#I just need to share with you guys scenes that genuinely made me laugh in some way. I'm almost embarrassed to admit some of these lmao 😭

[spikes-got-anger-issues]

Lab Rats moments that amuse me to some degree:

The siblings' slow turn + The Adam clone crawling out from behind the counter and eating something off the ground

[hoshifighting]

It appeared on my twitter, that tiktok of the 95 line and hoshi and I swear I can't get out of my mind the way Hoshi mouthed "fuck like a p*rnstar". I feel dizzy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

this video rents free in my mind, with that...

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon)

pornstar!hoshi who’s built a reputation as the guy who’s charming AND talented. he’s fully committed to—not just for the cameras, but because he’s having the time of his life.

pornstar!hoshi who’s playful but knows how to be professional on set. he cracks jokes while the lighting gets adjusted, his smile disarming everyone around him. “does this angle make my abs look good, or should I flex a little more?” he teases, winking at the camera crew. but the second they call action, he’s on. his expressions, his movements—it’s all so natural that you can’t help but admire him, even when you’re the one underneath him.

pornstar!hoshi who’s supposed to be acting, but the moment he’s buried inside you, all of that goes out the window. the cameras are rolling, the director is calling soft cues, but he doesn’t hear any of it. all he can focus on is you. the way your back arches, the way your lips part on a gasp that sounds so real it makes his head spin. he’s moving, sure, but it’s not for the cameras—he NEEDS to see you cumming for real.

pornstar!hoshi who treats his co-stars with the utmost respect, always checking in between takes. “you good?” he’d whisper in your ear, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he made sure you were comfortable. “need water? a break?”

pornstar!hoshi who has this uncanny ability to make everything look so effortless. the way he moves on camera, the way he adjusts to your rhythm, the way he looks at you as if no one else is even there—even though there are six people holding boom mics and lights around you.

“fuck, y/n,” he groans during a particularly heated scene, his voice low and rough enough to make you moan louder. it’s not just for show—it’s genuine.

pornstar!hoshi who’s known for his hips—not just how he moves them, but how he controls them. he’ll start slow, teasing, just to make his partner wetter, and then speed up in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders, your mind going blank. “there it is,” he’d murmur, only you could hear it. “does it feels good huh? such a perfect pussy.”

pornstar!hoshi who isn’t afraid to improvise, pulling off moves that make directors and crew stop and whisper, “how the fuck does he do that?” he’s the guy who can make a simple grind look like art and who knows exactly how to make you arch, moan, forget that youre supposed to be acting—both on and off-camera.

pornstar!hoshi behind the scenes is somehow even more dangerous. why? he’s soft, attentive, and domestic in a way that takes you by surprise. he’ll sit beside you during breaks, sharing snacks and laughing about how awkward some angles feel.

“did you see how they wanted me to hold you earlier?” he says, mock pouting as he mimics an exaggerated pose. “i looked like a pretzel.”

“You always look like a pretzel,” you tease, stealing one of his chips.

when the other take starts, no difference, real fuck to real eyes. the makeup artist is standing off to the side, brush frozen in her hand, glances at the lighting tech, watching hoshi fully sweat, who’s wide-eyed and whispering, “uh… is this still part of the scene?”

it’s not, and everyone knows it. hoshi’s thrusts is too personal, the way his fingers circle your clit with too much enthusiasm, care even, like he’s memorized every little thing that makes you squeak or roll your hips harder against him. the room is quiet except for the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking into you and the soft, desperate noises spilling from your lips.

pornstar!hoshi who’s dizzy from the sight of you. your face is flushed, your chest rising and falling with every poor breath, and the way you gasp his name—so full of need—has him gone.

“come on, baby,” he murmurs urgently, his fingers speeding up on your clit as his cock angles just right, brushing that spot inside you that makes you roll your eyes. “you gonna cum for me? huh? let me feel it. let everyone fucking see it.”

your hand shoots out, grasping his wrist as you sob, “hoshi, I—fuck, I can’t—” but the words die on your lips, replaced by a moan so loud and needy that his hips stutter. he leans down, his forehead pressing against yours, his forehead and hair starting to get wet.

“you can,” he whispers, his voice breaking like he’s barely holding himself together. “you’re gonna. i need you to. please, y/n.” his body working overtime to bring you just to see you cumming because he needs to see it, needs to feel it.

“look at me,” he says, his voice cracking as his free hand tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “look at me when you cum. let me see you.”

and when you finally do, your body tightening around him, his vision blurs. “that’s it, good girl, good girl—hm—fuckkk!” he groans.

the camera focuses tightly on where pornstar!hoshi is buried inside you, each thrust making you twitch as overstimulation sets in. you’re trembling now, gasping out broken noises that makes everyone confused its pleasure or exhaustion, your body convulsing around him. his hips falter for just a second before he hisses sharply, his head tipping back, a pained frown creasing his face.

he’s cumming, pumping into you like he’s helpless against the feeling of your wet cunt wrapping his tightly. even he looks surprised, glancing down at where you’re wrapped around him like he can’t believe it. when he finally slows, he pulls out just enough for the camera to capture the cum spilling from you, thick and unreal.

the director calls for a close-up, but hoshi’s already moving, his hand brushing against your thigh in a subtle, tender caress that’s out of sight from the cameras. his thumb rubs a slow circle into your skin, grounding you as the scene comes to a close.

“cut!” the director calls out. “that’s a wrap!”

hoshi doesn’t react immediately. he leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that catches you off guard. his tongue slides against yours, wet and warm, moving with a craving that feels almost private.

your eyes widen for a moment, but you give in, your fingers clutching weakly at his arm. when the director announces again that the shoot is officially over, hoshi pulls back, his lips brushing yours one last time before he closes his eyes. he plants a quick peck on your lips before shifting back to help you sit up.

as you adjust yourself on the edge of the bed, his assistant rushes over with a robe, but hoshi waves them off and takes it himself. instead of covering his own body, he wraps it around you, his hands careful not to disturb you too much.

“there,” he murmurs, tying the sash loosely around your waist. “better?”

you nod, sipping on the juice box that someone from the crew had handed you, looking strangely unbothered by the fact that you’d been riding him like your life depended on it just minutes ago.

hoshi, now half-dressed, stands nearby talking to his assistant, his hand absently twirling a strand of your hair. the motion is lazy, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

you can’t quite make out what they’re discussing—something about scheduling and timing—but when his assistant walks off, you glance up at him curiously.

“what was that about?” you ask, your voice hoarse from all the moaning earlier.

hoshi smirks, running a hand through his messy hair. “nothing big. just checking my schedule.” he pauses, leaning down a little closer to you. “i heard it’s your first time in town, though.”

“yeah?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” he says, his voice dropping slightly. “so… i was wondering if i could take you out. show you the town... like… on a date.”

you blink at him, caught off guard. “a date?”

“yeah,” he repeats, his grin softening into something almost shy. “off-camera. no scripts, no director yelling cut. just you and me.”

you sip your juice, feigning nonchalance even though your heart’s doing cartwheels. “i guess i could fit you into my schedule,” you tease.

hoshi chuckles, his hand brushing against your cheek before he straightens up. “good. because I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.”

[senascoop]

SENA’S FAVOURITES ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 TAG GAME

Ꮺ by @iovestuck and I might've added-edited some questions to my liking. all of these answers are genuine and not with the bias of some of them being my moots. also, extremely sorry if I didn't add you on here. most of them are nsfw so... minors please do not interact. (💌)

001. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE FANFICS?

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER — @i2sunric

i already yapped a lot when I first read her fic but this was personally really really cute to read and I loved heeseung’s and the reader’s bickering a lot.

THE PERFECT COPY — @florestalio

if this fanfic was a person I'd date them lol. this was something new and easily secured a seat in my favs.

STILL INTO YOU — @i2sunric

another one of casey’s work that I love a lot.

COULD I BE MORE OBVIOUS? — @rkvriki

this was written like a year ago and is still really good. especially the way it actually captured the “rich ceo husband” vibes.

