroking your cheek.

'Y/n, you’re anything but fragile. You’re strong, stubborn and... honestly, you drive me crazy. But that’s what I like about you."

Blush, but do not look away, captured by the sincerity in his voice.

'It’s not now that I like you. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at you, thinking how different you are from anyone else. And... I’m glad you’re mine now. That we are... us.'

Those last words made your heart overflow and you came closer to him, clinging to his chest as you felt a heat enveloping you completely.

"I’m happy too, Hoonie. And... I promise I won’t stop driving you crazy." 'No doubt, Noona. But know that I will never back down. You are mine, and I’m not going to let you go.' he said with a smile.

Comments and rebblog are appreciated:)

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[francisofthespook]

Bed Chem

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, nothing too explicit

Word Count: 3195

Setting: Alexandria, Pre-Negan

A/N: Hi guys I'm super excited about this oneeeee ! When I first started writing for Daryl I had this idea in mind and it was what inspired me to start writing again. I waited a bit to write this, I had been working it out in my head and trying to figure out where to take it but Daryl is so Bed Chem coded in my head and you can't tell me otherwise. I hope y'all like it :)))

(Moderately proofread, but I will probably still go back in and edit it later lol)

(( I made the borders :) ))

“I don't know… I think it's too much,” you said as you turned around, holding out the ends of the dress with your hands. “Girl, are you kidding? You look amazing, you have to wear it!” With an exasperated breath, you turned and looked at yourself in the full-length mirror again. You looked at Rosita in the reflection and gave her a small smile before admiring the dress again.

It was super cute, but you felt it was too much for the small party. You ran your fingers along the ruching at the neck, pinching and pulling at the buttery smooth fabric and trying to pull it up so it wasn't too low. The sheer blue baby doll dress fell to your mid-thigh and had off-the-shoulder puff sleeves high enough to show off your tattoos. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the bow at the center of the neckline before facing the girls again. “Okay fine.”

Maggie and Rosita quietly squealed in excitement at your defeat. “You guys look so pretty,” You marveled at your two friends. “Thanks to you! I had no idea you were hiding these gems in your closet.” Maggie said with a wink. 

It may have been dumb, but you had a thing for collecting cute dresses while out on runs. You knew that they would likely never get worn, but you kept them tucked away in the back of your closet in hopes that one day the world would be normal enough that a situation would arise where you could finally wear them. This was kinda one of those situations.

Alexandria had been your ‘home’ for the past two years. You had stumbled upon Aaron while searching for a new campsite, and ever since then you had been happy to call yourself an ‘Alexandrian’. Life had been pretty normal, nothing like it used to be, but normal enough. Until Rick’s group arrived.

Something about these people felt different, you could just tell they had been through it. They all seemed pretty unsure at first, not wanting to trust that this place could be real. But slowly, they began to let their walls down and accept that this was a safe place. Well, as safe as it could be. 

It was Deanna’s idea to have this little party. Although the newcomers had been settling in, it was still very obvious that there was a divide. In hopes of blurring that line, Deanna suggested that we throw a party. Her thinking was that if we all got together and had a good time, we would feel more ‘unified’ as a people. You had been trying on your own to make friends with the newcomers, and Maggie and Rosita were the most receptive to your attempts at friendship. 

You had been hanging out with them for about a week now, and anyone who didn’t know you guys would have thought you had been friends since birth. Something about the two girls just resonated with you, you understood each other in ways that the others couldn't. So you were more than happy to share your small collection of dresses with them when the party was announced. 

“What are we waiting for, let's go!” Maggie announced, and the three of you did final looks in the mirror before walking over to Deanna’s house. 

The house was more packed than you had ever seen it before. The three of you squeezed your way in and found a spot in the far corner of the living room. Soft music was playing over the speakers as everyone mingled. It warmed your heart to see everyone finally opening up, and you hoped that this would lead to strong bonds between the two groups. 

“I’m gonna go find Abraham,” Rosita said, leaning in before continuing “Show off my cute dress.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I gotta go find Glenn too, see what he thinks of mine,” Maggie said with a smile. “I have a feeling you guys won't be at this party much longer…” You said, laughing. “We’ll be sure to come find you before we leave,” Rosita replied, giving you a playful shove. “You sure you’re okay on your own for a bit?” You looked over to Maggie, rolling your eyes. “Guys, I'll be fine, you go have fun! I’m gonna get a drink” The three of you gave each other small waves as you went your separate ways.

You made your way over to the makeshift bar, waving and saying small hellos to the people you passed. The options were limited, but you grabbed a bottle of cheap champagne and some orange juice to make yourself a mimosa. Taking a sip, you turned around to go look for Aaron, but as you turned you bumped into someone. The stranger reached out and grabbed your shoulder to help steady you before you fell. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!”

The stranger let his hand linger on your shoulder for a second before he seemed to realize what he was doing. He swiftly removed his hand and took a step back, grunting “S’fine.” You didn’t recognize this man. He definitely wasn’t from Alexandria, you would have recognized him. But you didn’t recognize him from Rick’s group either. The man rubbed the back of his neck with his hand while looking down at his shoes, he seemed a bit shy. “Are you from Rick’s group? I haven't seen you around…” He hesitantly made eye contact with you and nodded. “Yea.”

He had a certain aura to him that left you needing to know more. He was handsome, in a rugged way. Not usually the type of guy that you would have gone for in the old world, but you couldn't help admiring this man. He had a sharp jawline, long dark brown locks, and the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen. His sleeveless jacket showed off his tanned arms that were muscular, but not in an overwhelming way. You never liked guys that were too muscular. And not to mention his accent, god the few words you heard from his thick southern drawl began to make your head buzz. 

You were about to ask him his name when you heard Aaron from the end of the bar, “Hey man! You get lost?” Both you and the stranger looked over to Aaron, and he gestured for the man to come over. Aaron noticed you and said, “Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?” You smiled at him, “No not at all!” 

The stranger turned and gave you a small smile and a nod before walking over to Aaron. As he walked away, you were brushed by his scent. Pine, smoke, and sweat lingered in a cloud around you for a few seconds before it finally dissipated. You watched him walking away for a moment before your senses returned to you and you realized you never got his name. 

“Wait, what's your-” He was too far away to hear you at this point. You were left in a daze, craving in the absence of his scent. You were broken from your trance when  you saw Rosita walk up to the bar from the corner of your eye. Without letting him leave your sight, you tapped Rosita on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey, who’s the cute boy with the black jacket and the thick accent?” The man was out of your line of sight now, and you turned to see a confused Rosita. “Huh?” You pointed in the direction of where you last saw him, “The cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad,” you held up your arms and flexed to imply his muscular ones. 

Rosita looked at you now with a dumbfounded look, she laughed a bit before saying, “ You mean, Daryl?” Suddenly, you felt a bit embarrassed. Maybe he had a girlfriend or something... “I don’t know, I guess…” You said cautiously. She laughed again, “It’s nothing… he’s just… Daryl?” She looked at you and shrugged. You leaned in close and whisper-yelled “What is that supposed to mean?” She turned her attention to her drink and said nonchalantly, “I don’t know, he’s just… a little reserved. ‘Rough around the edges’ maybe?” It felt like there was something she wasn’t telling you.

“If he’s unavailable or whatever you can just tell me” Rosita looked back at you. “Honestly girl, I don't think that man is interested in like…anything.” She said, shrugging again and taking a sip of her drink. “Huh. Okay then.” Feeling a bit defeated, you took a few sips of your own drink while you and Rosita made light conversation. The rest of the night you caught yourself discreetly scanning the room, in search of Daryl.

A few days later, you were sitting on your porch, waiting for Maggie to come over after she got off her watch shift. The sun was setting, painting the houses in warm orange hues. You swayed back and forth in the rocking chair while nursing the cigarette you held between your fingers. In the distance, you could see a figure walking in your direction. As it got closer, you recognized it. It was him. You tried to work up the courage to say something, to just shout out ‘hello’ at the least, but your heart was racing and you couldn't find the courage.

When he reached the front of your house, he glanced over at you. “Hey.” He said with a small wave as he continued walking. “Hey.” You responded in a shaky voice. Before he got any further away, you took one last drag and stood up. Walking to the edge of the railing, you leaned over it and shouted, “Wait!” He slowed his pace and turned around, taking a few small steps toward you. He remained silent as he stared at you expectantly. “You uh- you never told me your name.” 

He looked around briefly, almost like he couldn't believe you were talking to him. “Daryl.” Of course, you already knew that. But it was nice just to hear his voice, even if it was just for the duration of one single word. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a cheesy grin. “Well, it was nice meeting you the other night, Daryl.” 

He chuckled to himself, “You too.” You might be wrong, but you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch up in the slightest. “I’m (Y/N).” You were sure you sounded a bit goofy, but the scene you found yourself in felt like something out of a movie. The burning sky set his skin aglow, softening his rough edges. Certainly, this wasn’t the Daryl Rosita was talking about? 

He quietly repeated your name to himself, “(Y/N).” like he was testing the feel of it in his mouth. The way your name sounded in his drawl had you feeling out of breath. Am I really that easy? Is all it takes just for him to say my name to get me going? You felt like you were in middle school again, staring at your crush from across the lunch room, swooning over the way he opened a water bottle. Except this time, you were being acknowledged, the way he looked at you made you feel like he really saw you. 

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it felt comfortable, like a warm blanket. Until you heard your name being called out in the other direction. “Hey! We still on for tonight?” You looked to your left to see Maggie approaching you, wine bottle in hand. “Yeah yeah, I was just having a smoke while I waited for you, I-” You turned back to look at Daryl, but he had already turned around and started walking away. “I just uh- You ready?” You stuttered to her, hoping she hadn’t picked up how caught off guard you were.

“Alright, spill.” You looked up from your seat on the couch to find Maggie handing you a glass as she sat down on the other end. “What?” You blurted out. She rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her wine. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). I saw you talking to Daryl as I was walking up.” You played it off as casually as you could. “Oh, that was nothing we just-he just- we uh met the other night. At the party.” She gave you a look that told you she wasn’t fully convinced yet. “And…?” This time, you took a big sip of your glass before continuing.

“When I was getting a drink, I almost tripped and he caught me.” You looked down into your glass, swirling the blood-red liquid as if you hoped words would appear and tell you what to say. “I never got his name so…” You took another sip. “When I saw him walking by this afternoon, I stopped him and asked him.” Maggie nodded, looking off to the side in thought. “It was just…kinda weird I guess.” You felt your heart rate pick up again. “Weird, how?” You took another sip and you could feel yourself getting the slightest bit dizzy.

“Well, the way he looked at you…I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.” You reached over to the coffee table in front of you and refilled your glass, offering the bottle to Maggie after you did so. She took it from you and topped off her own glass. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She finally looked back at you and you saw the wide smirk on her face. “Oh, it’s definitely a good thing.” The two of you burst out laughing and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your cheeks.

3 glasses in you found yourself oversharing with Maggie. Your skin felt hot, your head light, and your cheeks warm with a tinge of pink. The two of you spilled details from past relationships and regrettable one-night stands. It wasn’t long until the conversation circled back to Daryl. “You should really talk to him.” You hid your face behind your hands, your glass long forgotten on the coffee table. “What if he thinks I’m being too forward!” You laughed at Maggie, “I wouldn’t even know what to say!” 

Maggie stood up from the couch, sticking her hands out beside her to help keep balance. “You go like this,” She stumbled to you and leaned over, putting one hand on your shoulder. “Cum right on me. I mean-Camaraderie!” Maggie fell to her knees in front of you laughing harder than you had ever seen her do before. You too, could not stop the laughing fit that ensued. Leaning over with a hand on your stomach, as tears left your eyes from the force of the giggles. 

You looked down at her, feigning doe eyes and now placing your hand on her shoulder. In your sweetest voice, you said, “Where are thou? Why not uponeth me?” It felt like you two laughed for hours.

After the initial high from the wine started to cool off, the two of you lounged on the couch, knees bent and facing each other. You were trying to come up with serious ways to try and get Daryl’s attention. “Don’t tell Glenn I said this, but I always thought Daryl was kinda handsome.” She tried to hide her small grin with her hand. “See! You get it!” She nodded in response. You looked at her and in a more serious tone you told her, “I bet we’d have really good bed chem.” She hummed in agreement. You started to slightly daze off as you imagined it.

“I just want him to pick me up, pull ‘em down, and turn me around” Maggie tried to bite back her chuckle. “What?” You turned back to her grinning. She narrowed her eyes and said, “I bet he talks real sweet while he’s doing bad things.” Just the thought of it had you out of breath. You groaned in frustration. Putting your head in your hands and shaking it while laughing you muttered, “I'm just manifesting that he’s oversized.” She laughed, “Honey, I don’t think you need to manifest that.” You looked over at her and groaned again, “Maggie, I think I’m obsessed.”

The next few days you were in your head about what to do. You couldn’t find the right time or place to talk to Daryl, but you knew you needed to. Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of him and it was starting to physically affect you. The most frustrating part was that you knew it would be even better than in your head. But just the fragment that you could imagine, based on how little you knew him, was better than any of your wildest fantasies. 

You had decided you were going to try and talk to him today. He had been going back and forth to Hilltop for various reasons, and his absence had given you the courage to approach him before he left again today. At least if things don’t go well, I won't have to see him for a few days. You checked yourself in the mirror one more time before leaving your house. 

Just as you were about to open the door, you heard a knock. You waited a few seconds so that whoever was on the other side didn’t think you had rushed to the door. Putting your hand on the cool knob you slowly turned it. The old door creaked as it swung open, and you were met with a sight you couldn’t believe was real. 

Daryl stood at your doorstep, eyes locked on his shoes and hand on the back of his neck. “Oh, Hi Daryl.” You tried to contain the giddiness that was coursing through your body. “Hey uh- you free for a sec?” He slowly looked up at you and dropped his hand. “Yeah, what's up?” He looked around nervously. “I haven’t been in Alexandria a lot lately, but I wanna be.” You were stunned at this statement, what did he mean by that? “When I’m back next time, uh- was gonna see if ya wanted to um- go huntin’ together or somethin’.” 

You had to shift your weight to the side of your body that was still holding onto the door handle, otherwise your knees would have fully given out. You couldn’t hide the wide grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, I would like that.” He looked up at you and gave you the smallest smile. “Are you free next week?” His smile grew wider as he said, “I am.” 

Although not many words left his mouth, his eyes spoke clearly. You picked up a hint of lust, mixed with excitement and anxiety. You knew what that look meant. “I’ll see you next week then.” You spoke softly, slightly leaning your head against the door. “Yeah.” He gave you a small nod before shoving his hands in his front pockets and walking off your porch. Before he left earshot you called out, “Have a safe trip!” He looked back at you and smiled just a bit wider, before giving you a wave and walking toward the gate. 

OKAY LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THOUGHT !!!!

also I feel like it's kinda maybe necessary to do a part 2 to Juno ???? lmk....