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM — @heechwe

what were you thinking when you wrote that lexi? i couldn't find a single bad thing about the fic when i first read it and ngl it still remains as one of my fav.

FIXED COMFORT — @paarksunghoon

coming back to read this after a bad day and this never fails to bring a smile on my face even if I've already re-read this a lot of times.

002. FANFICS YOU'VE READ RECENTLY?

haven't read much lately but this has to be my list — heehoon jerking off together while thinking of the reader. part one, part two not sure if there's more parts, sharing = caring , and then this mind-blowing fic by casey, heavenly , i personally found this one cute, and then I've read this smtg about toxic situationship heeseung, then this one from mochiwonz which made me laugh, this from yuvany, reader is mean in this one but it's good, little lamb ... I have more but I can't exactly add all of them here—so if you're looking for fic recs, you should check @senascoooop

003. WHAT FANFICS DO YOU THINK SHOULD GET MORE RECOGNITION?

PUPPY ANTICS — @florestalio

I always re-read this because well... no reason-just the descriptions and the scene (though I hate angel for cutting it short...)

YOU’RE LOSING ME — @i2sunric

y'all are missing out on a lot of good stuff if you haven't read this angsty angst fic.

CORPSE BRIDE — @yuvany

start to end-just perfection.

BEWITCHED — @p4ranormaluv

to describe this fic in one word would be #wtfdidijustread? In a good way ofc. this deserves way more notes than it has right now.

TIL DEATH DO US PART — sena

TIED UP IN YOU — sena

self promo lol but I actually like these two of my works and they might as well be my best ones till now.

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS — @flwrstqr

a really fun fic to read, especially with the way both the reader and heeseung’s goal was definitely not to fall in love... but the two anyways did so.

VENOM — @gyuuberryy

the tension in this one and half way transformation of jay was just wowwww.

HORROR — @starryjake

the smut was rather really... cute alongside the ending...

666 — @simpjaes

a big fan of dark fics. and this was absolutely flawless!!

Not really a fanfic but rather sfw niki audio by @vanesycho part one, part two, part three, part four. I usually listen to these when I'm feeling down or can't fall asleep.

004. FAVOURITE AUTHORS?

all of my moots ofc lol but other than that ,

@i2sunric — all of her fics are hits and i personally really really really love them.

@florestalio — first found out about her through the fic “human or not” and I liked it from the go. and nevertheless-even if it's been a little time, I think we match the freak nonetheless.

@yuvany — she was in my favs the second i read corpse bride. then there's miss ugly duckling and her recent jay fic... absolutely amazing.

@p4ranormaluv — do I even need to have a reason for her to be here? she's really talented with the way she writes. Though I hope she's enjoying her break <3

@heechwe — every time you think someone can't get more sweet... lexi replies. even her fics are chefs kiss.

@gyuuberryy — she's my hype girl (ofc I'll add her on here and also bcz her fics are a big mwahh)

@mochiwonz — we aren't moots or anything but her works (smaus) randomly came in my for you page and i actually enjoyed a lot of them (so I'm adding her here too)

@paarksunghoon — every time a hard thought of hers comes into my for you-i know my evening's not gonna be so boring. y’all should read her fixed comfort and you plus me fic. 100% recommended.

@starryjake — another author who's also really good at making hard thoughts and fics :)

005. WHICH AUTHOR/READER DO YOU ADMIRE/ADORE THE MOST AND WHY?

all of my readers and moots ^^

but aside from them, i admire casey (i2sunric) & jazmine (p4ranormaluv) a lot and sort of started to write after reading their works <3

now I adore a lot of authors and readers but angel (florestalio) and ady (gyuuberry) have a special place in my heart. and I've actually gotten used to seeing some frequent readers which I absolutely notice and adore but the loud ones so far would be @zyvlxqht @flowerwinds (thank you so much for showing nothing other than love to me and my works) 🫶🏻💗

NOTE FROM SENA , i don't really read a lot which might explain why I don't have some more popular fics or authors in the recs. I'm also very sorry if I've forgotten someone (totally not intentional) this was really fun to make...thank you rain (iovestuck) you're another sweetie I found on blr :)

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 tagging anyone who wants to join

[izels-writing]

j. potter — tell me about the first time you saw me!

Pairing: james potter x fem!reader

Summary: you ask james to recall what it was like when you first met. and when you first had a conversation.

Warnings: a bit rushed bc i had the idea and couldn’t stop writing, not edited, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, TIME JUMPING (whenever the italics start the scene, it’s present time), james being an angel boy, FLUFFFFF

(a/n: currently still writing pt 2 to my remus one, so enjoy this one for now :P)

tell me about the first time

you saw me.

"what?" james asked, looking up at you from across the bed. he stopped writing with his quill and gave an you an amused look. truthfully, dating james was rather strange. the fact that you were together in the first place was a shock to many.

you smiled softly. "you heard me..."

"why...—why does that matter?" he chuckled, looking rather nervous and sheepish.

"it doesn't," you shrugged. "just curious i suppose,"

james chuckled and fixed his glasses, looking at you with that adoring gaze you loved to see. you were sure if you could see yourself, you'd have that same look on your face.

"i mean, you and i ran in such different crowds, and we weren't exactly in the same league," you added.

"i know, you were so far out of my league it was scary to talk to you," james sighed, looking rather genuine. you blinked at him, wondering if he was joking.

"are you yanking my wand?" you laughed.

he looked completely serious.

"james, you were out of my league!"

james laughed. "in what world?!"

——

the party in the common room was in full swing, drinks being poured and music louder than anything else in the room. you watched from the sidelines, taking small sips of the firewhiskey in your hand��laughing whenever you made eye contact with your best friend, who was dancing with some guy.

parties were normally semi-enjoyable but today you weren't feeling that up to it. nonetheless, like the good friend you were—you still went with your best friend, hoping everyone else's moods would be contagious.

the game had been fun, with slytherin and gryffindor competing against each other—and gryffindor prevailing as usual. you, unlike your best friend, weren't much of a quidditch fan or any sport for that matter. you much preferred a quiet night in at the library over a party, not that you'd ever voice it aloud.

noticing you'd finished your cup, after a few more sips, you ambled over to the drink table as you knew you'd need just a bit more to actually enjoy the party—which coincidentally was near some of your other friends by the couch and loveseats.

"hey, could you hand me that when you're done?" you asked the tall, raven-headed boy who held the bottle of half drunken firewhiskey. he turned to look at you, and unbeknownst to you, his eyes widened a bit.

his whole world paused. for a moment, as cliche as it sounded, it felt like you and him were the only people in the world. you were beautiful and something about you was comforting in a way he didn't understand. but he wanted to. he wanted to understand everything about you, every intricate detail and quirk you wanted to share with him.

"uh, sure, i don't need it," he said softly, handing the bottle to you. you smiled, not noticing the way his eyes softened at you smile, and took the bottle—pouring some into your cup.

"i don't think i've seen you around before, what's your name?" the tall boy asked, turning his full attention to you.

"hm? oh, y/n l/n," you smiled. "what's your name?"

"uh...james, james potter," he replied. and if you knew him any better, you'd have definitely known he was being shy.

"oh right! you helped win the game, it's nice to meet you," you smiled. you stuck out your hand and he fumbled to put his cup in his other hand, so he could take your hand. you smiled in amusement, unsure why he was so uncoordinated for a quidditch player.

"well, i'll see you around," you smiled kindly before wandering off.

——

"hello," a quiet voice said. you looked up, your eyes meeting the hazel eyes you'd met once before.

"james, hi," you smiled.

"hello," he smiled again. "uhm, you come here often?"

you looked down at your sprawled out textbooks and parchment and ink, wondering if he was joking. you looked up again and nodded.

"just when i need to study or read really," you replied with a smile.

"oh, right," he chuckled nervously. "this is a library, duh..."

"are you doing some studying too?" you asked, noticing his bag on his shoulder.

his eyes widened and he looked around for a second before nodding. "uh, yeah! yeah, i am. just trying to find some textbooks for my DADA essay," he replied as smoothly as possible.

"oh! i have some," you commented.

he sort of stared, not in a creepy way, but an awkward way. you smiled softly.

"did you want to join me? we can share the textbooks," you suggested.

"oh, yeah. yeah i'd love to," james replied with a nervous smile. he pulled out the chair across from you and sat in it, struggling not to spare glances at you as he pulled out his materials.

from afar, sirius and peter watched the two of you. both had begun to feel secondhand embarrassment for their friend, as he seemed to lose his quick wit around you—becoming a shell of a person. a shell of a person who was head over heels for you.

"this is painful, pads—oh, he just dropped his quill," peter sighed, smacking his head on the side of the bookshelf in defeat,

"hey, it'll be fine. he'll win her over, if he can just figure out how to talk to her..." sirius mumbled, starting to doubt his own words as he watched james scrambled for an ink well that you seemingly had asked to borrow.

"thanks, i forgot my spare one in my room, i suppose," you chuckled, taking the inkwell and placing it within dipping distance.

"no problem, you can use my inkwell whenever your heart desires," he chuckled, attempting a joke that he realized wasn't funny as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth.

"thanks..." you smiled, chuckling quietly to yourself.

what the hell is wrong with me? james thought to himself.

——

no one's ever had me...

not like you.

"i knew i'd win you over eventually though," james boasted.

you scoffed, knowing this to be untrue. "you couldn't even look at me without stuttering..."

"what're you guys talking about?" remus asked, as he and sirius took their seats beside you and james in the library. two seconds later, peter joined you four.

"what james thought when he first saw me, his first impression," you informed the three boys.

sirius barked a laugh, earning a warning from madam pince. "the day you agreed to go out with him, was the day we all finally knew peace,"

you smirked, watching as james flushed with embarrassment. "oh really?"

"uh, yeah! all he could talk about was you! how pretty you were, how smart you were, how funny you were, how good your hair smelled—" peter droned on and on.

"you smelled my hair?" you asked james teasingly.

"every chance he got," sirius teased. james flushed an even darker pink.

"to be fair, your hair does smell good," remus pointed out, trying to save james subtly.

"thank you! it's coconut scented," you remarked.

as the boys began their own conversations, you turned to james. he could hardly look at you.

"hey," you whispered.

he looked up at you with a shy smile.

"if it's any consolation—" you said.

"you make me really nervous too,"

he smiled at your words and stretched over the table, planting a quick kiss on your lips. before he could fully pull away, you kissed his cheek—before the two of you immersed yourself in the conversation with the other three.

bonus;

despite years and years of being together, you had always made james nervous. but now, more than ever, he could hardly contain his nerves. it was like they were jumping around his body with no way out.

��james, are you alright?” you asked, smiling that beautiful smile of yours. you knew james to be a slightly nervous person, he was just that type of person.

and when you smiled that smile, he felt the nerves settle. no matter how nerve wracking and scary this was, the smile you had reserved for him was more than enough of a reward.

so, as you turned to him on the bridge where you both had stopped on your stroll, studying him—he finally mustered the courage. he kneeled down on one knee, shakily opening the small velvet box in his hand.

“y/n l/n, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” he grinned.

[gyllenhaalstories]

COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Many weeks have passed since your relationship with Mike began. Every chance you got, every break from studying, you spent with the Schmidt siblings, especially on weekends. Today, in particular, the three of you spent the whole day together, which ended with Abby falling asleep in the middle of a board game she insisted on playing despite the late hour. In the process of cleaning everything up, you and Mike start asking each other some questions to get to know each other better. The situation escalated from there.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Mike can speak Spanish, translation to everything at the end (y’all, every time I watch that video on YouTube of Josh answering the web’s most searched question about him and he starts speaking in Spanish... 🥵) Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Table sex. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Part 1-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The weekend had arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from college lectures and a chance to spend time with Mike Schmidt and his younger sister, Abby. The three of you had spent the day immersed in simple pleasures: watching Abby's favorite movies, preparing meals together, and even an impromptu dance party in the living room, which left Abby giggling uncontrollably.

As night fell, Abby suggested playing a board game. It was a game designed for children, colorful and straightforward, but its appeal lay more in Abby's enthusiasm than in the gameplay itself.

Mike sat back on the couch, his eyes softening as he watched you and Abby playfully argue over the rules of the board game she insisted on playing. His feelings for you had grown quickly over the past few weeks, and he often found himself marveling at how easily you fit into his life. It was a feeling that both comforted and surprised him-this natural blending of your world with his.

Mike's gaze lingered on you, noticing how you engaged with Abb, your smile genuine and warm, It was moments like these that made him realize just how much you meant to him. The thought of spending nights like this more often, with you by his side, filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Abby seemed to relish the sight of you and Mike together, often teasing you both with exaggerated gestures of affection.

Whenever you leaned in to kiss Mike or wrap an arm around him, Abby would dramatically roil her eyes, feigning disgust in a way that only a precocious child could. "Ew, you guys are so gross" she'd declare, her face scrunched up, though the playful twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Mike enjoyed playing along with Abby's antics.

He would sometimes pause mid-kiss, turning to her with mock seriousness, "You're just jealous because he can’t resist my charm."

Abby would respond with an exaggerated gag, making you both laugh. "Ugh, please, spare me!" she'd cry, pretending to shield her eyes.

Abby's competitive spirit shone through as she took an early lead, her laughter infectious as she watched the two of you struggle to catch up.

Despite the game's child-like simplicity, you and Mike indulged her, enjoying the shared moments of joy and the occasional eye roll when she pulled off a particularly clever move.

Eventually, the day's excitement took its toll on Abby, and she gradually succumbed to sleep, leaning against Mike's side. Her soft snores were a testament to the fun filled day, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He gently shifted her into his arms, carefully carrying her to her bedroom. The sight of Mike's gentle care warmed your heart, showcasing a side of him that made you admire him even more.

Once Abby was safely tucked into bed, Mike returned to the living room, with a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed you, his lips brushing against yours with affectionate warmth.

"She's out like a light," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

With the game almost cleared away, you caught the hint of reluctance in his demeanor, as if he was fighting the urge to suggest calling it a night. He wanted to savor this rare moment of togetherness, not wanting to seem like the boring type who couldn't keep up.

"Hey," you started, your voice light as you gathered some puzzle pieces into a box, "how about we play a little game while we clean up?"

Mike looked at you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "A game? Haven't we had enough of those for one night?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of fatigue.

He had been running on the relentless schedule of work and caring for Abby, and the idea of simply wrapping you in his arms and falling asleep was incredibly appealing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued tidying up. "Not that kind of game. I was thinking more of a question game—just you and me. We ask each other questions to get to know each other better. Nothing too serious, just...fun."

Mike hesitated, his instinctive walls coming up. You could see the reluctance in his eyes. He wasn't one to open up easily, even to someone he was dating. The thought of revealing too much too soon probably made him uneasy. But he also didn't want to seem boring or unwilling to engage with you, especially after the perfect day you had spent together. He sighed softly, then gave a small nod, agreeing to your proposal.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but warm, "but you go first."

You grinned, pleased that he was willing to play along. You folded up a blanket that had been tossed over the couch.

He sat on the couch and leaned back, stretching his arms with a yawn before picking up some toys scattered there that Abby has hidden in the morning.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?"

Mike paused, thinking it over as he picked up the scattered game pieces from the floor. He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "I've never really thought about it. I guess.. maybe somewhere quiet. A place where Abby could be happy, where she could run around safely and just be a kid without any worries. Maybe a small town by the coast. She loves the water

You smiled at his answer, not surprised that even his hypothetical dreams were centered around Abby's happiness. "That sounds nice," you said softly, picturing the scene in your mind.