[lostinlovingrevery]

Van's Valentines - Heartbreaker

70s DOFP! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: My first Valentines-themed fic! It came out more angsty than planned... All my Valentines fics are gonna be themed around these cute lil Valentine cards that I found through Pinterest!

Plot: He has moved in and out of your life for the last two years, you love him, but you're not sure if you can let him in again...

Warnings: Angst, but a happy ending! Logans a menace, reader is described as a waitress, with some backstory

Word Count: 2168

“Hey pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice. Trouble. 

Logan Howlett. The menace of your life. The sole reason you have not been able to move on with yourself, to find someone else that you could fall madly in love with. He was the devil incarnate. A son of a bitch who’s made you cry more than you care to admit. 

You met him a little over two years ago. He walked into your small family restaurant. A little restaurant your grandfather started when he was about your age. You were just a waitress when Logan showed up. Handsome man who sauntered into the building with arrogance and snug jeans. He (unfortunately) charmed you off your feet. 

The next month you were in bliss. Until he decided to leave.

He told you it wasn’t you. It was him. That he wasn’t a homebody, that he needed to go out there. See the world. Sticking around just wasn’t him. You didn’t have a choice but to accept that and move on. You may have shed a few tears, missing the warmth of him in your bed, the sound of his voice when he came in to visit you at work, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. Nevertheless, you moved on. It was only a month you were together anyway, right? You had college and work to focus on. There’s other fish in the sea.

Then he came back.

Then he would leave again.

And he would come back again.

Every single time you accepted him into your arms like a fool, he would kiss you and you’d melt under his warm and timber voice, calling you baby, and sweetheart. Then you’d watch him leave again, tears falling down you cheeks as you inevitably began to wonder, why won’t he stay?

Even so, you never let him see the tears. You didn’t want him to know the power he held over you. Even if you both knew that you should’ve stopped opening your arms to him by the third time he showed up. It effectively ruined your love life. You couldn’t date any man without comparing the poor schmuck to Logan in more ways than one. Your heart felt wrong when you finally kissed the jock from your old high school you had a huge crush on during your high school years. You turned down the cute and very sweet new guy with pretty blue eyes who moved in town purely because you knew Logan was going to show up again- and you were right. 

Your grandfather told you once that your soul knew when it met it’s other half. He would tell you that there was strings that tied two people together and no matter how far you strayed from each other- you’ll meet again. You wondered often if that was the case with Logan...Now you're not too sure.

Now it’s been over two years since Logan came in and out of your life. The restaurant you worked in was now yours after the loss of your dear grandfather. The man who’s raised you and made you the person you were today. You dropped out of college when he died, taking over his legacy to the small town you were born in. You took pride in the restaurant, and everyone knew your name and respected you. It didn’t mean that you sometimes didn’t daydream about seeing the world, like Logan does.

It was Valentines day, and you were finishing putting up the pretty heart decorations, stringing along the ceiling and counters. Amongst many other little decorations that you had placed on various counter tops. The local radio station playing various cheesy love songs over the speaker. Despite having your heart broken by him more times than you care to remember. You were still a big romantic, and Valentines was your favorite holiday. Even if you believed you would be spending it alone. 

You didn’t turn around immediately to the sound of his voice. Your mind filled with irritation. 

Why did he have to show up today of all days? At this point you believed he must get off on causing you heartbreak.

You brushed your hands together, adjusted your apron, letting out a hard sigh and turned around, curses prepared on your tongue as you were about to finally tell him to get out of your life for good. Only it died back on your tongue as you saw him.

“Logan?” You blinked in surprise.

He was standing there, looking nicer than you’ve ever seen him. He always looked good, not one to make a fashion statement yet somehow sported the best looks you could see on a man. A clean button up shirt, tucked into smooth dark blue jeans- of course his classic belt with the almost comedically large designed buckle; It was the shape of a heart. His usual worn brown leather jacket that he would drape over you when he’d walk you back home, or when you sat on the back of his pickup and the sun would set, leaving a chill in the air. His hair was slicked back, his usual scruffy beard and mutton chops trimmed and cleaned up. He was sporting sunglasses that he took off, tucking into his shirt, as you took him in- as well as the gifts he was holding.  

He was holding a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm. The other was a big heart shaped box that you presumed held chocolates. 

He smiled- not his usual cocky smirk, it was something soft and genuine. Like the smile you seen your grandfather give your grandmother. He stepped forward. 

“Happy Valentines day baby.” He says, handing you the bouquet, which was so big you needed both arms to cradle it carefully. The aroma of the roses wafted to your nose, and you closed your eyes, taking a big sniff. “I thought you’d like em.”

“I…” You opened your mouth and shut them, looking back up at him with wide eyes, still slightly shocked. You looked into his eyes, the eyes that always made your knees weak.

“Had to get my girl something special for her favorite holiday, hm?” He smiled. 

You looked down at the roses,your heart fluttering at the sound of him calling you his girl. For a moment, you forgot about your irritation, your constant heartbreak. The fact that you thought about him all the time, wondering if he was okay. You have filled yourself with jealousy, jealousy of his lifestyle, jealousy of the girls who probably captured his attention somewhere else. Your heart sank. What are you doing? You’re letting him do it again! 

“Thank you.” You say, your tone firm. “I can’t take these though.”

He blinked in surprise, his smile dropping. “They’re for you.” He states, looking down at them. 

You sighed, moving to set them down on the counter, careful so that the roses don’t get crushed. “We can’t keep doing this Logan.”

“Doing what?”

Your brows creased angrily, a small scoff escaping you. “What? Are you serious? This!” Your voice pitched higher, and he blinked in surprise at your sudden outburst. “You show up, acting like you actually care about me and then leave!” Your hand flew in the air, motioning to him. He shook his head at your comment. You never showed him any anger when he came back, always happy, open arms, and a sweet kiss. A lovesick expression on your face as he’d tell you new stories of his adventures, completely forgetting of how he made you felt when he left. 

“I do care about you.” His voice was low, as his eyes looked down at you in an expression that looked confused. “How could you think I don’t?” 

You blinked in disbelief. How could he care about you? He shows up into your life, he treats you like you’re so important, that he could even….but he leaves. He always leaves. He never looks back. It didn’t matter if you begged him to stay a few more days, for one more kiss. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to move on with your life.

Shaking your head. “You should go Logan. Find some other girl to break the heart of.” You say, bitterness in your tone. There was a shakiness in your voice you attempted to hide. “The flowers are beautiful but I can’t…” You looked away from him, crossing your arms around you. You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to go.

He stepped closer. “You’re telling me to go?”

You nodded, not looking at him. A beat passed, and a hand came up, cupping your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears that you attempted to blink away- refusing to let him see the emotion on your face. 

The way he looked down at you almost made you burst into tears right then. A soft smile came across his face. 

“I’m sorry baby.” He says softly. His hand cupped your cheek, bringing his other hand to cup your face completely. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s my fault. I just couldn’t deal with how you made me feel.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m a huge asshole. I know.” He says softly. “I ain’t got no right. You don’t deserve it.” He continues. “I left that first time cause I knew that I…” He trailed off, looking at you with pressed lips. Like he was afraid to say what he wanted to say. 

“What?” You ask, your heart starting to beat faster. “Logan….”

“I kept coming back because I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was selfish I know.” His thumb rubbed softly across your cheek. Your hands, shakily reached up to rest on his hips. “Every time I left I couldn’t stop thinking about some asshole taking you. Someone who didn’t know how to make you laugh, or make you feel good like I know how.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressed to yours. “I missed you every single goddamn time. Thought about you every night. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” 

You let out a small scoff, a small shake of your head. “Look who’s talking..” You mutter. He grinned. 

“I want you.” He says. “It took me some time to accept that. It terrifies me because there’s still some things you don’t know about me. I know it’s shitty. Don’t make me go away. No more running. You and me. We can make it work.” 

You blinked in surprise. “R-really? Logan I-”

“Be my Valentine?” He grinned. A small snort escaped you at the cheesiness of him. 

“Seriously?” You asked. You were still in disbelief. The way he just changed from your outburst. Was he serious? Or was he playing you like a fiddle again?

“Whatever you want. I could take you away from here, go on those adventures you always wanted to go on. I’ll take you New York, to Vegas, hell- I’ll even take you to my hometown in Canada.” He takes a breath. “If you want, after…We’ll come back here. Settle down. Anything you want. I’ll do it.” 

The determination of his face took you aback. Logan was always passionate yes, but he was casual about his passion, he’d pushed away whenever you brought up your relationship, what you meant to each other. Then later at night, in the heat of passion, he’d whisper sweet things in your ear- things he felt about you. You were never sure if it was true or he just said it, simply lost in the moment. You never knew what he was thinking or feeling. He wouldn’t tell you.

“I’ll be here for you. Just let me.” 

You thought back to the times he was here. They were some of your happiest memories. He did always know how to make you laugh. He knew what made you feel good. He knew what to say when you were stressed. He knew your deepest secrets. 

He was there when you lost your grandfather, somehow showing up that day after you found him. He stayed with you throughout the process. At the time, you thought he’d leave almost immediately. You were grieving, were in no mood for flings or flirting but he held your hand the entire way. It was actually the longest he ever stayed. Nearly 3 months. He held you when you cried. Supported you when you quit college. Even lent a hand at the restaurant. You couldn’t even be mad when he told you he had to leave. You were happy to just have someone who was there for you. 

Your grandfather always liked him. 

“Okay.” You smiled, leaning into him. You couldn’t believe yourself. Moments ago you were ready to cuss him out, tell him to get out of your life. Within minutes he made you fold. “We’ll make it work.”

He really was the devil.

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! | itoshi rin x fem reader

part twelve: childhood || BAND AU, A BIT AGED UP

plot: after your band's last concert, a few days after Rin's, an online competition arises about who is the best bassist. A whole new challenge is created by the new fandom who loves you, but people don't know that you and the bassist of Blue Lock haven't spoken in about 3 years since you broke up, when you were sixteen

02: PAST, YESTERDAY

characters presentation || last part || next part ; words: 1k

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

"When did you decide to play the guitar? I've never seen you here" you say to the child, putting your bass in the case "I started a few weeks ago. How about you?" he asks, and you think about it "I've been playing my bass for a long time now, I was 5 when I started!" You say, smiling at him, and he nods before walking back with his group

That Sae Itoshi was weird, but really good with his guitar. His guitar teacher always talked to your bass teacher about how he was a phenomenon, that's why you decided to talk to him for the first time, but he didn't seem particularly interested in you. Maybe he's shy, but you don't know

"Wait, Itoshi!" you say running towards him, the bass weighing on your shoulders "I'm convinced I can handle the speed with which you play your guitar, I can be your bassist!" you say, and he seems to think about it “Are you good?” he asks raising an eyebrow, and you nod "Many say that I am the best bassist of my age, in our music school" you say a little embarrassed. You see him a little perplexed as he takes the case over his shoulder "Do you have anything to do this afternoon?" he asks, and you shake your head to say no, following him with a smile on your face

As you walk towards Sae's house, you think about how you ended up in this situation: you don't even know why you care so much about being his bassist, but you think that he is capable of giving you notes that can make you electrify. You've been playing bass for 5 years now, and when you heard that the new guitarist at the music school you go was looking for some good bass players, you took the opportunity. Sae is 12 years old, a little older than you, but he already seems to be great at what he does; you have fairly high expectations, both on his part and on your part

"Come, we can go to the garage" says the child entering a small garden, taking a path that surrounds the road, which leads to the back. You follow him, looking around curiously, noticing how the outside of the house is very nice. When you arrive at the back Sae takes you into the already open garage, which overlooks a very well-kept garden, probably from her mother "You can connect your bass to that speaker. Shall we try some songs?" he asks, plugging in his guitar, and you nod, following the order that he gave you “You start, I'll join you and give you the right rhythm. After all, that's what the bass does"

Sae begins, and after a few seconds you join him: you both start playing a strong melody from a song you studied in music school, one you particularly like. Even though you've never played together you seem to have been doing it for a long time, as if a chemical reaction had taken place between your bass and his guitar. Play for minutes on end, until you reach the end

“That was so cool!” you say happy, but he doesn't seem to share the same happiness, despite being calm "It was nice. Let's try again with something else" he says, and you nod getting into position, yours fingers on the bass keys. For the second time you start playing without any problems, and you feel so happy to finally have someone who can give you emotions when he plays: you've been playing for a while, you know how it works to be paired with someone for a duet, you've always gotten along well with everyone because you're talented, but you've never had fun. But now you're doing it, you're not the only one with so much talent. It's satisfying, magical, beautiful

But as you play, you notice how someone is peeking from the last step of the garage stairs, the ones that probably lead to the first floor

Finished playing, Sae puts down the guitar, climbing onto the first step "Rin!" he says, and you are confused "If you are interested, you can come down. Observing is rude" says Itoshi, and a child comes out from behind the door, that is, from where he was hiding while he was looking at you "Sorry, Nii San" says the child coming down the stairs, looking down and apologetic

Seeing him like this, he is probably his younger brother; he could be your age, since you should be more or less the same height. He is quite different from Sae, except for the marked undereyelashes, perhaps a symbol of the Itoshi family: he has dark green hair, teal eyes and chubby cheeks. He is quite a bit shorter than Sae, that's why you're convinced he's his younger brother

When he reaches the garage floor, after going down the stairs, his gaze shifts to you: you observe each other for a few seconds, you curious about him and him for who knows what reason, which however doesn't make him look away

"Rin, I told you it's rude to stare. Introduce yourself to her" Sae says, walking over, placing a hand on his shoulder. Rin becomes serious again, standing up straight "I'm Rin Itoshi. I'm Sae's younger brother" the boy says, and Sae nods "He's 10, you should be the same age, right?" he asks, and you nod "I have 10 too, yeah"

Rin's gaze continually shifts between you and your bass as he stands a few feet away from you. You look at him curiously "Do you like my bass?" you ask, moving closer, and he takes a few steps back "Oh, yes" he says uncertainly, but you don't seem bothered by his uncertainty "Do you play an instrument too?" you ask, and Sae walks away, returning to his guitar, which he puts back on

“He said he wants to start sing-” Sae says, but is cut off from the ringing voice of his brother

"I want to play bass"

TAGLIST: @x3nafix ; @kittenish0 ; @littlejapanesesightseeingtrip ; @pan-kojiwa ; @pookalicious-hq ; @kaz-0e ; @sof888a ; @chugging-bleach ; @matchablossomsss ; @lovelymeguru ; @thebestsetter ; @yamsverse ; @princesssae ; @yuukigyatgyat ; @azharyy ; @rwbie ; @bubybubsters ; @swagkittybear ; @syarc0re ; @rink1sser ; @frogsrules ; @hwaassaa ; @chuuyalvover

[bahablastplz]

Skz fic recs (mxm) MDNI

hello! we had mixed opinions if we wanted mxm fic recs but I decided to make one anyway so those of you who want it, have at it! those of you who don't, that's okay you don't have to interact <3

These fics are all on ao3! I tried to find tumblr blogs for those authors who have them but if i'm missing anyone feel free to let me know. These are all mature unless otherwise stated! They are majority minsung but in general they are sorted by pairing with the older member first!

here's the color code: completed, ongoing, over 50k words, under 50k words, no smut

Haebang by BulletTears Chan/Everyone, 193k completed: Chan’s friend sets him up for a ‘spa retreat’ but he later finds out it’s a sexual liberation program. Slow burn, virginity loss, kink discovery, angst, hurt/comfort

you know I can’t leave you alone by @jisungjuice Chan/Minho, 13k completed: “When Chan asks Minho to help him with his dancing for the Red Lights MV, he didn't expect to like a certain part of the choreography so (very) much.” red lights, choking, kink discovery

reply hazy, try again by mrehk Chan/Changbin, 15k completed: “Changbin’s calculus tutor is Bang Chan. (OR: solving for the derivative of l+o+v+e)” frat boy chan, fwb, pining, loss of virginity, idiots in love

Case 35 by theproblematique Chan/Felix, 15k completed, part of series: “The running joke is that he is the 'group-dad', and Chan plays the part for his friends without protest. Then Felix has to go and complicate things.” Daddy kink, idiots to lovers

deviation by theproblematique Chan/Jeongin 8k completed: “They all used Chan for their first ruts, until it’s Jeongin's turn.” bang chan wants to feel needed, a/b/o, omega chan, heats/ruts

I’ll never be that type of beautiful by @changbinholic Minho/Changbin, 50k completed: “the unconventional omega Changbin and feral alpha Minho we all needed.” one dubcon scene, a/b/o, angst

Case 54 by theproblematique Minho/Jisung, 35k completed, part of series: “Jisung is so supportive of Minho’s sexuality that it goes wrong.” Jealous Han, coming to terms with sexuality, great buildup

Your love (my breath) by Lox_y Minho/Jisung, 34k ongoing: “In which Jisung is the luna of his pack, and is tormented by his mate until he's killed in a fight with a neighboring pack, by an alpha named Minho.” heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, hurt/comfort

Rule number one by evesmysoul Minho/Jisung, 144k completed: “Or Jisung’s broken heart leads him to make an arrangement with his mysterious classmate Minho. He believes everything will work out, as long as neither of them breaks the rules.” fwb, bad with feelings, slow burn, angst, happy ending

Ruin me (for everyone else) by preetydark Minho/Jisung, 20k completed: “Minho’s rut is blocked, it’s been for years now.This was never really a problem for him; except when the symptoms show up again when his younger brother's best friend, Jisung, is around.” pining, a/b/o, tension

no attachments by ockleibi, Minho/Jisung, 68k ongoing: “The guy who refuses to have sex with Jisung because he's a virgin turns out to be inextricably connected to his friend group. Awesome.” fwb, virginity loss, angst, great smut

chasing friction by cloudrages Minho/Jisung, 5k completed: “Jisung rides Minho’s thigh” virginity loss, gay panic, thigh riding (duh)

use me for a feeling (or a good time) by honeyeaters Minho/Jisung, 58k completed: “Minho and Jisung have slept with everyone except each other. Until that changes. No feelings attached, of course.” fwb, pining, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

mouth to mouth by keros Minho/Jisung, 54k completed; “It’s Jisung’s first time off schedule in months, and he’s naturally anticipating the most boring day ever. When Minho gets back to the dorms early, it turns into anything but.” pining, tension, teasing, confessions

you have one (1) new notification by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung, 8k completed: “Jisung asks Minho to help him with his porn-watching addiction. Against his better judgment, Minho agrees.” friends to lovers, tension, humor lots of thoughts, head full (and bursting with horniness) by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung 13k completed: “Minho develops the power to read minds. Turns out, Jisung's thoughts are very, very horny.” mutual pining, friends to lovers, humor, I have a plan to write an xreader fic inspired by this soon

ex proprio vigore by mrehk Minho/Jisung, 23k completed, professor minho/law school student han, slowburn, tension, teasing, great smut, power dynamics

a fish tank (with rainbow socks) by mrehk, Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho never sleeps with the same guy twice; Jisung becomes a master of disguise” strangers to lovers, idiots in love, humor, mrehk has the best writing 

an octopus (playing tennis) by mhrek Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho sighs. “Put yourself in my shoes, Bin. You see incriminating photos of your best friend. You realize you’ve been in love with your best friend for ages. You can’t stop touching your dick while thinking about your best friend— and now you’re just supposed to hang out with your best friend like everything is fine?!” friends to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, comedy, mutual pining  chrysalis by mhrek Minho/Jisung 12k completed: “Jisung didn’t prepare for this. He was meant to just— tell Minho he’s gay— not ask him to have sex with him. The glass must have been a literal breaking point for his feeble self control.” friends to lovers, mutual pining, loss of virginity, gay awakening

cat’s cradle by mrehk, Hyunjin/Jeongin 13k completed: “Hyunjin starts fucking his drug dealer because he asked so nicely” stoners, fwb, gay awakening, idiots in love 

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do by @/jisungjuice Jisung/Everyone 117k completed: “How omega Jisung turns all of Stray Kids into a proper pack.” fluff, a/b/o, light angst, loss of virginity, poly

between pavement and sky by tellmesomethinggood Jisung/2min 5k completed: “You want Minho to... cheat on you?" Jisung asks. "I want Minho to sleep with someone, while I watch." Seungmin says.” threesome, cuckholding, poly

Unsweetened Lemonade by Intricate 6 Jisung/Felix, Jisung/Everyone 44k ongoing: “Jisung runs away from his old pack only to be captured by another. This pack claims to be different, but Jisung isn't so sure…” Heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

I’ll be good by skittlesmenu Jisung/Seungmin, 5k completed: “Cocky fuck boy Jisung gets flustered when top student Seungmin flirts back.” enemies to friends, fwb, tension

Open your hands (open your life) by rainyleafs Felix/Everyone, 158k ongoing: “Felix has been living off the grid ever since he fled his abusive former alpha. When he finds a distressed omega in an alley, he has no idea that bringing Jeongin back to his pack will get him everything he would never have dared to dream of.” No smut, slow-burn, hurt/comfort

effortless like loving you by littleinfinitewisdoms Jeongin/everyone, 202k ongoing; “Yang Jeongin, 24, "beta," has been disowned by his religious family after coming out. A month or so later, he finds himself with nowhere else to go, and almost no more money. He finally calls a crisis center and gets placed in an employment assistance program and a host pack.” fluff, angst, past trauma/abuse, religious trauma, haven’t finished yet but it’s good enough so far to recommend

[quarterlifekitty]

wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Wolf Moon in Cancer ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

The first FM of 2025, although aenergetically still a full moon of the previous year, the Full Wolf Moon was in Cancer on 14th January. Food is scarce during winter and the wolves howl more because of that🐺My gosh, aren’t we hungry for more sustenance?🍕Amazingly, the Cancer aenergy is all about food and nutrition!🥗Starting this FM, you may feel the urge to develop a healthier relationship with food and sustenance~♦︎

The world is healing and so many people are elevating spiritually, and with that, our awareness of the relationship between what we consume and how that affects the mind and body grows correspondingly. The true revolution of humanity is Environmentalism!🫒This is also a time the Full Moon invites us to reconsider what we individually deem as ‘healthy work-life balance’. It’s a good idea to move the body more and/or create things with our very own hands; reminds modern people what it means to be…Human. To be actively human🤸‍♀️

If you’ve ever sustained some kind of trauma related to ‘hard work’ in which you felt underappreciated⚰️or that your efforts gave you no gain whatsoever in return💰and all that you got was heartache…💔this FM in Cancer is inviting you to reframe that trauma🧬Starting this year, if and when it suits you, try to 'get back to nature' by refamiliarizing yourself with touching real materials or making real things that stimulate the creativity through motion~♪

You are Human—you're supposed to emote a lot🏄‍♀️And most of all, whilst learning to ‘live again’, so to speak, remember that your T.I.M.E is essentially unlimited as you live fully in the present moment~♡

move: Ballerina CORE & POSTURE Workout by Everyday Ballet

make: Those Famous Blue Chinese Bowls Come From This Town by Goldthread

deck-bottom: 9 of Swords, Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus), Priestess of Happiness

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – The Reclamation of Individual Thought!

pizzaaa: New York Pizza Vs. Italian Pizza by Joshua Weissman

mind – 7 of Cups

You are such a gentle Soul—and most likely identify as an altruist?🕊There’s a chance you have significant Mercury/Virgo/6H or Venus/Libra/7H placements. You’re the type of person who genuinely values every person’s individual thought, input and opinions on a matter. Actually, you’re a natural-born peacemaker and this penchant for listening and appreciating people’s individual preferences is in essence a display of your deep empathy and incredible intelligence🦌

Buutt…a little downside to this is that you sometimes put yourself last. You don’t think you’re important enough or you simply get confused. Thing is, if you never took the chance to prioritise your own ideas, perceptions and opinions on a matter, you’d never matter either🦑And that wouldn’t be fun at all, because deep down, you yearn to be recognised as someone unique who has a plethora of interesting perspectives!⚖️

The Full Wolf Moon in Cancer has sent an invitation for you to gradually develop a sense for individual thinking🍳Check out the strengths and uniqueness of your Mercury sign and placement (as well as what it’s aspected with) and find your validation for a very unique way you can communicate/express all of the wonderful ideas that are stored inside of YOU~🥘

body – 2 of Cups

Still within the realm of talking/eating here, oohh…someone needs to fix their relationship with food and learn balanced eating here🌞The Cancer/4H and Capricorn/10H axis is all about tradition and responsibility. Some of you tuning into this as your main pile may have dealt with varying levels of imbalance in the way you eat or how much you eat🥡This has everything to do with a forced sense of ‘control’ and ‘discipline’. In astrology, Cancer is mother and Capricorn is father—now go figure how this applies to your situation😉

This FM you’re being invited to reframe the ‘trauma’ that’s the root cause of this imbalanced eating, so to speak. It’s all emotional, honey. Eating disorders of any kind is rooted in the emotions—I’d suggest looking on YouTube some videos by Teal Swan on this topic; very enlightening🍵Anyway, you can also look up ways and methods to balance and strengthen your Sacral and Throat chakras. Eating and talking are all within the realms of those two chakra points🥭

Other than that, whether or not you have problems with eating enjoyably and sanely, this FM is also inviting you to rethink what tradition or custom means to you on a personal and spiritual level🍱

spirit – 10 of Pentacles Rx

All of this rumination that you’re being invited to partake in, ultimately will lead to developing a stronger sense for individual thinking🐉See? It’s all leading back to that. People naturally should be responsible for their own thoughts and decision making, irrespective of what kind of tradition or community they were born into. Freedom in thinking is man’s greatest treasure that should be cherished. This FM is simply inviting you to rediscover your sense of unique identity whilst being part of a community or any other kind of a collective🌕

The truth of the matter is—especially if this has been your main pile—you’re part of a group of Souls (ironic🤣) that are meant to break some rules in this Hyper Game. Now, if you’re going to break rules and customs, you need to know how they were built in the first place, then can you intelligently decide the values that are inconvertibly good and then discard or improve upon whatever no longer serves the Highest Good of the community🍊

You’re a System Buster. I know you know that deep within your Soul. As much as you care about people, also understand that YOU~ ain’t responsible for saving nobody. People don’t need saving as much as they need a reminding. If tomorrow extraterrestrials came down from the heavens, even they wouldn’t save nobody from the misery of their own creation—aliens most likely are just going to remind Humans that the only thing capable of saving them is just them quitting being so negative, conflicty and shitty in the first place🐀

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Silver Historian (Polydore Vergil) & Priestess of Inspiration

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Flirting with Life Because You Have a Lot to Offer~★

pizzaaa: Midnight Margherita Pizza in Naples by Jamie Oliver & Gennaro Contaldo

mind – King of Wands

‘Life is colourful!’🎨I feel like that’s the numero uno vibe that you’ve been enveloped in lately (or soon to experience) due to your own elevation in vibration. Other than elevation, you may have done something to further shield or protect yourself from all of the world’s low-vibrational thought and emotional patterns. In essence, if this is your main pile, you’ve done a massive spiritual purge—which seems to be a message that has been coming up a lot in the collective lately—and all of that shadow work, so to speak, is bearing fruits~🫐🍓🥝

With all of the limiting beliefs from which you’ve managed to set yourself free, you’ve come to a much, much deeper understanding of how your states of mind, moods, and sense of inspiration all hold the magical codes for co-Creation with the ever-benevolent Universe💫Essentially, what comes after that is either complete faith in the trajectory of your Destiny, or you’ve simply given up on feeling anxious about where you’re being led to, or both🦉Oh! Isn’t that so liberating~?🐣

Babe, people call something magic when they don’t understand its logic, but to those who do truly understand magic, quite everything about it is scientific🎼This year is all about you awakening more fully to the magic deep within, and seeing and experiencing for yourself how your physical Reality gradually aligns with your personal values and desires~🐾

body – 6 of Pentacles

Those of you who’ve been struggling financially, this FM was a gateway towards your physical abundance, for real. Basically, whether or not you were struggling financially, there was a sense of lack or limitation that was always making you feel unstable or insecure. You couldn’t always do or get what you needed when you needed it. Starting this FM—and yes, this is your theme throughout 2025—you’ll be seeing for real how your sense of ‘security’ or ‘abundance’ gets rectified by the Universe~⚖️

For some people, yes, it is about money or a job opportunity; for some others, this could revolve around time spent with loved ones, or even a greater sense of ease in pursuing your creative hobbies/interests. Bottom line is, trust that this FM in Cancer is opening up the floodgates of GOOD VIBES and confidence what will make your entire year so much easier to navigate. I sense that this in itself is just preparation for you to manifest something MUCH, MUCH, MUCH MORE VALUABLE than this peace of mind🚁

I’m hearing: before the summer, use this time to take very good care of your physical avatar. Eat whatever you like as much or as little as you want, and see for yourself what kind of eating habits suit you~🌭

spirit – 4 of Cups Rx

If this is your main pile, you surely have worked tirelessly at something that actually took away a great amount of JOY from your everyday Reality. I’m being told—and I’m being told that you need to really, really believe this—that all of the good times you’ve missed during survival or trauma healing or shadow work are going to be fully compensated by the abundant Universe🛍🎡🥂

Lately I’ve been seeing these vids on YouTube that have titles like: ‘God can make up for your lost time’ or something along those lines~🥞Maybe such ‘prophetic words’ could heal some of the emotional pain you’ve sustained during spiritual purging🍋It may seem endless at times, but if you’ve resonated with this pile so far, your Spirit Guides are insisting that your GOOD TIMES are chasing you hard this year🌊🌊🌊

With that said, keep the faith, act like it’s already yours—because it really already is; and most of all, know that you deserve all of this goodness because the ‘you’ now also have so much good to share with the world!🌟🌟🌟

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull) & Priestess of Healing

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Figuring Out More Deeply How the Matrix Works!