"My turn," Mike said, turning to you as he finished stacking the board games. "What about you? What's something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance to"

The question caught you off guard. You hadn't expected Mike to be so direct, but it was a good kind of surprise. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip across the country," you admitted. "Just pack up and drive, see where the road takes me. No plans, no schedules, just freedom"

Mike nodded, seeming to understand the appeal. "Your turn, champ," he said, getting comfortable on the couch while he handed you this bag where all of Abby’s toys were.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay alert with a tired smile.

Mike’s head was resting on one of his hands, his eyes half-closed in a relaxed state as he waited for your question.

To break the tension, or perhaps to prolong it, you quickly thought of another question to ask.

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Mike blinked, clearly surprised by the request. You had heard him mumbling to himself in Spanish once before, early one morning when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. You hadn't understood what he had said, but the sound of the language rolling off his tongue had been intoxicating. You had been craving to hear him speak in Spanish again ever since.

Mike raised an eyebrow at your request, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. A small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were already flushing with anticipation.

He studied you for a moment, clearly amused by your request. Without further hesitation, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke in fluid, flawless Spanish.

"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto," he said, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips

The way he said it, with such ease and confidence, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably hot about hearing him speak in a language you didn't fully understand, the foreign syllables carrying an air of mystery and allure.

"What... what did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike rubbed his eyes, clearly tired but still amused by your curiosity.

“It’s a secret,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll whisper it to you again...sometime.”

Grinning, you gave a nod and smoothly took the bag from his hands. With a swift motion, you began collecting the scattered toys and papers, turning the cleanup into a playful dance.

You could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he pondered a question to satisfy his curiosity. A slow smile crept across his face, transforming into a sly grin. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Before we got together, what’s one dirty thought you had about me?”

A rush of heat surged to your cheeks, and you instinctively placed your head on the table, shoulders shaking with a mix of laughter and embarrassment while you held tightly the bag. "Why did I invent these rules?" you groaned, half in regret and half in amusement.

Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. His eyes went to esaminate the rest of the room, satisfied in seeing that there was almost nothing left. "Come on, you can't back out now. Rules are rules."

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head, your cheeks still burning. "Fine," you said, your voice tinged with shyness. "There was this one time... you were fixing something around the house in a tank top. I don’t really remember what you were fixing, I wasn’t paying attention to that, you know? I was just watching you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about— hmph..." You paused, your voice trailing off as you hesitated.

Mike leaned in, clearly eager to hear more. "Thinking what?" he prompted, his tone encouraging.

You laughed nervously, finally relenting. "i kept making scenarios in my head of you pulling me close and kissing me. And more..."

The tension between you was almost palpable, a charged current that seemed to pulse through the room.

“For the record, I knew you were staring." He whispered softly at you before turning his back at you to pick up some shredded paper from the ground

You smiled softly at him, happy to know that the attraction you felt for him was mutual.

This game you started will end soon.

After moving around to pick up toys and scattered pieces of paper, you started to feel the heat creeping up your neck. You had been so focused on the game and the conversation that you hadn't noticed how warm it had gotten. Tentatively, and feeling a little self-conscious, you decided to take off your shirt to cool down.

You hesitated for a moment before you slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. You felt a little shy, your skin tingling with a mix of nerves and excitement as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

When you finally looked up, you saw Mike staring at you in awe, his gaze fixed on your chest. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you suddenly felt very self-aware.

He caught your eye and winked, a gesture that sent your heart racing. In a fit of playful defiance, you grabbed your shirt and threw it at him, your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Mike raised an arm to shield himself from the attack, laughing quietly as the shirt hit him squarely in the chest. His grin widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "Hey, no fair! Can't blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He protested, but the grin on his face told you he was anything but annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling both shy and bold at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, the room was clean, and there was nothing left to distract you from the simmering tension between you. You turned to Mike, a sudden idea popping into your mind-a bold request that you weren't sure you had the courage to voice, but the thought of his hands on you was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," you began, your voice a little hesitant, "how about a reward for all that cleaning?"

Mike looked at you, intrigued. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" he asked as he leaned in slightly.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to ask. "A massage," you finally said, your voice almost a whisper. "On my back. I could use one after all that moving around."

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice low and velvety. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he asked, "Where would it be more comfortable for you?"

Without overthinking it, you moved closer to him and, in a swift motion, settled yourself onto his lap, your back facing him. He let out a surprised huff, followed by a low grunt as he adjusted to your weight.

"Easy there," he murmured, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your hips. "You're getting a little too good at this teasing thing."

"Everything okay, old man?" you teased, laughter bubbling up inside you.

"You're lucky I like you," he shot back, grinning as his hands settled on your back.

Settling into Mike's lap, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a warmth that spread from your cheeks down to your toes.

You could sense Mike adjusting slightly, finding the right balance to support you as his hands settled onto your shoulders. The touch was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he was reacquainting himself with every curve and line of your back. His fingers pressed into the muscles at the base of your neck, drawing out a sigh from you that was part relief, part pleasure.

"You've got a lot of tension here," Mike murmured, his voice low and intimate, the kind of tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I blame you for that," you teased, your own voice barely above a whisper.

His hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the knots and tightness with a care that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each stroke of his fingers felt deliberate, a careful balance between pressure and gentleness that sent warmth spreading through your body. You couldn't help but lean back slightly, closer against him, feeling the heat of his body seep into yours.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Very," you replied, the word coming out more like a contented sigh. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, the gesture both an invitation and an acknowledgment of trust.

His hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the contours of your spine with a touch that was both firm and featherlight. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips.

Mike's fingers splayed across your lower back, his thumbs working in tandem to soothe the tension from the long day. You could feel the strength in his hands, the surety of his touch, and it made you acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

"You're really good at this," you murmured, the words slipping out between soft sighs of pleasure.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. "I used to give Abby back rubs when she couldn't sleep.” he replied, his voice a deep rumble that resonated in your chest.

You couldn't help but shift slightly, pressing back against him, the motion eliciting a low hum of approval from him that sent your heart racing.

"You're making this very difficult for me to concentrate."

You smiled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "Who said I wanted you to concentrate?"

He laughed softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket, comforting and familiar.

You could feel your heart beating a little faster, your breath coming a little shorter, as if every cell in your body was attuned to the anticipation building between you.

Mike shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement brought you even closer together, your bodies aligning in a way that was both natural and exhilarating.

You felt a surge of courage that prompted you to turn slightly, shifting so that you could see his face more clearly.

Mike met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you.

His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me.”

His mouth found its way to your neck, pressing kisses.

"Mike...”. you whispered, your voice a breathy plea, filled with a need that you couldn't quite put into words. "Speak to me... in Spanish... please."

The request hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you wondered if he would oblige. But then, his lips were at your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth in a rich, rolling cadence that made your heart skip a beat.

"Eres mi chico bueno," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a intensity that made your knees weak. "Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío."

You didn't need to understand every word to know what he was saying, the intent was clear in the way his voice caressed each syllable, his tone heavy with adoration.

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath.

But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"Me vuelves loco," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto."

"Mi chico perfecto," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in the sensation, your body pressing against his in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

"Eres mío," he murmured, his words a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. "Solo mío."

The declaration sent a thrill of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound quickly muffled by his kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, to erase the space that dared to separate you.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion.

Mike shifted, rising from the chair with you in his arms and he carried you to the table with a grace that left you breathless.

The cool surface met your skin as he bent you over the table, a contrast that heightened the warmth of his body pressing against you. His hands roamed with a newfound urgency.

His lips followed the path his hands had charted, pressing kisses that were both gentle and insistent.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, a sound of pure pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Mike responded with a deep, resonant grunt, a primal sound that spoke of his own rising desire.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a playful reprimand. But his own breath was ragged.

Mike's hands found yours, interlocking your fingers as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back in a gesture that spoke of unity and devotion. His breath was warm against your ear, his whispered words a balm that soothed and ignited in equal measure.

His hand finds the front of your sweats, breaking your train of thought, and he smiles when you gasp softly.

"You're hard."

"Have been for a while," is all you say, face hot.