pizzaaa: How to Make Perfect Pizza by Gennaro Contaldo

mind – XIX The Sun

Wow! Two major arcana for you, boo~🍻But listen, Pile 3 aenergy is somewhat heavy in the sense that you do have a huge responsibility in this incarnation—and I’ve a feeling this is a pile not that many people are gonna choose or resonate with🦞

It’s very likely that this year you’re going to begin reuniting with your—let’s say… Soul Comrades? lol🦁These are the Souls that share multitudes of mission with you and of course many of them could be true Soul Fam, but there are just as many that aren’t necessarily family with you on a Soul level. This is big, ma man—if this is your main pile, you’re obviously an important, high-ranking Celestial who has infused your consciousness deep into the Earth-Matrix Experience (Human ver.) programme🐦‍🔥🐲

Did you know that you came here to hijack the Game—the System?👾Your entire Life you were learning to redirect aenergy and thought, as part of the liberation of Mankind’s collective consciousness. You’ve the ability/access to hijack back the matrices of evil and suffering by entering and rearranging codes in the Records!🕹

body – 9 of Pentacles

Now this FM being in the Cancer-Capricorn axis—the axis of traditional values—you may have felt a deep desire to ‘touch grass’ more lol🍃The last time Pluto was in Capricorn, or when Capricorn Pluto generation (equivalent of today’s Gen Alpha) were young adults, Humanity was in the Romantic Era. This era came right after the Industrial Revolution whereby intellectual young adults rebelled against rapid ‘modernisation’ by deliberately returning to what was beautiful and poetic albeit impractical—but that is exactly the point, right?🌷

If you’ve chosen this as your main pile, chances are, you’re someone who inherently appreciates the beauty of the natural world🪺You could still be into technology and are appreciative of the ease of modern amenities, but deep down, you know that ‘modernity’ shouldn’t have to equal drabness or ugly buildings—or ugly everything on that matter🦚

What you’re being led to, aenergetically speaking, is an awareness of this mechanism of how ‘evil powers’ that are holding this Matrix hostage are deliberately making everything uglier so as to kill the Human Spirit🥀And thus, by realising this trick and noticing the patterns, you’re meant to rebel against the equilibrium of boredom by being weirder and more colourful still~🌈

spirit – VIII Strength Rx

What Humanity is going through right now, I’m sure you of all people understand that we’re watching the crumbling of the establishment that was founded on deceit and funded by lies, in real-time🍭That’s why economies are weakening and so many are struggling for food and other forms of basic necessities. But for you, Pile 3, it could be that you’ve been swimming in that exact frequency for a while…🧆

But starting this FM—and for the rest of the year if not the rest of your Life—you’re going to be so abundant now that you’ve finished gathering data for why the Human Matrix is filled with a ‘lack consciousness’—not just mindset but ‘consciousness’ altogether����Right now, there’s a sense of needing to rest… No, actually, from now on, you’ll always have the freedom to manipulate Reality—aenergy and timeline and such—in accordance to what you like, when you like it🍽

You aren’t doing this all by yourself, you know. Your Spirit Guides and Cosmic Ancestors are all in this with you. Anyway, learn to embrace this feeling of peace because you seem like you’ve forgotten🎂You have the power to choose to be so deeply grounded in your Divine Consciousness that nothing outside of that calm can shake your foundation~🥘

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler) & Priestess of Luxury

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

[sirfrogsworth]

2 new things I learned about Mormonism.

Thing the first…

Joseph Smith once held a sorta Mormon Comic-Con where he invited all of his followers and claimed he was going to perform miracles and talk to God and other nonsense. He set up a faith healing demonstration with an audience plant and they pretended to be suddenly stricken deaf and dumb.

Joseph was all, "By the power of Jesus, alakazam, you can now hear and speak again!"

Everyone clapped.

Joseph did not seem to have the foresight to realize other people might want to have their chronic maladies cured. So he was ready to wrap up his little magic show and move on.

But an old dude in the audience was all, "I've got this fucked up hand. Would you mind unfucking it for me?"

In his head, I'm sure Joseph thought, "Well, shit."

But he decided to give it a go. I mean, when I was young I would try to use force powers "just in case." Like, how do you know you don't have force powers if you never try to use them?

So he did his routine again on the fucked up hand and the old man stretched out his fingers for a second and Joseph probably thought "Oh shit, did that really work?" and then they curled back into their fucked up state. He tried his best to make an excuse and hoped that was the end of the faith healing portion of the show.

But then…

A man walks in carrying his little boy.

Who is super dead.

He's like, "Yeah, I was going to take him to a doctor, but everyone said you were coming and I should just wait. Would you mind un-deading my little boy real quick?"

In his head… "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck..."

Out loud… "Jesus Christ and the almighty Father, restore life to this very dead child!"

And the boy opened his eyes and smiled and everyone clapped…

Would have been a great ending to this story.

But he was still quite dead.

Thing the second…

I knew that when Mormons turned 18 they went on a little mission. I always thought they picked a poverty stricken country somewhere and went to help the poor and build houses and give people food and medicine using the church's immense wealth and resources. That seems like it would humble a young person and give them a valuable life experience.

I suppose I just assumed that considering that's typically how Catholics do missionary work. They do a bunch of good deeds and when people are happy and grateful for their help, they pull out a Bible and start their sales pitch. I always had mixed feelings about this but I thought "at least they were helping people." (Not always the case. Sometimes missionaries do more harm than good. But that is the idea, at least.)

Mormons skip the helping people and just do the sales pitch.

They honestly believe converting them to Mormonism is more valuable than food, shelter, clothing, money.

Being a member should solve all of those things, right?

Well, that is essentially what these young mission kids are told.

And they don't just go to poor countries, they often go to rich areas in the US. One might go to the Congo and the other... Beverly Hills.

These 18 year olds are thrust into an unfamiliar place with a few weeks of language training and are tasked with getting people baptized. They have to pay for this "honor" and are judged by how many people they convert. They are often housed in sketchy places and in order to keep them from going rogue, they are attached to another 18 year old who must stay within sight and sound at all times.

Mormonism relies heavily on tattling to keep people following the rules. Seriously, I think the glue that holds all of it together is "snitches get riches." BYU even has an official snitching office where you can narc on someone for getting coffee.

The point is, no one is helped and these kids are essentially slaves for 2 years. They work 80 hour weeks with no pay just trying to get baptisms.

[beesgobzzzing]

Article translation

Hooja and Käärijä are performing together for the first time in the first semifinal of Melodifestivalen in Luleå. Maybe Hooja will be participating in Melodifestivalen for real in the future:

You never know, Hooja says. [Bees note: Their manager said in a podcast during the fall last year that they were not interested in competing in Melodifestivalen, so this is definitely a politicians answer.]

Among feather boas and pink sequins, dressed in their particular fur hats, baklavas and fleece jackets, Hooja and DJ Mårdhund has arrived in Luleå Energi Arena. [Bees note: Mårdis and myself has referenced this as Coop Arena before, and that used to be it's name. Like many arenas elsewhere, this one also takes it's name from their main sponsor, which changes every now and then.] They are debuting in Melodifestivalen. They do have someone who has a lot of experience from this setting with them - Finnish Eurovision favorite Käärijä. But they're not taking part in the actual competition.

Together they are here as an interval act in Melodifestivalen's first semi in Luleå, where they are performing their new song "San Francisco Boy".

The trio has taken a break in show preparations and sit down on some chairs by one of the arena entrances. Käärijä is not wearing a mask, but does wear sunglasses just like the duo from Gällivare.

You're a bit secretive, and I think it's fun to work with artists who don't only have the music but another level to it. You have nice clothes too, Käärijä says.

Outside the glass doors another masked artist, Fröken Snusk [Bees note: her artist name translates to Miss Dirty], appears and waves to her coworkers before she once again disappears into the darkness.

Why are you making a song together?

Why not? I listened to Hooja's music and thought "oh, Swedish music can sound like this". Of course in a positive way, Käärijä says and laughs.

He says it's not always easy to make music with other artists. But the collaboration with Hooja has been painless.

Everything went so quick from meeting for the first time until we had a finished song, DJ Mårdhund says.

It was destiny, Hooja adds.

(Text under the picture: Käärijä has watched Melodifestivalen at home in Finland and is happy that he gets to enter the stage in Sweden with Hooja. "Dreams can become true", DJ Mårdhund notes.)

That the song is called "San Francisco Boy" has nothing to do with anyone from the trio having been there.

We have seen San Francisco in pictures, very nice pictures in my opinion. They have a nice and big bridge, DJ Mårdhund says.

Maybe we should go there together and make "San Francisco Boy part 2", Käärijä says.

Käärijä competed for Finland in Eurovision in 2023 with the song "Cha Cha Cha". He came in second after Sweden and Loreen's song "Tattoo". Being in Melodifestivalen now is not something he minds.

It's fun, I love Loreen, and I like you too, Käärijä says and points at Hooja.

He won the audience vote in Eurovision and quickly became a fan favorite. Not least of all in Sweden, where his song climbed the charts. He wasn't quite prepared for the love from the Swedish audience.

There were a lot of Swedish people who wrote to me and said they liked my song. I didn't think Swedish people liked Finnish music, but it was really nice to see that the song charted so well in Sweden.

The trio has a very full schedule during these few days in Luleå. Hooja describes the whole event as "hullaballoo".

There are a lot of people running around but it's a fun show, he says.

Being the interval act together with Käärijä feels safe, according to the duo.

It feels good having you here, you've done this kind of thing before, Mårdis says and looks at Käärijä:

You're almost being a father figure for us.

But will being the interval act this year make Hooja want to compete for real in Melodifestivalen in the future?

You never know. We are not going to say: No, we would never do that. But we're not going to give a definite yes either, Hooja says.

Wow, what a politician's answer, DJ Mårdhund says.

Maybe I should get into politics instead, Hooja says.

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (13)

—  Pairing: Yoongi x ot6, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 9.5k

—  Warnings: Sexual abuse, Humiliation, Physical abuse, Dissociation, Ptsd, Psychological horror, Briefly thought about self-harm, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Confessions

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! — 

(48 days before, Yoongi).  

You pace back and forth in the entryway. Thinking hard.

It’s nearing 6pm and Geumjae is going to be home soon. But Yoongi isn’t here yet. Hadn’t come over to see you at all today and that’s strange. He texted you last night after he walked you home and dropped you off and asked if he could come over tomorrow too.

You’d said yes, but tomorrow is today now and the afternoon slips and passes you by with not even a knock at your front door. The house is empty down to the dust bunnies. Yoongi is usually a man of his word. He’s usually a gentleman.

Gentleman do not leave young ladies waiting.

You’d double and triple cleansed, there isn’t even any mascara on your eyelashes, not dark staining below your eyes beyond the deeply carved bags that have permanently etched themselves on your face since you’ve gotten married. It would be suspicious if you wore any today when Geumjae had explicitly forbidden you from leaving the house, from breaking your routine, while he was a city away.

Your husband is usually very very particular about your routine. But there have been quite a few breaks in it over the last few weeks.

Geumjae smelled like another omega when he came home last night. A scent cloying and sweet, neither the sweetness of flowers nor baked goods just a mindless sweetness. Almost perfume. There was even lipstick on his collar, bright pink like bubblegum.

You hadn't felt anything at all when you noticed, no revulsion or shame or regret, nothing but a tiny bit of relief.

You're not supposed to be relieved that your husband is seeing another omega, you're not supposed to not care. You only care about Yoongi and your meeting tomorrow. He's always on the other end of your phone, waiting.

Geumjae hasn't checked your texts in a long, long time. You're careful to delete all the ones you have with Yoongi after you read them. Committing the words to memory.

Procuring time for your meeting today had taken a fair bit of effort last night, questions about where he'd been and who he'd been seeing a carefully curated ruse. You were the picture of a pouting omega, bratty, expectant. Wondering where your husband had gone and if he'll be here tomorrow.

You're a good actress. You know if you don't pretend Geumjae only makes it worse.

“I’m not allowed to want to spend time with you now. Is that it?” You’d said with a pout, after your careful questions for Geumjae had drawn his suspicious eyebrow. And then tried again, “you keep me locked up in this house without anyone, I hate being alone.”

And that enough had made him grin, Geumjae doesn’t miss an opportunity to deny you again, to torture you in some new way. Isolation is one of his old weapons. Geumjae is only too happy to tell you that he’ll be indisposed all day tomorrow, probably until late. You'll get no respite from your loneliness, no relief and no companionship.

Good.  

You texted Yoongi, told him, and he replied with a little :] Face. Not the emoji, the :]. You haven’t felt so young in years, you certainly have never kicked your feet over a text message. You’ve never felt your age, not since you first put on your wedding ring and said I do.

But Yoongi makes you feel that, almost young, almost anxiety-free. Almost a lot of things.

But now, Yoongi makes you worry.

Usually when you know your husband is going to get home you hide yourself away in some corner of the house. You linger on the couch or the kitchen if you’re feeling brave. Either to fulfill the fantasy of the doting omega wife or hide away if the abuse the day before had been particularly brutal.

You certainly do not wait in the foyer for your husband to return home.

You pace back and forth, eyes on the driveway, waiting for the crunch of pea gravel. The cleaning staff and the private chef were dismissed hours ago. Dinner is in the fridge covered with cellophane. Granted, you’d waited longer than usual to text Yoongi. Longer than you maybe should have.

You (1:12pm): If you’re not going to show up, can you at least give me a heads up.

You (2:30pm): The chocolate lava cake’s gone cold.

You (4:04pm): I'm gonna make you eat all my desserts, even the pies, to say you're sorry for flaking on me. You're a flake, like a pie crust.

You (4:44pm): Yoongi?

You (5:30pm): Are you okay?

All of which had done unanswered, the messages don't even have the little delivered sign next to the text. This is uncharacteristic for him. Abnormal. An outlier in your dataset. A lump of something in sifted flour. You’ve paced back and forth for the last hour before making the decision, opening up a familiar contact. One that you've dared not text. Not since before.

You (5:57pm): I think I might need your help again.

You hit send, and then at the same moment, a familiar dark green sportscar pulls into the driveway. It’s engine a low hum. Any normal person wouldn’t have been conditioned to hate that color or feel fear at the sound of a car, but you have been. The sight of it sets you on edge, makes your heart beat quick but this time you don’t rush to hide yourself away, to be quiet.

Your hair stands on end in the entryway. You begin to tremble viscerally when you hear Geumjae tread up the steps, hear the turn of the lock.

Geumjae is whistling when he comes in, a jaunty tune. He doesn’t immediately notice that you’re standing there. You shy away from his presence and keep your gaze on the ground. You're so good at being still, at sinking into the backdrop. It takes him a few moments to notice you're there.

He lifts his head, eyes wide for a second and then narrowing. You don’t break routine unless you want something and if you want something you usually have to barter. Geumjae likes taking what you don’t want to give. His glare falls into a scowl, and he places his gun down on the small table just inside the door after he takes out his wallet and keys.

He does not click on the safety.

He shoves past you, almost knocking you into the wall. Your shoulder throbs but you follow him. He turns hand raised. You flinch and close your eyes, but the slap never comes.

Geumjae strokes down your cheek, fingering the hollow of your cheekbone. You blink and bite back the impulse to gag. Keeping your lips pursed.

“What. Do. You. Want.”

A bit of saliva hits your face but you do your best not to tremble.  His voice is devoid of emotion or empathy or even rage. That much shouldn’t surprise you. You look into his eyes, the same eyes that Yoongi has only empty. Devoid of their warmth or half-humor. Blank and flat. It takes all of your energy to be brave. But it’s easy to be brave for Yoongi.

“I think somethings wrong with your brother.” Your voice comes out as hardly more than a whisper, but it’s steady. “I think something happened to him.”

~-~

Yoongi’s knuckles are bloody, that’s the first thing that he’s aware of when he comes to.

Blood feels different than water, slippery, and dries quicker on his fingertips as he starts to fight his restraints. His fingers grip the wood, the handrail of the chair he sits in. He startles, a sticky feeling and the taste of blood in his mouth and throat. At odds with the sandpapery feeling of his tongue and gums. The inside of his cheek feels tender. He tongues it where he’s bitten it.

The room is dark, but he’s not alone. Coming out of a chloroform daze is dizzying at best and nauseating at worst. One second the figure is across the room, the next he’s right next to Yoongi gripping his hair and pushing his slack head away violently. Yoongi does not feel it, Yoongi is having a hard time feeling anything in any clarity. He watches as the man in front of him traces his knuckles with a knife, there are small cuts up and down his fingers already, Yoongi can see the bone on one of his knuckles but the rest are thin, almost superficial. They will still scar.  

Yoongi cannot feel the pain, Yoongi can hardly feel anything over the cold.

Panic starts to bleed down his back, just as the realization that he’s immobile. Bound to this chair by a crisscross of dark ropes. The scratchy kind, not soft. He struggles. But they’re bound too tight. Yoongi doesn't have anything on him, not a gun nor a knife, not that he could even move an inch to use it.

“For a second I thought I used too much chloroform. It’s good that you’re awake, now I can make it slow.”

The man is nondescript. Yoongi does not recognize his stature or his voice. Nor the color of his eyes behind the ski mask. Brown, but not dark brown. This person is surely a stranger to him and yet he laughs as though he's just won the lottery practically shaking with anticipation as he drags the knife down Yoongi’s cheek.

“Interesting how this has all played out. You in the chair at the end of my knife for once.”

Yoongi hesitates, the fuzz behind his eyes more indicative of drugs or a hangover rather than a concussion. The man grabs his hair, making his neck arch so he can trace the knife over his jugular.

"You better have a good way to get out of this." Yoongi spits, at least his words don’t come out slurred.

"I don't need a way out." The man hums deep. “I’m not the one whose about to die.”

“You think people won’t know? Come on, I’m watched like a hawk. There’s not a person in this city that doesn’t know where I am and when I’m gone. They’ll know, they’ll find out.” Yoongi’s pulse beats so quick he can feel it against the ropes that bind his body.

“You’re not some god, you’re just cut from the same cloth as your shit brother, and you'll get no fair trial, just like he got, you didn't even wait, you didn't even- piece of shit-” His knife presses under Yoongi’s throat, hard enough that if he breathes, he’s dead. Yoongi’s pulse thunders treacherously loud. A beat of sweat or blood drips down his collarbones. “This is for-”

Yoongi looks up at the sealing. Closes his eyes and thinks of Seokjin. Of the pack. Of Jungkook's curly hair through his fingers, the sound of Jimin's laugh. Taehyung's deep hum at nighttime when Yoongi curls up with him not to sleep but to dream and read. He thinks of Hoseok in the front seat of Namjoon's car. He thinks of Namjoon, his hands. Bigger than Yoongi's. Yoongi’s knuckles go white as he grips the chair and imagines the kiss of the knife against his throat is Seokjin’s lips instead.

The next breath that comes out of his chest goes easy,

The world explodes.

The metal door at the front of the room cracks open with a boom so loud it rattles Yoongi's bones. The room fills with the smell of smoke and gunpowder. Flashes of light bloom in the darkness. Gunshots. Something hot rips by his ear, barely nicking him. The chair explodes, and Yoongi feels at least one shard of wood bury it’s self in his shoulder.

And then it's quiet beyond the ringing in his ears and the figure is no more, lying on the floor in a bloody heap. A bloody heap that people step over. Black figures that half blend into the darkness. Shouting his name, shouting something that Yoongi can’t hear over the ringing in his ears.

Something bright tickles his face, silver hair, a discarded ski mask on the floor. Silver hair covers his face- Moonbyul?

There is another figure, smaller than her, wearing a bulletproof vest that doesn't fit, too big. It makes it hard for you to move but you still duck underneath a tall alpha to cup his cheeks. For a second, Yoongi even thinks it’s real.

Yoongi sags against your body weight. Saying something he can't hear through the ringing. Mouth moving around the words. Your lip- your lip is bloody again and the side of your face-

Yoongi tucks his chin into your shoulder. You're shaking. Blood drips down his ear from where the bullet nicked him.

Face wounds always did bleed a lot

Moonbyul looms over you, pushing you aside gently to cut him loose. The second that his hands are slack he grips yours, both of them in his. His blood slides across your hands. He can’t even speak, can hardly see.

Everything goes from muffled to too loud. Yoongi feels nauseous and tries not to vomit on to you. “It’s okay, Yoongi, it’s okay you're going to be okay-"

Yoongi presses his face against the side of your neck, breathing deeply.

You smell like cake. The fresh kind, just out of the oven, Neither vanilla nor sugary nor milk sweet. Somewhere between sugar cones and fresh bread. You smell like warmth.

Yoongi noses into your scent gland and his eyes roll back.

~-~

Yoongi is on the bottom floor of your house, not in the sitting room where you usually take your coffee and cookies and pastries, but in the grand dining room with the glittering chandelier. It’s nearing 4am and he feels like he’s so tired he could scream.

There are more medical supplies on the table than can be found in the typical small city emergency room, and more opioids too as the family doctor checks him out after stitching up his ear and the cut on his knuckles. The rest are too shallow for anything more than band aids and cream.

But still. Yoongi’s hands are basically sort of wrecked. If it weren’t for the painkillers, he doubts he could move them at all without serious discomfort.

She shines a light in Yoongi's eyes. The family's on-call doctor is paid handsomely for her ability to keep quiet and produce a mostly sterilized mini operating room in any of their kitchens, backrooms, or dens. Yoongi’s seen her remove many bullets and knives in his lifetime. He’s even seen her re-inflate a collapsed lung in a parking garage. She's familiar. Her face pinched in concentration and concern.

There are some people like her that the family keeps on retainers, not a part of the family, not officially but inexorably tied to them. Like the hitmen and the crime scene cleaners that dispose of evidence. She technically doesn't belong to a single house. They're subcontractors in their world, underworld temps.

An emergency meeting of the heads of house has been called, and they gather, looming over Yoongi like a menacing set of helicopter parents or maybe vultures intent on picking him clean.

Geumjae is wearing gloves, black, leather maybe? Or are they plastic? he’s always particular about leaving fingerprints. Certain things have never been trained out of him- even if he’s no longer doing any dirty work.

Yoongi knows better. Geumjae crosses his arms, watching Yoongi.

He disappeared a moment ago, into the other room. It had taken everything Yoongi had in him not to go check on you. He had heard Geumjae's audible command. "Go change and clean yourself up, you're getting blood all over the sofa. And come back down, we're not finished yet."

Geumjae is angry, Yoongi can smell it in the air, probably because it's Moonbyul who was the savior and the hero of tonight. She's the one who actually tracked Yoongi down, who organized the hit on the unoccupied warehouse where he was stored. She gets many appreciative touches to her shoulders and a few approving nods. But her silver eyes remain fixed on Yoongi, not cold, but still calculating.  

You'd gone to her, must have. If you were there when he was found, no one mentions your name. No one congratulates you. It irks him. If he was more awake and less dulled from painkillers right now, he'd probably say something.

“I don’t understand how this happened or why. He’s a beta, he can’t be killed.”

Moonbyul's omega- Hyejin, the only omega in attendance turns back to them, whip-sharp. Correcting her. “Anyone can be killed.”

The head of house of the Miyazato family drops to his knees in front of Yoongi and takes his hands in theirs. It takes everything in his self-control not to rip his hands away, now bound with thin sutures. "I promise Sajangnim, we'll find out who did this and dispatch them swiftly."

The others clamor to offer similar supplications. "I'm prepared to offer 20 men to rotate outside the cottage so that you'll never be alone Beta-shii."

"The 59th precinct is at your disposal, give the order and we'll comb the streets."

"Why would you comb the streets Meimei? The man who did this is already dead."

"But maybe they had an accomplice!"

Yoongi can't tell if it's all the talking that's giving him the headache, if it's the chloroform, or because he hasn't drunk any water in almost 24 hours. Hyejin cracks a bottle of water and hands it over when he asks.

"What kind of family are we if we can't protect our own?" The doctor stops her fussing, and Yoongi holds his head in his hands.

"We all need to be more careful."

"Enough."

Although his words are quiet, the world falls silent. Someone offers their hand to help Yoongi stand but he doesn't need it. Pushing himself to his feet using the edge of the dining room table. "All of this can wait for the morning," Yoongi says thank you and goodbyes, mostly to Moonbyul. Thanking her with a hand on her shoulder. She grips his arm back, leaning low to whisper in his ear.

“You know I’m not the one who deserves your thank you.”

Yoongi swallows and nods. Most of the family files out, sending fearful or jealous glances in Moonbyul’s direction. No doubt her actions tonight have moved her up on the hierarchy. Slipping on their shoes in the entranceway, Double-checking with the men stationed outside the front door.

But Yoongi doesn't pay attention to them. Yoongi walks to the sitting room.

You are sitting there on the same fine furniture where You and Yoongi usually take your tea and cakes. Two men are guarding either window in tactical gear, with all manner of weapons on their waists and holding AK-47s and handguns tucked into holsters at their waists. The dress you wear is dainty and delicate. A white night dress. Yoongi notices one of them looking at you, promptly trailing their gazes away when Yoongi comes into the room.

You turn to look at him and Yoongi almost chokes on his next breath.

The left side of your face is black and blue, and your cheekbone is split. Lip split too, mottled all the way down to your collarbones. So black and blue that he doubts makeup could cover it up. Yoongi can tell by the way that you hold yourself that your body is hurting, that Geumjae has hurt you. All likely, because of him. Because you'd tried and succeeded in saving him.

Yoongi takes one step into the room.

“Shame on you both for not inviting me to the tea party” Geumjae snickers from behind him, to the side, standing out of view. Yoongi’s fists tighten, and the bandages on his hands pull taught. Irritating his cut knuckles. "Can I come to the next one?" He taunts.

At the sound of Geumjae’s voice you turn away from Yoongi and stare straight ahead.   

~-~

(35 days before, Yoongi)

As the weeks drag on Yoongi’s attention gets spread thinner and thinner, the deadline for selecting Don draws nearer and nearer, and Yoongi watches you disappear through his fingers, like smoke or steam.

The softness you’ve shown him and your easy meetings become a memory. No longer. Because you had to tell Geumjae about them to convince him that Yoongi was missing, to save him- you had to let your husband know.  Your simple routine of cooking together and coffee in teacups gets farther and farther away. Becomes little more than a memory.

A good memory. Your last good memory maybe, because Yoongi is leaving soon.

You become more and more silent as the weeks go on. When he sees you at family dinners, you’re vacant. Nothing behind your eyes that looks like life. Your eyes slide over Yoongi like he’s not there. Like he doesn’t exist to you.

During the weekly family dinners, you look more and more worn. Thankful that no one asks you to speak. Hardly even bothering to pick at your food and make it look like you’re eating. Even across the table, Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away from you. He has to keep it in his seat- to not make an issue out of it under the hawk-like eyes of the heads of the family. There's little that he can do beyond jab at Geumjae and watch you fade.

You don’t look at him, even when he speaks to you. You respond when he asks you a direct question. But you keep your responses brief. Your voice cracking like you haven’t used it in days.

He walks by the house near constantly, whenever he’s not called upon, waiting for an opening. An opportunity. Hoping that this time when he walks by there won't be any cleaning cars parked on the sidewalk or one of Geumjae's fancy cars parked in the driveway. It feels like he's some stray, pacing back and forth and scratching at your door.

At family dinner times, if he extends his legs as far as he can go without slouching in his chair. He can get his ankle side by side with yours. Your skin feels cold most of the time. Most of the time you're shivering. Geumjae has...changed your uniform.

Before you saved Yoongi's life, the things your husband made you wear were fancy and demure, more in line with what the other omega’s in the family wear. Now they're scandalous and out of place. Plunging necklines and short hems. Geumjae forces you to wear increasingly more unseemly things regardless of the cold and the season. He can tell you’re uncomfortable with what you’re wearing by the way that you fidget constantly pulling down the hem and up the neckline.

But Yoongi guesses that it’s just another way for him to control you. To humiliate you. To parade you around.

Geumjae invites Yoongi over for tea, and Yoongi can't stay away. He has to see you.

When he enters the house is cold and quiet. There are none of your usual staff around, no cleaning ladies or private chefs. Just more armed guards standing tall and muscled, willowy and quick. All alpha’s. There is one by the door wearing a suit to let Yoongi inside, but the rest are in tactical gear. Geumjae isn’t the only head of house whose called on a more permanent detail in the wake of Yoongi’s abduction.

Everyone is on edge, if Yoongi could be abducted so easily then they’re all fair game. Regardless of the moratorium on murder during the 120-day period.

When Geumjae invites him in you’re just sitting there in the Livingroom. You don’t meet Yoongi’s gaze when he says your name. There is no recognition in your face at all. You are a doll perfectly trained. Sitting pretty and slutty in the clothes that your husband has picked out for you.

You are sitting on the couch with your legs Infront of you. The thong you wear does little to provide any bit of modesty. Most of you is hidden by your legs, pressed together so hard bone meets bone. In any other scenario Yoongi would look away, would give you your privacy, he can see the darkness of your nipple through the translucent lace of your bralette. Too small, much too small. It makes anger boil behind his eyes, makes his hands shake.

There are six armed guards in this room. All alpha’s. One by the exit to the sitting room, one by the entrance to the dining room, one by each window, and one more by the stairs. They’re all from the Min family. Distant relatives and distant cousins. Yoongi even recognizes one of the alpha women for her short brown hair alone. All of them armed to the teeth just like the night he was brought home. They watch you out of the corner of their eyes, Hands on their guns.

You do not raise your eyes to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

Geumjae grins, staring at Yoongi, watching the horror on his face with something like excitement as Yoongi takes in your predicament. “I’ll get your coffee; she told me that’s what you liked. She’d have made honey cakes for you, but she’s been rather busy.”