He just nods before kissing you again, hand rubbing against your bulge with his other one still on your rear.

His hands make haste with the strings of your sweatpants, loosening it just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It’s rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Mike was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more.

He strokes you and you curl into him. It’s as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you’d ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You’ve already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment.

Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You buckle his belt and take him out of his jeans and boxers and revel at the sight.

He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así."

You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible.

"I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

Mike kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager.

"Mike," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Your hands clenched into fists on the cold table.

His tongue finally - thankfully - pushes past the precipice, your hips rising at the feeling. Already, your dick twitches in ecstasy, wanting more, wanting release. You can feel the way his facial hair curls upwards against you.

He spits once at your hole as he pulls away, his chin slick from his preparations. Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured.

He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod with furrowed brows and god, when he pushes the tip slowly past your rim, you swear you could die.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you.

You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness. The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He strokes you at a pace mimicking his own movements, and your brain begins to steam, overcome with heat and desire.

"Shit," you grit, finally opening your eyes.

Your hips buck upward and his thumb shifts against your head as a result, sending you over the edge, spilling over his hand and onto your stomach.

Mike groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, pace quickening as he longs to join you in your ecstasy before thrusting a final time, moaning low as he spills.

Warmth spreads over you as he keeps himself slotted within. His hand rests on your stomach.

"You good?" He asks with a soft and reassuring cadence, leaning over to kiss your collarbone as his hands rub up and down your sides.

You nod, satisfied. He chuckles softly at your expression, taking it in affectionately.

As you turned to face him, you saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and your heart softened. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his gaze focused on you.

"Mike," you whispered, reaching up to gently caress his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "You look like you're about to pass out."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let out a deep, tired sigh. "I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for the man before you. "Let’s get cleaned up real quickly," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "You're too good to me," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your smile widening as you helped him to his feet. "No, Mike. We're good for each other."

Later on, as you curled up together in bed, Mike's arms wrapped securely around you, his breath warm against your neck, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with love and trust as foundation.

As Mike drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed against yours, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, feeling utterly content.

Note: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who read the first part of this. Your support and kind words mean the world to me and have truly inspired me to continue writing.

I hope you enjoy this second part just as much as the first. Your feedback and encouragement are incredibly motivating, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this continuation of the story.

Thank you once again for all the love and support!

Translation for all the words in Spanish (done with the help of my brother so blame him for any errors)

-"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto"= "You are a beautiful and perfect boy"

-"Eres mi chico bueno" = "You're my good boy"

-"Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío." = "My precious, the most beautiful I've ever seen. You're mine."

-"Me vuelves loco" = "You drive me crazy"

-"No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto." = "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect."

-"Mi chico perfecto" = "My perfect boy"

-"Eres mío" = "You're mine"

-"Solo mío" = "Only mine"

-"Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así." = “You're so fucking handsome like that."

[y-vening]

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader word count: 15k genre: no smut, heavy angst, fluff towards the end warnings: it’s dark, abuse, stalking, toxic relationship, manipulation, the reader is mentally unstable, plot twists, heeseung has a weak spot for the reader, the reader's name is iseul, violence, and overall it’s just dark, so read at your own discretion. synopsis: a girl who's out of her mind and heeseung, who's in love and down bad for her but needs help. tyla's notes: in the beginning, i was going to add smut but decided not to because i wanted this to have HEAVY angst. if you guys want a part two because heeseung does do something unexpected, i can make one; just let me know, but enjoy and soon I'll be doing a permanent tag list!

Lee Heeseung and Iseul met through their mutual close friend, Jungwon, during a small gathering at Jungwon’s apartment. Iseul, who had just moved to the city, caught Heeseung’s attention immediately with her striking confidence and wit. 

Iseul was not the type to blend into the background; her fiery personality demanded attention, and she seemed to have some sort of mysterious allure that left people curious yet cautious to approach. Though she often kept people at arm’s length, Heeseung’s kind and genuine nature intrigued her.

The connection between them sparked instantly, and Jungwon couldn’t help but play matchmaker, knowing that Heeseung’s gentleness just might be what Iseul needed to soften her edges.

Heeseung was the kind of man women often gravitated toward. His soft-spoken charm and genuine warmth made him irresistible, but they also made him a great target for manipulation. Heeseung had a history of giving too much and asking too little in return, often leaving him burned by those who saw his kindness as weakness.

Despite his past experiences, Heeseung maintained his faith in people. When he met Iseul, her possessiveness initially felt comforting—a stark contrast to the way others had treated him. But as their relationship deepened into something more than just friends and into something real, Heeseung realized that her intensity could be overwhelming, especially when she felt threatened.

Iseul’s possessiveness stemmed from a deep-seated fear of losing the people she cared about. She’d had her own share of heartbreaks, and when she found someone as pure-hearted as Heeseung, she clung tightly. Her jealousy often caused scenes, especially when other women approached him. 

At a party one evening, Iseul spotted a woman laughing a little too closely with Heeseung. Without hesitation, she stormed across the room, her voice sharp as she confronted the woman. 

The room fell silent as Iseul’s words sliced through the air, and though Heeseung tried to diffuse the situation, the tension lingered. “I’m not going to let anyone take you from me,” Iseul whispered to him afterward, her eyes filled with both fear and assurance in an odd way. 

Heeseung, though visibly uncomfortable with Iseul’s outbursts, couldn’t bring himself to push her away. He saw the vulnerability beneath her sharp exterior and felt a sense of responsibility to protect her, even from herself. 

One night, as they sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, Heeseung gently confronted Iseul about her behavior. “You don’t have to fight for me like that,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “I’m already yours.” For a moment, Iseul’s defenses crumbled, and she admitted her insecurities. “I just... I can’t love you, Heeseung,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. Heeseung’s heart ached as he pulled her into a comforting embrace, promising her he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Despite their passionate connection, their relationship often felt like a tug-of-war. Iseul’s fiery love burned brightly but could instantly spiral into destructive jealousy. Heeseung was struggling to balance his desire to be with her and his own personal need for stability. Their interactions were often intense and filled with tender moments and heated arguments. 

Iseul was in love with Heeseung even if they hadn’t been together for long. She quickly got attached to him and she couldn’t let him go so easily either. She saw him as a person but also as someone who was her property and she couldn’t let anyone take what she owned away from her. 

Heeseung worked as an office worker and his company was having a gathering where the workers could come together and bring along their partners but Heeseung’s biggest mistake was letting Iseul come with.

A female coworker, unaware of Iseul’s reputation as the jealous girlfriend, playfully touched Heeseung’s arm as she laughed at one of his jokes. Iseul’s blood boiled instantly. She could feel herself itching to hurt the woman, wanting to claw her black nails into the female’s skin deep enough to make her bleed and leave marks in her flawless skin forever.

Iseul had thoughts like this a lot. Heeseung made her want to hurt people and she knew it wasn’t healthy but she didn’t care. She had to protect him from women who wanted to take advantage of him and use him for their own personal gain.

Iseul, who was standing a few feet away from them, let her feet make their way over to the pair. Her jaw tightened as she got closer, her eyes darkening, looking cold and distant. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” she spat at the women, her voice dripping with venom. The coworker stammered, confused, but Iseul could care less.

“Get your filthy hands off what’s mine.” She grabbed Heeseung’s wrist and yanked him outside before he could protest. 

Heeseung was embarrassed. He knew bringing Iseul was a bad idea from the start but he knew she’d have something to say if he didn’t bring her. He also knew that his coworkers would be talking about this until God knows when. Talking about how he lets his girlfriend boss him around like he’s the woman in the relationship or how she’s jealous, probably due to insecurity.

Heeseung didn’t have anything to say to Iseul. He honestly didn’t have any words, just letting her call a cab for them and drive them to the apartment they shared together, staying quiet the entire ride home. 

As they entered inside the apartment, the second the door closed, Iseul pinned him against it, her voice low and menacing. “You’re mine, Heeseung. I hate having to remind you.” She pulled him into a bruising kiss. Heeseung didn’t fight back whatsoever. He kissed her back because even though he was embarrassed and terrified, he was also thrilled in a sick way.  