Geumjae’s eyes rove your body, raking it, tearing it up just by looking. He looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you and make you nothing but shit after digesting. You shouldn’t feel so hurt by it, but every second his eyes are on you, every inch he sees hurts. A knife poking you from the inside out would hurt less. A bullet would be gentler.

You want to cut out every inch he looks at, what to peel away your skin like a butterfly shedding its chrysalis or a worm hatching wriggly. You wish you could take what he sees, what he likes, and shove it down his throat and make him choke on his own satisfaction.

He likes looking at you, and you hate it. Your vision goes shaky, and your breath starts to feel bigger than your lungs, an earthquake from the inside out, a catastrophe that only you can feel.

You’re trembling faintly. Yoongi’s not sure that if it’s from fear or the cold. Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but beyond that he gives no outward reaction. Of course, Geumjae had interrogated you about your weekly (sometimes daily) meetings. Of course, he throws the evidence of all he knows back in Yoongi’s face now.

Geumjae goes to get the teapot, and the second he’s out of sight Yoongi pulls off his sweatshirt and puts it over your head, guiding your arms through it. You need a little help. One of your hands is so swollen that you can’t open your fingers. Yoongi wonders if Geumjae stepped on it or if you held it up Infront of your face when he was hitting you. Both options make him feel sick with anger. Breath hitching when your fingers skim his for a second. Squeezing his wrist hard.  Yoongi’s mouth goes dry. And he knows he has seconds.

“There you go, there you go. you’re so cold,” but you don’t respond. “it’s alright. You’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He says, barely daring to whisper the words. The men around the room stare straight ahead blankly.

You don't respond. Staring blankly off into space. Yoongi's hands shake with rage, wishing there was more he could do. But all too soon Geumjae’s tapping of his leather shoes returns to the doorway. Holding a fresh pot and a pretty gilded teacup, smiling when Yoongi looks back up at him, crouched Infront of you, standing to his feet at his presence. Barely resisting the urge to put his body in-between yours and his.

“See Yoongi? I told you she only needed a firm hand- she’s as good as tamed now.”

Your tea party does not go as it normally does. Not this time. Yoongi does has a job in the family- and that job is primarily to offer advice. Geumjae actually does need his help with something and Yoongi is bound to offer it. He makes his words clipped and his sentences shitty. Geumjae gets increasingly more annoyed the more predictable Yoongi’s responses become. But Yoongi would rather bite off his own fingers than help.

They talk through the business of the mole, if anyone’s found who orchestrated Yoongi’s abduction yet. Which house- if any house, was the man connected too.  

You don’t even lift your teacup to your mouth. Yoongi tries not to watch you more than Geumjae, tries but it’s hard.

Eventually Geumjae does not feel like playing along with him. Gets tired.

“Eat.” He commands, and you lift a biscuit to your mouth. “chew” he commands. And you chew. Yoongi’s cup clatters into its saucer. “Actually, I changed my mind, spit it out. Can’t have you gaining too much weight.”

Geumjae holds out his hand, and you spit it out into his hand. Geumjae wipes the chewed food on your face. It’s not a lot. You’d hardly taken a bite. But Yoongi does not manage to stay in his seat. Geumjae mirrors him, pressed almost chest to chest with Geumjae in seconds.

“You can’t be fucking serious- you-” rage feels like muteness, Yoongi is going to hit Geumjae, is going to lose his temper if he’s not careful. Yoongi shoves him, and Geumjae laughs.

You pull on Yoongi’s pant leg, just once. And he makes the mistake of looking down.

“I think my brother is tired,” Geumjae says, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in Yoongi’s collar. There is still chewed food on his fingers.  “We can continue talking tomorrow when you’re not so worked up.”

Geumjae looks down at you. “Princess, give him back his sweatshirt, we can’t have him walking home in the cold without anything can we.”

The sweatshirt pools around your waist and goes almost to your knees when you stand up. Yoongi is already fairly average for a man, Yoongi has always liked his clothes big and baggy, and his sweatshirt looks massive on you. The soft swells you had when he first met you are gone now.

You stand up wordlessly, you reach for your hem right there regardless of the guards (and Yoongi’s) eyes on you. You lift them hem over your head. Pealing the sweatshirt off of your nearly naked body without a thought.

You are tiny. Smaller now than when he met you. He can see every one of your ribs when you lift your arms over your head to take off the red sweatshirt.  

Yoongi wonders what else he's made you do Infront of them. Geumjae smirks, looking satisfied.

That’s what does Yoongi in.

"Turn around." He snaps, and every one of the guards follows suit. Even you listen, staring to turn before Yoongi sets a hand on your bare shoulder. Tilting your face up to his. Making you look at him.

His sweatshirt falls to the floor.

The men in their uniforms and guns turn. You raise your eyebrows, like you're confused, like you think it's you being ordered. But Yoongi just cups your cheek.

You almost flinch at the gentle touch, so unused to it. To being touched with anything like this. To being touched without it being painful.

Yoongi can see the blood draining from Geumjae’s face. Can see the guards straighten up, their hands readying on their guns, Nervous.

"Go upstairs and put some close on." You are only too happy to follow Yoongi's orders, to slink past the man at the stairs, teetering on unsteady footsteps as you ascend the staircase up to the second floor.

Only once you’re out of sight does Yoongi address the alpha’s in the room. Each of them standing up a little straighter. As if they finally remember who Yoongi is. They should remember.

He should remind them.

“Turn back around.” They turn. “Take a step back.” They step back. Yoongi watches a drop of sweat blead down Geumjae’s temple. He grins, showing his teeth.

“Hand me your gun.” The guard closes to him takes a handgun out of its holster and hands it to Yoongi. Geumjae’s grin falters just a little.  Yoongi flicks off the safety, appraises the gun quickly before he takes the clip out. Popping the bullets out onto the floor one by one, they fall to the floor with a clink. heartbeat by heartbeat. More than one alpha flinches as the last one falls.  

Yoongi liberates the stock from the barrel lets the gun fall to pieces around him.

“Another.” The next man hands him the gun and Yoongi does not disassemble it, just takes it and flicks off the safety.

“Actually, I changed my mind, look at him. All of you. Look at my brother. Don’t you dare fucking blink.”

Geumjae does not show any outward signs of fear as Yoongi holds the gun by his side. he doesn’t look anything other than cool and calm. Yoongi lets the silence stew for a moment. Just a moment.

"If he does that to her again, you are to call me. Any alpha that does will be compensated accordingly." Geumjae's sneer worsens. But he doesn't interfere. They stand like that. Separate from each other by a few feet. Yoongi’s hand sweaty on the gun.

"If it wasn't for what would happen to her, I'd put a bullet in your head."

"If it wasn't for your sub gender, I'd put one in yours."

Yoongi and Geumjae glare at each other from across the room for a second. Then Yoongi puts on his sweatshirt. He lifts the gun, “I’m keeping this.” And tucks it into the pocket.

He leaves.

He tucks his nose into the collar and puts up the hood against the oncoming rain. Pausing on the street corner. It smells like you. The sweatshirt.

When Yoongi looks back at the house, there is a figure upstairs silhouetted in the window. He nods at you, and you nod back.

~-~

(22 days before, Yoongi)

Yoongi wears your sweatshirt until your scent fades from the fabric. But even after it feels like the smell of rain follows him always. It’s a rainy winter. Not cold enough to snow but cold enough to freeze.

His long walks cover him in it, at the constant complaints of his detail. He can only dismiss the young alphas that the family appoints to guard him so many times. Guarding the beta against another assassination attempt is a privilege they say, an honor. But Yoongi just needs some peace and quiet. Just needs some space and time to think through his plan, more and more flimsy feeling as the days stretch on.

Things get worse and they don’t really get better.  

Geumjae takes Yoongi’s continual presence as a personal threat. He can’t take it out on the beta, so he takes it out on you instead. In the field, Geumjae is the perfect leader, cool and calm and collected. Sure, he shoots first and asks questions never but there are worse heads of house. People who are less competent. Geumjae is capable of showing restraint.

Just not with you.

At home Geumjae lets his worst impulses run wild. Before Geumjae knew about the tea parties (Yoongi has yet to find a word he likes better) he never invited Yoongi to your personal family meals. But now he gets invited to every single one.

He sees you in all manner of get-ups, scantily clad and see-through dresses, skirts that barely cover everything but never anything as bare as the very first time. He sees you wear lipstick smudged. Mascara runny. Bruises boldly on display.

Yoongi promises himself quietly, that if he ever gets you out of here, you’ll never get hurt like this again.

Yoongi tries to intervene, tries to, but it never goes well for you, so he stops himself. Geumjae likes to make Yoongi watch.

Yoongi’s is there when he backhands you after you drop a plate. Yoongi doesn’t keep himself in his seat- can’t stop himself from standing and grabbing his brother's arm before he deals another blow. And maybe it only makes it worse for you because you’re twice as bruised the next time he sees you, but Yoongi’s hands shake with the way you’d looked at him from the floor- holding your cheek defiant and alive. Like you still have a fight left in you.

It’s a look he tries to remember as time goes on and your fighting spirit fades.

You don’t deserve any of this from Geumjae, not the backhanded compliments that have you pushing the food around your plate. The ones that have you not eating at all, not even the sweets that you make, piles and piles of them.

Geumjae makes you bake a chocolate cake, bringing it out to Yoongi on uneven footsteps, the heels you wear towering. It's a pretty cake, topped with cherries and chocolate ganache. It smells like Yoongi smells when he's happy. Only once you've put it on the table does Geumjae push your face down into it.

When Geumjae leaves the room. Yoongi uses a rag to clean your face.

Yoongi’s surprised he didn’t realize it sooner; that you hardly eat at family dinners. Maybe it would be easier to stomach if you weren’t so small. Terribly thin. "She's gained weight since our honeymoon." Geumjae justifies when Yoongi asks. "She's a good wife brother, she knows to do anything she has to do to keep me in her corner."

He thinks back to the moon family dinner and how you’d almost collapsed because of your tight corset. He wonders if that was because of hunger or truly because you couldn’t breathe.

He doubts he’ll ever know the answer.

~-~

Yoongi stops coming over. Stops coming on Mondays and Wednesdays, and you stop texting him.

Well, not entirely.

You develop your own code. You send Yoongi a blank message, a simple text without any words in it, and he’s on his way. And anyone who saw it, Geumjae or otherwise could just assume that it was a typo, a but dial. An accident.

Even if it's anything but.

All he has to do is see your contact light up his phone before he's up and out of whatever place he currently haunts, the docks, an apartment for a meeting, an underground storehouse for stolen goods. You text and Yoongi always comes.

If you don’t send him anything. He knows better than to try.

~-~

(10 days before, Yoongi).

The day comes again when Yoongi gets a text and comes to your house and finds the windows dark, finds the house empty. You are sitting on the couch again. Blankly staring off into space. You don’t react when Yoongi calls your name.

You’re done up but not even the thickest full-coverage makeup could hide the bruises. Yoongi wonders why you try. He gets down on his knees Infront of you and takes your hands in his.

He got an empty text a few minutes ago, he might have stayed nearby at a coffee shop down the block. He’s taken to waiting there when he doesn’t have someone calling upon him. One family or another that wants his ear- or more likely another chance to convince him. The days are counting down, pretty soon anyone but him will be fair game.

Yoongi knows the heads of house are not above murdering each other to become Don. Once the moratorium on murder is over, Yoongi fears it will be all out war.

In truth, Yoongi has no idea who he’s going to choose, no idea at all if he’ll choose Geumjae or Moonbyul or any other family members. Yoongi’s hasn’t thought about it much- but he probably will have to over the next few days.

At least before the Gala.

For now, Yoongi kneels down Infront of you with a creek of his knees, pulling your hands into his. There is no one here. No one here at all besides you and him. “I’m going to take you away okay? Just for today. I’m getting you out of this goddamn house.” You do not respond. Staring blankly ahead. You are already dressed, in comfortable clothes. Yoongi helps you into some snow boots. Yoongi ties the scarf around your neck.

You don’t go far because he’s not sure you could manage it. You still don’t say anything, but you don’t need to. He takes you to a diner down the block. The food is cheap and greasy and filling. The booth in the back of the shop is secluded and there aren't even any cameras.

You eat half your plate, and Yoongi counts it as a win.

You sit on the same side of the booth, and after you're done you lean your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are still staring blankly ahead, and your voice is so soft barely a whisper.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend.”

Yoongi tries not to pay attention to the warmth of your body, failing not to luxuriate in it, to savor it, to imprint the feeling of your body resting gently against his. Happy to be a refuge, happy to be a safe harbor however temporarily. He carefully threads his fingers still crisscrossed pink with scars through yours, finally healed enough that you can move your fingers.

The top of your head will smell like him by the time you pull away. He hopes he smells like you too. You’ve never scent-marked him, you’ve never nested or shown even the slightest omegan instinct Infront of him. Yoongi has never put thought to it before. But now he wonders if you’ve just never felt safe enough for any of that to come out. He's still never smelled what your scent is like when you're happy. Maybe there was that one moment when you rescued him- but he's half convinced that was a dream anyway.

“Finally feel like talking Ey?” You exhale against him, your body limp. You don’t pull away from him, you don’t even look up at him. Yoongi wishes you'd fight him, that you'd banter back. But it scares him, it scares him that you don't even have that in you anymore.  

“At the beginning, Geumjae forbade me from talking to anyone that wasn’t him. I was so scared back then." Yoongi can almost taste the memory of that fear on your scent, he breathes in, imprinting the scent of you to memory. Even if it's your sad scent, even if he hates what it represents.

"I didn’t know how to act like you guys do, how to be taken seriously, how to say this the right way, how to dress like that-"

"I don’t act in any-"

"Yes. You do. You’re different but you can’t help it." Yoongi goes quiet, let's you speak. The tone of your voice firm. "I couldn’t understand what they were saying anyway. But it was still so isolating.”

You watch the people bustle back and forth out the distant windows, the people bundled up against the cold and snow. Underneath the table, you clutch at Yoongi’s hand. Your grip isn’t harsh, But Yoongi knows it’s the strongest you can make it.

“I didn’t speak to another soul for weeks, months, not even to him. It made him so angry when I wouldn’t even react, but I’d go to this little place inside my head, far away from Geumjae, far away from anything he could do to hurt me. A place where he can’t touch me. I still go there sometimes. I’m sorry."

Yoongi’s heart is in his throat. “It’s alright.” He says after a moment, unsure what to say to that and unsure how to provide a comfort that you’ll accept, that will do more good than harm.

“I tried to do everything, I tried to be perfect, I tried to be what they wanted and look at where it’s gotten me.” your eyes flicker up to his, “look where it’s gotten both of us.”

You’re silent for a long time after that, but Yoongi doesn’t prod you for more, on the contrary. “You don’t have to speak if you don’t want too, I don’t mind.” You tap your fingers against his knuckles, gently exploring the scarf tied to his wrist, now worn and frayed at the edges because Yoongi hasn’t taken it off in weeks.