Oh, and it didn’t stop there. 

Iseul’s jealousy reached a fever pitch at a nightclub. Heeseung, as usual, had attracted attention just by being his kind and approachable self but also by being a good-looking guy. A woman at the bar kept making excuses to talk to him, even brushing her hand against his. Iseul, watching from a distance, snapped. She stormed over, grabbing the woman’s drink from her hand and throwing it in her face. “He’s not available.” Security had to intervene but Iseul didn’t care even as she and Heeseung were practically thrown out of the club.

And as usual, they went home, the car ride silent and when they’d get inside of their apartment, the tension between them erupted into a fiery encounter. Her dominance in the bedroom mirrored her control over their relationship. She demanded everything from Heeseung—his love, loyalty, and complete surrender. And Heeseung, despite knowing how destructive she was, gave in willingly every time. 

Weeks later, after the nightclub situation, Heeseung was invited to a friend’s wedding and of course, he brought Iseul along. Heeseung had already talked with her prior to this event about controlling herself even if it was hard but no, the opposite of controlling herself happened. 

A bridesmaid had been openly flirting with Heeseung throughout the night, and Iseul was visibly seething. When the woman leaned in too close during a group photo, Iseul snapped. She yanked Heeseung away, her voice icy as she addressed the bridesmaid. “I don’t care if this is your best friend’s wedding. Touch him again, and you’ll regret it.” The situation quickly escalated when Iseul, the woman in front of everyone, left the entire wedding party stunned. 

Heeseung tried to calm her down, but Iseul’s rage was unstoppable. “Do you enjoy this? Watching them throw themselves at you? Do you like hurting me?” she screamed at him later that night, tears streaming down her face. This was their daily cycle. 

She would get mad, cause a scene, get kicked out or leave, get a cab, and have a silent car ride, arrive home, and have sex, or Heeseung would try to explain how he felt about the situation even though Iseul would sometimes get pissed and turn his words against him. This was their cycle, a never-ending one.

Despite her unhinged behavior, Heeseung loved her, and he didn’t know how many times he had to say it. He loved Iseul and he knew she did everything out of care for him. He was infatuated, addicted to the intensity of her love. Iseul had a way of making him feel wanted like no one else ever had, even if it came at a cost. 

After each explosive fight, she would pull him close, her touch both possessive and tender. “You belong to me,” she’d whisper, her lips brushing against his neck. And in those moments, Heeseung couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but with her.

But as time went on, Iseul’s control over their relationship became suffocating. She monitored his phone, questioned his every move, and isolated him from his friends. Jungwon even tried to intervene once Heeseung started telling him these things, even having to witness it for himself along with his other friends. 

Let’s take it back three weeks ago.

The air was light and jovial as Heeseung sat around the table with closest friends—Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Jay, Sunoo, and Niki–reminiscing about old memories. 

The group had gathered at a cozy cafe for a rare chance to catch up, and everyone was high in spirits. Joining them was Minji, Heeseung’s childhood friend, whose bubbly personality and playful demeanor had everyone smiling (except Iseul). She had been reminiscing about their younger days, leaning close to Heeseung as she laughed about their old antics. 

“You remember how I used to always beat you at soccer, Heeseung?” Minji teased, nudging his arm playfully. Her eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “And how you used to blush whenever I called you cute? I swear, you had the biggest crush on me back then!” she added, giggling.

Iseul, seated beside Heeseung, had been unusually quiet during the exchange, her sharp dark brown eyes narrowing as she watched Minji’s hand linger a little too long on his arm. The tension in her posture was palpable, but no one addressed it—until she finally broke her silence. 

“Wow, Minji,” Iseul said, her tone sarcastic. “It’s so cute how you’re stuck in the past. But unfortunately. Heeseung’s moved on. You should too.” The table fell silent as all eyes turned to her. Heeseung’s face turned pale, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Minji blinked, startled. “I–I didn’t mean anything by it,” she stammered, glancing at Heeseung for reassurance, help even. 

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.” Iseul replied, her smile as sharp as a knife. “But just so we’re clear, Heeseung doesn’t need to be reminded of some childish crush. He has me now. And trust me, I give him everything he needs.” Her hand moved to Heeseung’s thigh under the table, gripping it possessively.

Jungwon, sensing the growing tension, stepped in. “Iseul, come on, she’s just joking around. Minji and Heeseung are old friends–there’s no harm in reminiscing.” 

Iseul’s gaze snapped at Jungwon, her expression darkening. “Old friends? Is that what you call flirting these days?” she shot back. “If you’re so concerned about my boyfriend, maybe you should focus on being better friends instead of letting random women paw at him.”

Jake leaned forward trying to defuse the situation. “Iseul, that’s not fair. Minji didn’t mean anything by it. She’s always been like this with Heeseung–it’s harmless.”

“Harmless?” Iseul’s laugh was bitter. “You don’t think I see the way she looks at him? The way she touches him? If you all think this okay, then maybe you’re the problem.”

As her voice grew sharper, Heeseung finally spoke, his voice weak. “Iseul, please, it’s not–”

“Shut up, Heeseung,” Iseul interrupted, her words silencing him instantly. She turned her piercing gaze back to Minji. “And you,” she started, “If you ever touch him again, I promise next time it won’t be pretty.”

The table was frozen in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, but Jay nudged him, shaking his head. It was clear no one knew how to handle Iseul’s outburst. 

After a moment, Iseul stood, yanking Heeseung’s arm and yanking him up from his seat. “We’re leaving,” she announced coldly, not even sparing the other a glance as she dragged Heeseung out of the cafe.

Once they were gone, the remaining friends exchanged worried looks. “This isn’t normal,” Niki said quietly, his voice filled with concern. “She’s… controlling him.:

Jungwon sighed, rubbing his temples. “I know. But what can we do? Heeseung won’t listen. He’s completely under her thumb.”

“She’s dangerous,” Sunoo murmured, his voice trembling slightly, shaken up from the situation. “We need to find a way to help him before it’s too late.”

Back in Iseul and Heeseung’s car, she gripped onto the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white, as she drove in tense silence. Heeseung sat in the passenger seat, his head bowed in defeat. “Why do you let them disrespect me like that?” she finally asked, her voice cold.

“They’re my friends, Iseul,” he said softly. 

“No,” she snapped, her eyes flashing as she glanced at him. “They’re just people trying to take you away from me. You belong to me, Heeseung. Not them, me.”

And Heeseung, despite everything, could only nod, too tangled in her web of possessive love to fight back.

The rest of the drive back to their apartment was suffocatingly silent. Heeseung sat motionless in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks. Iseul’s jaw was clenched, her hands still gripping the steering wheel tightly as though she were fighting to keep control—not just of the car, but of the entire situation. 

When they finally arrived home, Iseul slammed the door shut behind them and threw her keys onto the counter, spinning around to face Heeseung. Her expression was unreadable, a dangerous mix of fury and desperation. “Do you even understand what you put me through back there?” 

Heeseung, already exhausted from the evening, ran a hand through his black hair and sighed. “I didn’t do anything, Iseul. Minji is just a friend. You overreacted, and now everyone thinks–”

“Thinks what?” Iseul interrupted, her voice rising. She stepped closer to him, her eyes wild. “That I’m the crazy girlfriend? That I’m unreasonable for protecting what’s mine? Don’t you dare try to make me feel like I’m the villain here, Heeseung.”

“You are being unreasonable!” Heeseung snapped back, surprisingly even himself.  “Minji wasn’t doing anything wrong. She’s been my friend for years, and you humiliated her—and me—in front of everyone!”

For a moment, the room was silent. Iseul’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at him, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. Then she laughed—a low, bitter sound that sent a shiver down Heeseung’s spine. 

“You think this is about her?” she said, her voice trembling. “This is about you. You let her touch you. You let her remind you of some stupid crush, like I don’t even exist. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Iseul…” Heeseung started, his voice softening, but she cut him off again. 

“No,” she said, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him down to her level. “You don’t get to make any excuses. You’re mine, Heeseung. Mine. And if I have to keep reminding you of that, then I will.”

Her lips crashed against his in a fierce, possessive kiss, leaving no room for hesitation. Heeseung froze, torn between resisting and giving in. His body betrayed him, responding to her intensity even as his mind screamed at him to pull away.

The kiss deepened, and Iseul’s grip on him tightened, her dominance overwhelming. She pushed him against the wall, her nails digging into his arms. “Say it,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Say you’re mine.” 

Heeseung’s heart pounded in his chest. “I’m yours,” he murmured, the words escaping before he could stop them.

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “Good,” she said, her voice softer but not less commanding. When they finally pulled apart, Heeseung slumped against the wall, his head spinning. Iseul stepped back, her expression calm now, almost tender. “I only do this because I love you,” she said quietly, brushing a hand through his hair. “You know that, right?”

Heeseung nodded weakly, unable to meet her gaze. “Yeah. I know.”

But as she walked away, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room, a deep pit of unease settled in his chest. His friends worried faces flashed in his mind, and for the first time, he wondered if they were right.

He was losing himself to her. And the worst part was, he didn’t know if he could ever walk away.

He moved over to the couch, throwing himself on it with his head in his hands, constantly replaying the scene at the cafe and the confrontation in his mind. His friends’ concerned expressions lingered in his thoughts, their unspoken pleas for him to see the truth. But every time he tried to imagine leaving Iseul, his heart twisted painfully. 

In the other room, Iseul sat on the edge of their bed, staring blankly at the floor. Her anger had dissipated, replaced by a gnawing sense of emptiness. She told herself she had done what was necessary to protect their relationship. Yet a small, nagging voice whispered that she was pushing too hard, that she was losing Heeseung even as she clung to him tighter. But instead of addressing her insecurities deeply and openly, she steeled herself, convincing herself that her actions were justified. 

Heeseung’s phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen; it was a message from Jungwon.

Jungwon: Heeseung, are you okay? We’re really worried about you. You don’t have to deal with this alone. Please talk to us.

His chest tightened as he read the message. He wanted to respond, to reach out for help, but fear and guilt paralyzed him. He knew Jungwon and the other only wanted the best for him, but he also knew how furious Iseul would be if she found out he had confided in them. The memory of her sharp words and the fire in her eyes made his fingers hover uncertainly over the keyboard. 

“I see you’re texting someone.”

Iseul’s voice, which sounded so beautiful when she was calm, cut through the quiet like a knife, making Heeseung jump. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked to his phone, and he quickly loved the screen, shoving it into his pocket.

“It’s just Jungwon,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. 

Her lips curved up into a small smile, but there was no warmth in it. “Jungwon, huh? Let me guess—he’s telling you I’m a problem, that you need to leave me, right?”

Jungwon and Iseul had been friends for about a year now and he knew all about her relationship but he never knew why they ended or failed but now he could understand why. Iseul always painted others to be the problem while convincing everyone around her that she was a victim. She’s a master manipulator, if you will, and now that Jungwon is seeing what his best friend is going through, he’s definitely regretting trying to play matchmaker. 

“Iseul, no one said that,” Heeseung replied, his voice shaky.

“They don’t have to say it,” she said, still calm, stepping closer to him. “I can see it in their eyes. They think I’m crazy. They think I’m the problem. But you know better, don’t you, Heeseung? You know how much I care about you and want to protect you. You know how much I love you.”

Heeseung looked up at her, his throat tightening. “I know Iseul. I know you love me.”

“Then why do you let them poison your mind against me?” She asked, her voice shaky like his was moments ago. “Do you want to leave me? Is that it? I mean—after everything we’ve been through?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, Iseul. I don’t want to leave you.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I couldn’t handle losing you, Heeseung. I need you.”

Heeseung’s heart ached as he looked into her eyes. He knew she was scared to lose him; he could feel it. He wanted to help her, fix whatever was broken inside her. But deep down, he knew he was breaking down with her.

Later that night, Iseul had finally fallen asleep. The two heading to their bedroom after the conversation she had instantly went to bed once her head rested on his chest. Heeseung lay awake staring at the ceiling. His phone vibrated against the nightstand. Another message from Jungwon. 

Jungwon: You don’t have to reply. Just know we’re here for you whenever you’re ready.

Tears pricked at Heeseung’s eyes as he read the message. He felt trapped between two worlds—the toxic intensity of his relationship with Iseul and the lifeline his friends were trying to offer. 

Now, fast forward three weeks later. 

Heeseung and Iseul were the same as usual but it got worse. She started getting physical with him. She’d throw things at him, like glass objects, even hitting him and he was scared. He hadn’t contacted anyone for those three weeks because she was watching over him like a hawk and for once in his life, he was genuinely scared. 

The once vibrant Heeseung had become a shadow of himself, his days consumed by fear and the suffocating grip of Iseul’s control growing tighter. 

One evening, after another grueling day of being scrutinized, Heeseung sat quietly at the kitchen table, stirring a cup of tea he didn’t even want. Iseul was pacing back and forth, her voice sharp and accusatory as she berated him over something trivial—a stray sock he’d left on the floor.

This was beyond jealousy now; it was over the smallest things. 

“You don’t care about me, do you?” She slammed her against the kitchen table. The loud noises causing him to flinch. “I give you everything, Heeseung, and this is how you repay me? With disrespect?”

“Iseul, it’s just a sock,” he said weakly

Her eyes darkened, and in an instant, she grabbed the mug of tea and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, tea splattering like a storm of rage. “It’s not about a fucking sock–it’s about you not appreciating me!”

Heeseung’s heart raced as he stood up, his hands shakingly raised defensively. “Iseul, please, calm down. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

But she wasn’t listening. In her fury, she picked up a book from the table and threw it at him. He ducked, the book narrowly missing his head and hitting the floor with a dull thud. She advanced on him, her hand striking his arm hard enough to leave a stinging sensation. 

“You’re pathetic,” her voice filled with anger. “Always trying to make me feel like I’m the problem. Maybe if you weren’t so weak, I wouldn’t have to do this!”

Heeseung didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His mind was screaming at him to leave, to run, but his body wouldn’t move. He was praying that someone would help him. Anyone.

Meanwhile, Jungwon, Jake, and Sunghoon had been growing increasingly worried. They hadn’t heard from Heeseung in weeks, and every attempt to contact him had gone unanswered. Even his social media had gone dark, a glaring red flag that something was wrong.”

“Heeseung's not okay,” Jungwon said firmly during a group meeting at Jake’s apartment. The six of them sat in a tense circle, their faces grim. 

“No shit.” Jay muttered. “The last time we saw him, she dragged him out like a prisoner. He hasn’t even read any of my messages.”

“I say we go to his place and check on him,” Sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “Heeseung might hate us for it, but I don’t care. That girl’s fucking deranged.” 

Niki nodded. “We have to do something. Heeseung’s never been gone for this long without talking to us. What if she’s hurt him?

After a brief discussion, they agreed to visit Heeseung unannounced the following evening. They needed to know if he was okay, even if it meant confronting his crazy girlfriend.

The next night, Heeseung sat in the living room, staring blankly at the TV. Iseul sat beside him. Her arm draped possessively over his shoulders. Every time he shifted, her grip tightened, a silent reminder of her control.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the oppressive quiet. Heeseung stiffened, his eyes darting to Iseul, who immediately rose, her expression hardening. “Stay here,” she commanded, walking toward the door. 

When she opened it, she was met with the sight of Jungwon, Jake, and Sunghoon standing on the threshold. Their faces were a mixture of worry and determination. 

“What are you doing here?” Iseul demanded, blocking the doorway so they couldn’t even get a glimpse of Heeseung.

“We’re here to see Heeseung,” Jungwon said firmly. “Is he home?”

“He’s fine,” she snapped. “You don’t need to see him.”