You don’t say another thing for the rest of the night. Not when he leans in, resting his cheek across the top of your head. Clouds blanket the city, but even above the cloud cover, there’s not a star in the sky.

~-~

(7 days before, Yoongi)

The promise of home looms, uncertain. Yoongi has not tried to reach out to the pack since before his phone was broken and has not contacted them at all in 113 days. He wonders if they’re going crazy still or if they’re mad enough that they don’t give a shit about him anymore.

By this time next week, Yoongi will have made his choice. By this time next week Yoongi could be on his way to them.

Freedom is a dirty word, tastes like rain on his tongue. What is to become of you then?

Maybe it’s better this way, maybe it’s better if they never know. And Yoongi can live with a mostly clear conscience because at least for a brief while, he'd had gotten to fall in love and have it reciprocated. Not just once but 6 times. Yoongi knows he's gotten more love than most. In the end, he's done everything he could to protect them.

Yoongi closes his eyes looking up at the ceiling in the cottage, intent on daydreaming until he falls asleep. It’s late now, nearing 1am. He really should get some sleep. The gala and the naming of Don is barely 7 days away, 6 if Yoongi counts the days by the date and not by the number of sleeps. The minutes tick down, as important as a heartbeat. The red alarm clock in the corner blinks, and his suitcase remains in the corner, still open. Yoongi has never really unpacked. Never intending on staying for long.

Yoongi has just closed his eyes when a short knock comes at the front door.

(Like I said, Yoongi's conscience is mostly clear, mostly, but not all the way.)

Yoongi blinks awake at the sound of it, quick short efficient wraps against the wood. He runs a hand through his hair annoyance flaring because he’s tired. Wrapped in a robe stolen from the hotel as he opens the front door, the knocking never pausing.

“What the fuck do you- shit-”

You tumble into his arms, clearly having used the front door to prop yourself up. Your front is covered with so much blood that at first it’s hard to tell where you’re bleeding. Panic and fear build and fight to a crescendo as Yoongi drags you inside and kicks the door shut before anyone can see.

Yoongi knows what a lot of blood looks like.

For a horrifying moment, Yoongi thinks that Geumjae has tried to slit your throat.

But then your head moves, lolling to the side in his arms, and he registers that it’s uneven, down your chin to your jaw, not across like a smile. He doesn’t know how you got past the people stationed at the front of his driveway. He wonders how you managed to get them to let you through. Especially looking like this.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

Maybe you just asked nicely. You're kind of a hard person to say no to.

“Don’t apologize, here sit-” you’re holding a blood-soaked cloth under your jaw, Yoongi has to gently cajole you into taking it away. The fibers stick to the gash. The blood barely clotted because whatever cut you was surgically sharp. It’s deep, deep enough that it splits, and Yoongi can see the place where your skin becomes flesh. It's just at the spot where your throat meets your jaw, on the underside of your chin. Yoongi’s not sure if you need stitches. Probably.

 His eyes flicker from it to your eyes.

“He-” You swallow, and wince, and the gash moves. Yoongi has never seen you cry before, has never seen your eyes fill with tears but they do now, wet. Gathering.  “He threw a glass at me.”

Your clothes are soaked with blood. Soaked. Boiling in rage. Yoongi holds your jaw and seals up your gash with a little bit of glue suture that sings so bad that you do cry. And Yoongi can do little more but tell you he’s sorry again and again until he’s done. Forehead pressed to yours letting out these little shushing noises as he tosses the packet and the bloody gauze to the side and holds you.

At least it stops bleeding.

Yoongi wishes he could call Namjoon; Namjoon would know if you needed stitches or medical attention. Namjoon would know what to do- would know what to say and how to get you out of here. He’d soothe your pain and your aches better than Yoongi ever could.

And Seokjin and Jimin would know how to comfort you when you shake so bad that Yoongi can barely do more than dab at it with a cloth. Try to make sure it’s clean of all the glass shards. Taehyung and Hoseok would know how to make you smile after this and Jungkook- Jungkook would hold around your waist, would wrap you up in him to protect you. Using his body as a shield.

They don’t even know you yet and this, Yoongi is sure of. Yoongi is useless at this without them. Yoongi is useless. All these weeks you've been hurting. And he hasn't really been able to protect you at all. Has only been able to minimize the damage and fix you just enough that you’re not dead.

But how many more close calls can you have? How many more days of abuse can you endure?

They’d love you, he’s sure of it.

Exhausted and shaky he stops your bleeding. Yoongi gets you a fresh change of clothes. His sweatshirt is still so large on you that it dusts your knees. It makes you smell like him and if the situation were any less dire it would make Yoongi purr.

While he picks the last of the glass fragments out of your hair, he voices what he’s wanted to say for months. He’s tired of dancing around it.

You watch him wary.

“You know- I could get you out of here if you wanted. If you asked me to do it, I’d make it happen.”

You recoil like Yoongi’s the one to throw a glass in your face. Pulling back from his touch, a shard of glass, pearly, a bit rainbow where it's shattered in concentric circles. Plops onto the small round table.

You're almost breathless with how shocked you are. “I can’t. I can’t leave Yoongi. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you and I can’t be the reason why you don’t go home, I’ll-” You’re speaking so quick he can’t interrupt, can't tell you to damn the consequences. It’s like all your words have been kept back by a floodgate, rippling out now. Your voice shaky with fear. “He’ll get better once you name him Don, right? Then he just won’t be so angry all the time- right? He'll have everything he wants and that will satisfy him. And he’ll be out of the house so much it will hardly feel like we’re even married.”

Yoongi knows that this is just what you've been telling yourself over the last few weeks. That you'll say and think anything to convince yourself that things will one day get better. Anything to give you just a little bit of hope. You are a creature of survival, and survival subsists on hope.

You look like you’re begging Yoongi to reassure you. When you both know that nothing is going to change, some people are just rotten to the core. And Yoongi can’t be forceful with you when you look like you might run out of here just as quickly as you came. Yoongi wonders how long it will take Geumjae to find you and how badly he’ll hurt you this time.

You both know there will only be more of this- more of you trapped. More pain and more terror. Unless you trust Yoongi.

If you trust Yoongi.

Yoongi speaks- trying to figure out what will keep you here the longest, trying as long as he can keep you out of harm’s way. “You don’t deserve this sweetheart; you don't deserve everything he's done to you. You deserve to be loved.” Yoongi's voice cracks, and he sees from the way you recoil- he must have touched on something sensitive. A soft spot or an open wound that Geumjae has made in you.

How many times has he screamed at you that you’re no better than a worm beneath his boot? That you are nothing? Every bit of love you've ever gotten was something you either had to earn or pay for. You won’t show Yoongi it, but there’s a scar on your lower back. A word that Geumjae put there when you had yet to learn your lesson. Each letter hurt when he carved them into your body. Forever. You know they scared bad. He cut deeper than the one on your jaw.

Worthless.

It's written on you in scar tissue. Written on your soul too. There is no hiding it. The sooner Yoongi learns the better.

“Who’s going to love me, Yoongi? Not when I’m like this,” you gesture to yourself, failing to meet his eyes. Holding yourself like it’s the only thing that can give you comfort. And all Yoongi can think is that there is nothing about you that deserves the utter disgust in your voice. He knows, distantly he can hear Seokjin telling him. This is just the low self-esteem talking. Another side effect of the abuse. Damage that goes deeper than any physical bandage or medicine can heal.

The only thing that could help is time and love, and you only have one of those things.

In 6 days Yoongi will be free, but you? You won’t be free from this until Geumjae puts a bullet in your head or someone puts one in his.

His whispered confession is true as he holds the cold cloth back to the cut on your jaw. Beading with blood from the amount that you’ve talked. He hopes his words will soothe that spot too. Any and all damage his brother has done, Yoongi wants to heal.

“I could love you,” he says it so casually like it's nothing. But it's anything but nothing to you.

You shoot up, standing so quick that the blood rushes to your head and you teeter. You can’t see Yoongi’s concern through the tears clouding your vision. You narrowly avoid his outstretched arms, instead gripping the table to keep yourself from falling over. Shaking your head vehemently. Your shin knocks against the coffee table hard as you back away from him. His hands go out to grab you, but he thinks better of it.

“You can’t Yoongi- he’ll kill you. I won’t be the reason why you die- I won’t.” You promise vehemently. “You need to get back to your pack, you need to make it up to them. They need you.”

He takes one step forward. “But you need me too.” You do, that you can’t argue with no matter how much you want to. “Don’t tell me it’s too late to save you when we both know it’s not.”

“It’s not, but I wish I was beyond saving so that you wouldn’t try.”

“You think I have a choice? That I meant to-" love you, he breaks off, half shouting at you now. "Before I met you, I was going to come to this fucking city, name someone Don, and fuck the family for good. I was going to disappear. But now I can't.”

Yoongi realizes his mistake the second you flinch. Sometimes words can hurt too. Can hurt worse than physical damage. When your voice goes soft rather than forceful Yoongi knows he's fucked up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a burden. Let me make the choice easier for you.” You don’t grab your jacket, you fold the cloth, put it on the kitchen counter, and walk out the door.

By the time Yoongi runs after you, you’ve already disappeared down the garden path and into the maze of neon lights. Sinking into the crowds of drunk college kids and businessmen hoping to nurse their hurts in a bottle of liquor. You disappear like a shadow or a wraith. Like you’re already a Spector, already dead.

That night Yoongi dreams of you again. It’s the same dream that he had months ago where he was lying on the fur with the skylight and snow up above. The fur beneath him feels silky and cool, and he lies there just watching you.

The dream is the same. Only this time you're the one with the gun.

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- Ahhh I really like the line ‘Geumjae likes taking what you don’t want to give.’ I think it sums up his character and the type of abuse he puts her through really well.

- Incase it’s not clear- Geumjae did not believe the m/c and punished her when she tried to get him to go to Yoongi. But because she texted Moonbyul (or Hyejin really, it’s up to you to decide who she texted) they were able to rush in and save him. I have to admit even I’m not sure if she’s actually there when Yoongi is rescued, I think it might just have been him hallucinating because of dehydration. I also think Geumjae could have punished her, left the house in a rage/annoyance, and Moonbyul showed up soon after to go rescue Yoongi. I don’t think it really matters what order of events occurred only that it’s Moonbyul and the m/c that saved Yoongi.

- Sajangnim means boss in Korean! Just for clarification

- I think the moment that the m/c looks away from Yoongi is the moment that Yoongi realizes that he’s falling in love with her and that if he leaves her to Geumjae he’ll never forgive himself.

- (Trigger warning: sexual abuse, rape, non-consensual sex acts), I think that Geumjae made the m/c suck him off and raped her infont of the guards at least once, he probably also invited any of them who wanted her to have her and then cut off the dick of the alpha who stepped up to rape her. He also probably made her do lewd things for their entertainment. I think at least one of the guards did report what happened back to Moonbyul, but she didn’t do anything about it or make any move to save the m/c. If anything she probably just took notes to use it against her in the future, to know how to threaten and subtly trigger the m/c to be more subservient. Moonbyul is more of a fan of psychological abuse than physical.

- I feel as though, maybe Yoongi’s words of ‘it’s alright’ are patronizing? But I don’t know what the m/c could hear in this situation that would be comforting. Idk, maybe I’ll think on it some more and change the dialogue here eventually.

- I don’t know if any of you have ever had your skin glued shut but let me tell you it is so fucking painful! It’s literally like! So much more painful than stitches or worse. Maybe because the stuff my abuser used on me was definitely not body safe and I’m pretty sure it was like- hobby glue or the kind they use in tactical but! It’s the worst!! Truly would rather be stabbed again than have to go through it.

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The town square of Wakanda was busy with bodies getting ready for the soon arrival and as Bucky and I stood hand in hand, I could help the way my heart jumped with nerves. I was nervous for the fight and nervous to see Steve again after so long. 

My hair blew with the wind as the jet made its final descent, coming to a halt in front of us. As the ramp opened, I saw my old friends ascend down. They couldn’t see us and I took it as an opportunity to sneak away from them and Bucky, the nerves becoming too much to handle. Bucky was talking with Steve so he hadn’t noticed me walk away. 

Everything was happening too fast and I didn’t have the chance to stop to think about what the outcome would be. 

Maybe Bucky and I could leave, let them fight this on their own. We could go back to our normal lives, something that we both deserved. This wasn’t our fight, we didn’t have to risk our lives for this. 

However, I knew that when it was our fight years ago, all of these people were there to help us, no questions asked. 

“Where’s Y/N?” A voice asked. 

“She was right here,” Bucky said. 

Coming into view, I smiled over towards my friends while giving Sam and Nat a long overdue hug. I nodded towards Wanda who was walking inside with a hurt Vision. 

“How’re you doing?” Nat asked. 

I nodded. “Not bad, for the end of the world.” 

“What’s up Marshmallow?” 

Laughing at the nickname coming from Sam, I lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You had to come along?” 

“Someone has to watch his back,” Sam mentioned towards Steve. 

He was already watching me with intent eyes as I walked over to him, closing the distance between us. 

“I see you took my advice,” I pointed towards the beard and long hair. 

Steve shrugged while wrapping his arms around me in a longing hug. I had missed the way that they felt, protecting me from anything bad. 

“How are you, really?” Steve questioned, lifting my chin to look into my eyes. 

“We’re fine, Steve,” I spoke quietly. “Bucky is good. He’s his old self.” 

Steve nodded before looking between Bucky and I. “Mind if I steal her for a bit? Catch her up to speed?” 

Bucky hesitated, only I saw it, before nodding. “Sure.” 

I closed the large distance between us with a loving kiss. “Don’t worry.” 

With his new fingers on my lower back, he pressed his lips against mine once again, this time longer and deeper. 

“I love you,” he muttered against them. 

“I love you too.” 

“You look like hell,” I noticed Sam as we all stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab. 

A very familiar place to me. 

“Well the motels weren’t exactly five stars,” Sam admitted with a small laugh. 

I then nodded towards Bruce and Nat, who themselves were having a private conversation. 

“Talk about awkwardness, huh?” 

Sam laughed again. “You have no idea.” 

“Y/N.” 

Excusing myself from Sam, I walked over towards Steve, who was standing in front of a large window, looking down towards the fields of Wakanda. 

“Does everything make sense?” He asked. 

“Yeah, as crazy as it sounds.” I said 

“And you’re ready for it?” He asked again, motioning towards my hands. “Bucky mentioned that you haven’t used it for awhile.” 

I grasped my hands together with a sigh. “I wanted something normal for us. To be honest, I don’t even know if it still works. I haven’t found a reason to get mad lately.” 

“With what’s coming, I think it would be best to get mad,” Steve suggested. 

Silence fell between us and I was going to walk away from him but his hand in mind stopped me. 

“Can you promise me something?” 

I nodded. 

“Promise that no matter what comes, that you take care of yourself first. Don’t worry about Buck or I. I can’t deal if something would happen to you,” Steve admitted while gently cupping my cheek. 

Licking my dry lips at the warmth of his glove, I nodded again. 

“Only if you do something for me,” I spoke. 

“Anything,” he breathed. 

“If something does happen to me, make sure he moves on. I don’t want him to dwell on it. He deserves to be happy,” I said with a shaky breath. 

Steve hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting out a large breath. 

“But it’s not going to come to that, right?” 

Tearing myself away from Steve’s sad gaze, I looked towards Natasha and nodded. 

“Can she do it?” I asked, changing the subject and walking away from Steve. 

The questionable outcome weighed heavy on my mind but there was always one thing that was clear. If something were to happen to me, whatever it was, I needed to make sure that Bucky moved on. He couldn’t dwell on me or what happened. It was true what I told Steve; Bucky deserved to be happy, even if I had passed. 

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from above us, shaking the castle. I looked around everyone in the room before my eyes landed finally on Steve, a knowing look on his face. 

“They’re here,” I said. 

“Get this man a shield!” T’challa pointed towards Steve before shouting more directions to others. 

“Bucky,” I muttered while leaving the room and sprinting outside the castle. 

Bucky and Sam were standing in the middle of the town center, staring up towards the sky. 

Gunshots rain down on us but thankfully they couldn’t break the barrier that was protecting us. 

“God, I love this place,” Bucky admitted. 

“You guys alright?” I questioned while standing in between them. 

Sam nodded. “How’re they doing up there?” 

“It’s going to take awhile for Shuri to recreate a stone,” I admitted. 

We watched in slight horror when ships came from the sky, landing right outside the protective dome. 

“Cap, we’ve got a situation out here.” I said into my com. 

The grass flattened beneath my boots as we stood on the open field, preparing ourselves for the fight. 

“Doll?” 

I looked over to Bucky. “Hm?” 

Without saying a word, handed me one of his guns, silently knowing that I wasn’t quite ready to use my powers. 

“Be careful,” he said. 

“You too,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together.

My attention was averted from Bucky as I shook my fingers, trying to bring the spark to life, but groaned in defeat. 

I never would have thought that when I decided to not use them any more that it would backfire. Now would be the perfect time to be able to use them. 

“Did they surrender?” I asked Steve as he returned to his spot next to me. 

T’challa, Nat, and him walked down to the edge of the barrier, trying to talk to the alien species. 

“Not exactly,” he sighed. 

Suddenly, thousands of aliens came from the ships, running towards the barrier that was protecting us, killing themselves in the process. 

“They’re killing themselves,” I muttered. 

The few that made it through, alive, charged towards us and without a second thought, all of us raised our weapons to prepare for war. 

Bucky and I shot bullets towards the aliens that made it close to us. I knew, deep down, that no matter how many bullets we had or knives I used, it wouldn’t be enough. 

“You know, Y/N, now would be a perfect time to toast these fuckers,” Sam’s voice came through the com in my ear. 

“You don’t think I’ve tried!” I yelled. “It’s not working!” 

A simple snap of the fingers and nothing. 

“What’s stopping them from trying to enter behind us?” I asked Steve, when I noticed the aliens running around the barrier. 

“We need to open the barrier,” T’challa stated. 

Looking between Steve and Bucky, two men who I would protect with my heart and knowing they would do the same for me. 

“We’re with each other till the end, right?” I asked them both. 

“Always,” Steve spoke. 

“Forever, doll.” Bucky gave a quick kiss to the side of my head. 

With a loud war cry, our army charged forward as T’challa gave the order to open the barrier. Thousands of aliens sprinting towards us. 

[mrspiastri]

filmy dialogues 🎞️

pairing: oscar piastri x desi! reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.5k words

an: ty anon for this request! i loved writing it!! <4

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

"And which one is this again?" Oscar asked as he settled in to watch the movie Y/N had picked out.

"It's a Bollywood movie! You're gonna love it—it was my favorite growing up."

"Is it one of those romance ones?"

Oscar was a bit of a bore when it came to movies. His favorite genre was sci-fi, while Y/N's was rom-coms. Naturally, choosing a movie to watch was always a challenge.

"Well… yes and no. It's like a heist movie, but it has a bit of everything in it, really."

"I don't trust your judgment since you made us watch that movie with those nepo babies."

"That was a mistake on my part, I agree. But this one is so good, I promise."

Movie nights were a staple of the couple’s routine, especially since Oscar was usually busy on weekends. Each week, they took turns picking a movie and rated it based on what they liked most about it. Last week, Oscar had made Y/N watch one of the Star Wars movies. While she wasn’t completely floored, she did agree that Hayden Christensen was a cutie.

"I've got the perfect one. It's called ‘Happy New Year’, and it’s iconic.”

"Very well, bring it on."

🎞️🎞️🎞️

The movie started. They skipped through the opening credits and got to the scene where Charlie's father gets framed.

"How did they just put him in jail? Wouldn't there be a formal investigation? Plus, he remembers being drugged. This is quite unrealistic," Oscar said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N let out a sigh, already used to her boyfriend's antics.

"I'm sure they had one, but he was up against a really powerful guy, you know?"

Oscar nodded, not entirely convinced but not completely dismissing the explanation either. They continued watching, Y/N snuggling further into the couch and against her boyfriend's shoulder. It was an unspoken ritual of sorts—she would gently bump her head against his shoulder repeatedly until he laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

"How did he just hack the voting polls? This is part of a global competition. They have to have better firewalls. Also, Team Diamond was terrible—they got booed off stage! How is everyone just accepting that they won?"

Oscar was a yapper, especially during movies.

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her (his) Sprite. "I mean, they have a hacker on their team. It’s possible."

"Yeah, he's like 19, doing all his hacking from a laptop. A regular DELL laptop. Not even a good computer with a proper processor," Oscar grumbled, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth.

She giggled. "Well, maybe he's just that good. Besides, you don’t even know how to hack."

"That’s beside the point, and you know it."

Eventually, they reached the movie’s climax, with things heating up for the team. Y/N sat staring at the screen like she didn’t already know exactly what was going to happen next—despite having watched the movie six times before.

"Wait, so they just enter the vault with him? How does that work?" Oscar continued, pointing out the movie’s logical flaws.

"I mean, they’re lookalikes, so yeah."

"But that fingerprint probably wouldn’t work. It’s been tampered with, so it should come across as invalid."

"Why are they exiting through the sewers? They could just leave normally. This makes no sense."

"Why are they returning?! Now they’ll get arrested!"

If there was one thing Oscar would do, it was interrupt a romantic date with dumb questions.

"Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on the movie’s accuracy, you know?" Y/N teased. "Think instead about how good Deepika looks in that saree." She winked at him.

"You’d look better anyway, and this movie’s too stupid for me not to point out everything wrong with it."

"But that's the fun, right? You don’t need to think too much while watching. Just laugh at the funny stuff and roll your eyes at the dumb moments. It’s still enjoyable. Also, I never look that good in a saree. That’s why I don’t wear them anymore," she said.

"I think you need to stop choosing the movies from next time. And yes, you do look good! I've seen the photos where you wore that blue one!"

Oscar turned Y/N’s body, which had been leaning against his chest, so that she was facing him.

"That was taken when I was in the twelfth grade! I wore it for my graduation, and it looked dumb then too."

"Well, I think you looked beautiful, and you should wear one to that Diwali party we’re going to."

She looked away, cheeks pink.

"I don’t know… it’s such a hassle to drape one. I can’t even do it without my mom’s help."

"I’m right here, aren’t I? I’ll help." He cheerfully tugged her closer to his chest, resting his head on top of hers. She could hear—almost feel—his heartbeat quicken. It was a subtle reminder that even after all this time, Oscar still got butterflies around Y/N.

"It’s super tricky, especially with the pleats. You sure you can help?" she asked, doing her best to speak from where she was trapped under him.

"I’ll try my best, darling. You’ll look better than Deepika too." He chuckled, making Y/N laugh as well, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through where her head was resting.

"Now, forget about that. I wanna watch them dance and win at the finale!" She wriggled out of his hold, reaching for the remote to unpause the movie.

"Hey, no spoilers!"

"You knew that was going to happen!"

🎞️🎞️🎞️

The movie played on, the sounds of Bollywood music filling the room as the final dance number unfolded. Y/N, grinning, hummed along while Oscar groaned dramatically.

“I swear, if they win despite all the cheating—”

“They will win,” she cut in smugly.

Oscar rolled his eyes but didn’t complain further. His arm tightened around her, absentmindedly playing with her fingers. Y/N glanced up at him, finding that—despite all his so-called complaints—he was watching the screen with a slight smile.

"You're secretly enjoying it, aren’t you?" she accused playfully.

"I am not," he denied immediately, though the way his foot tapped to the music betrayed him.

Y/N smirked, scooting closer. "It’s okay, you can admit it."

Oscar sighed dramatically. "Fine. It’s slightly entertaining."

"Aha! I knew it!"

She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Maybe next time, you’ll actually pick a Bollywood movie yourself."

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Oscar muttered, though his cheeks were pink now too.

They spent the rest of the movie in comfortable silence, save for Y/N’s occasional giggles and Oscar’s inevitable complaints. But when the credits rolled and Y/N stretched, ready to turn the TV off, she felt a pair of arms tighten around her waist.

"Five more minutes, let’s watch the final song,” Oscar mumbled into her hair.

Y/N smiled. "You like cuddling more than watching the movie, don’t you?"

"Maybe."

"That, I’ll allow," she whispered, settling against him once more.

As the grand finale song played, Oscar let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples.

"I don’t know how I just sat through two and a half hours of absolute madness,” he grumbled. "They danced their way into a vault, Y/N. A vault!"

Y/N, completely unbothered, swayed along to the music. "And they looked fabulous while doing it."

Oscar turned to her, suddenly dramatic. "You know what? Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe I need to embrace the bollywoodness of it all."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

He dramatically placed a hand on his heart, took a deep breath, and, with all the seriousness he could muster, attempted a line he had definitely not practiced enough.

“Pyaar… dosti hai, Y/N. Aur agar woh… sabse… accha dost nahi ban… sak—wait, what’s the word?"

Y/N blinked. "Ban sakta?"

"Yeah, that. Ban sakta… toh main usko… kabhi love nahi kar sakta!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Y/N burst out laughing. "That was the most accented Bollywood line I’ve ever heard!”

Oscar groaned. "Oi, cut me some slack! Hindi is hard!"

"It is," Y/N giggled, still shaking her head. "But you get points for effort."

Oscar leaned back into the couch, shaking his head. "I swear, your movies make it sound so easy. Everyone's just casually breaking into song, dropping poetic love lines, hacking government servers with a budget laptop—"

"That’s the magic of it."

He turned to look at her, her face still lit up from laughing, her eyes sparkling as she hummed along to the credits song.

Oscar sighed, shaking his head. "You know what? Maybe I should start watching more of these. Get my Hindi right. Who knows, I might actually end up enjoying one of them."

Y/N gasped. "Wait—are you saying you’ll finally watch ‘Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham’ with me?"

Oscar groaned. "I walked right into that, didn’t I?"

"Absolutely."

He sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled her closer. "Fine. But I’m allowed to complain."

"You always do."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Fair."

And as the music played on, he had to admit—maybe Bollywood wasn't all bad, especially if he had her next to him singing along to all the songs.

my first request!! i was so geeked about this lol. also im sorry if you haven’t watched happy new year but it is unfortunately one of my favourites so go watch it rn its so stupidly good haha <4

[arihi]

Charmed! 2025 (A Community Recap)

Charmed 2025 happened this past weekend, the 10th anniversary. My con recaps of years past desperately tried to fit in as much detail and information of each day, play-by-plays as I tagged everyone I could remember, talked about all the classes I'd been to, the people I'd met. Nowadays, I'm content to just do a general overview.

I spent a lot of time pensive and thinking about my time spent in the community and during cons. The 10th anniversary for Charmed meant that marked 9 years since I'd come out to my very first one. Longer in the community when I was still only online. How does the time fly by so quickly? It doesn't feel real. I still feel very new, and yet when I look around I'm surrounded by unfamiliar faces, cons growing too large and too quickly for me to recognize every face like I used to at the beginning. This sentiment is far from unique, and I had several conversations during the con with people who echoed similar feelings. At one point, I found myself in a group of people who all predated me in the con-going circuit - a rarity as more and more time goes on. We talked about the growth of cons, my first one. Though I'd spent a lot of the day feeling listless without realizing why, I found myself feeling comforted by the company, and realizing I had been lonely.

It's not at all a bad thing, and I'm genuinely happy that more and more people are finding community at these events - god knows I did. It's an adjustment is all, an ever-shifting growth of my own. It's plain to see from my blog activity over the years that I withdrew from talking as often. Not good, not bad, but also for good, and for bad. It's probably good that I don't reveal as much about myself at the drop of a hat. It's probably bad that I'm more avoidant now than I'd like to be. I'd remarked to a friend a while back that I didn't miss the old MMO that we met each other on and spent our days playing, but that I missed the period of time in my life that it defined. Similarly, I think I was going through a huge shift in life and perspective at the time I was first finding my feet at these events, these gatherings of people that taught me that it was worth it to seek my own happiness, that *I* was worth it. I know this inherently now, but it was much more of an impact back then for obvious reasons. I suppose it's like the honeymoon period of a relationship vs. settling into its stability. I suppose you could say I'm in a long-term relationship with myself! And it's some of the healthiest it's ever been. And now that I'm doing better and more stable these days, I should try to push myself to be out there more often.

Every time someone tells me that I've grown so much, I can't help but tear up and cry. (I'm doing it now as I type this.) And wouldn't you believe it, that happened to me like FOUR TIMES during Charmed!! Come on y'all!! What the hell. There's nothing that solves feeling stagnated in life like hearing that from someone else. I resolved myself at the beginning of this post not to feel like I had to document every interaction and tag every person, but it's difficult to fight the urge to yell it from the rooftops, how each interaction genuinely touched me, how they were the highlights of my con. How I miss them again, and how I can't wait to see them again. It couldn't come soon enough. Thank you to those who have watched my journey and always encouraged me. (I feel like I say this often, but, please know that I mean it every time. Except this time like triple it. That's how much it means to me.)

Charmed changed my life. I will say it to my dying breath and I will always be forever grateful for it. I learned people could be happy. I learned I could be happy. The connections I made at the first Charmed and subsequent years have changed my life beyond what a 2015 version of me could ever imagine. Tangibly, too -- beyond just a shift in perspective and mentality and wanting better for myself, I wouldn't have been able to move out without the chain of events that started at this first con. So- thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.

I challenge myself not to document every interaction because in the past, that was how I had to live. Every post was proof I had experienced hardship (and lived). Every con meant a new lease on life and I had to memorize every single one and struggle to do hours long voice recordings about each day of the event to remember as much as I could because, that was all I could bring back. And I don't need to anymore - not because I don't want to remember, but because I'm in a better place now. These aren't the desperate emergency infusions of care I didn't know I could have; now, they are cherished moments with friends old and new, a drop in the bucket of happy memories. And part of life is to forget and talk about old stories and remember them again with good company.

Until the next one, and the one after that, and the many more after that.

-- Ari