Jake stepped forward, his tone sharp. “We’re not leaving until we talk to him. Move.”

Iseul’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I said he’s fine. He doesn’t need you interfering in his life.”

At that moment, Heeseung appeared in the hallway, his pale face and hollow eyes shocking his friends. “Guys…” he started, his voice barely audible. 

“Holy shit, Heeseung, you look terrible,” Sunghoon said, pushing past Iseul before she could stop him. Jake and Jungwon followed, forcing their way inside. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Iseul shouted.

“We’re taking him with us,” Jungwon said coldly, his gaze fixed on Heeseung. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

Heeseung looked between his friends and Iseul, his heart pounding. He wanted to leave to escape the nightmare he’d been living, but the fear of what Iseul might do held him back. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Heeseung,” Iseul said, stepping in front of him and gripping his arm tightly. “You’re staying here. With me.”

“You don’t get to decide that,”Jake said, his voice firm. “Heeseung, if you want to leave, we’re here to help you. Just say the word.”

Tears welled in Heeseung’s eyes as he looked at his friends. For the first time in weeks, a glimmer of hope stirred in chest. But when Iseul’s nails dug into his arm, the hope flickered and nearly died. 

“I…” he hesitated, his voice trembling. 

“You can’t take him,” Iseul said. “He’s mine.”

But as Heeseung reached out, his steady presence grounding Heeseung, the words he had been too afraid to say finally escaped his lips.

“I want to leave,” Heeseung whispered, his voice breaking.”

Iseul’s grip faltered for the briefest moment and in that instant, Jungwon and Jake pulled Heeseung away from her. Iseul screamed, her voice a mix of rage and heartbreak, but Sunghoon stood between her and Heeseung, blocking her path. 

She tried everything to get to him but Sunghoon wouldn’t budge. 

It was finally happening. He was leaving her breaking all of his promises and throwing all of his words out of the window. She watched as they took him, breaking down at the sight. Tears ran down her pale cheeks and she fell to her knees instantly crying her eyes out. He was really gone. He really chose them over her. 

The ride back to Jungwon’s apartment was silent save for the faint hum of the car engine. Heeseung sat in the backseat, staring blankly out the window, his body trembling from exhaustion and the adrenaline that still coursed through him. Jake drove with clenched hands on the wheel, his jaw tight, while Jungwon sat beside him, constantly glancing back at Heeseung with concern.

When they arrived, the group ushered Heeseung inside. Sunghoon locked the door behind them, as if afraid Iseul might appear at any moment. Heeseung sank onto the couch, his shoulders slumped. His friends exchanged worried glances before Jungwon spoke.

“Heeseung, you need to tell us what’s been going on,” he said gently, sitting across from him. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

Heeseung hesitated, his throat tightening as he tried to find the words. His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “I… I don’t even know where to start,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Start anywhere,” Jake said firmly, sitting beside him. “We’re here now. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore.”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath, the dam of emotions he’d been holding back for weeks finally breaking. “She… she wouldn’t let me leave,” he began, his voice trembling. “She took my phone, monitored everything I did. If I even looked like I was thinking about leaving, she’d lose it. She started throwing things, hitting me…”

Sunoo’s hand flew to his mouth in shock. “She hit you?”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes welling with tears. “It got worse after that night at the café. She blamed me for everything—said I made her act like that, that it was my fault for not loving her enough.”

“That’s not love, Heeseung,” Sunghoon said, his voice low but firm. “That’s manipulation. Abuse.”

“I know,” Heeseung admitted, his voice breaking. “But I couldn’t leave. I was scared of what she might do—to me, to herself. She always made me feel like I owed her something, like I was nothing without her.”

Jay, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, finally spoke. “You don’t owe her anything, Heeseung. What she did to you wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Heeseung buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as the weight of his ordeal finally came crashing down. Jungwon moved to sit beside him, placing a comforting hand on his back. “We’re going to help you through this,” he said softly. “But you need to promise us that you won’t go back to her.”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Heeseung admitted, his voice muffled. “She’ll come after me. She always does. And part of me still—” He stopped, his voice catching as he realized what he was about to say.

“You still care about her,” Jake finished for him, his tone understanding but firm. “I get it, Heeseung. But caring about her doesn’t mean you should let her hurt you. You have to put yourself first now.”

Heeseung nodded hesitantly, though the fear in his eyes remained.

The group spent the night keeping Heeseung company, taking turns staying up to ensure he felt safe. They checked in on him constantly, offering him food, water, and comfort. Despite their efforts, Heeseung barely spoke, the trauma of the past weeks weighing heavily on him.

The next morning, Jungwon sat down with Heeseung at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them. “We need to talk about next steps,” Jungwon said carefully. “You can’t just hide here forever. Iseul’s not going to stop looking for you.”

Heeseung’s grip on his mug tightened. “What can I even do? She knows everything about me—where I work, where my family lives…”

“Then we get the authorities involved,” Jungwon said firmly. “We can help you file a restraining order, and if she tries to contact you, she’ll face consequences.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “A restraining order? I don’t know, Jungwon. What if that makes her angrier?”

“It’s not about her feelings anymore,” Sunghoon interjected, leaning against the counter. “It’s about keeping you safe. She’s already hurt you, Heeseung. Don’t give her another chance to do it again.”

The words struck a chord in Heeseung, and after a long moment of silence, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

The group spent the next few days helping Heeseung gather the necessary evidence to file a restraining order. He finally opened up about the extent of Iseul’s behavior—her constant monitoring, the physical abuse, the threats. Each detail made his friends’ anger grow, but they channeled it into supporting him.

Meanwhile, Iseul’s attempts to contact Heeseung escalated. She sent dozens of messages and left voicemails filled with alternating pleas and threats. Jungwon took Heeseung’s phone to document everything, ensuring there was a clear record of her harassment.

By the time they filed the restraining order, Heeseung felt a small, cautious sense of relief. It wasn’t over—he knew that—but it was a step toward reclaiming his life.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe. And with his friends by his side, he dared to believe that he might one day be free of Iseul’s shadow entirely.

The days following the filing of the restraining order were a whirlwind of emotions for Heeseung. Relief, fear, guilt, and a gnawing uncertainty all competed for space in his mind. His friends took turns staying with him at Jungwon’s apartment, ensuring he was never alone, but even their presence couldn’t fully ease the tension in his chest.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Heeseung sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV while Sunoo rummaged through the kitchen. Sunoo had insisted on making dinner that night, hoping the distraction would help Heeseung relax.

“You’ve barely eaten today,” Sunoo said, breaking the silence as he set a plate of food in front of Heeseung. “You need to take care of yourself, Heeseung. You’ve been through enough.”

Heeseung glanced at the plate, his stomach churning. “I’m not really hungry,” he muttered.

Sunoo frowned but didn’t push. Instead, he sat down beside him, his voice soft. “I know it’s hard right now, but you’re doing the right thing. Getting out of that situation—it’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done.”

Heeseung’s eyes flickered with doubt. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels… wrong. Like I abandoned her.”

“You didn’t abandon her,” Sunoo said firmly. “She was hurting you, Heeseung. You had to put yourself first, and that’s not wrong.”

A few hours later, Jake and Sunghoon arrived, their presence bringing a slightly lighter atmosphere to the apartment. Jake immediately flopped onto the couch beside Heeseung, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You look like you’ve been through a war,” Jake said, half-joking.

Heeseung managed a weak smile. “Feels like it, too.”

“Well, you’re not alone,” Sunghoon said, sitting across from them. “We’re all here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to fight this battle by yourself.”

Their words comforted Heeseung, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t let him fully relax. He knew Iseul too well. She wasn’t the type to give up easily, and her silence since the restraining order had been filed only made him more uneasy.

That unease turned out to be justified.

Late that night, as the group was winding down, Heeseung’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He froze, his heart pounding as everyone else in the room turned to look at it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jungwon asked, his voice laced with concern.

Heeseung nodded silently, his hands shaking as he picked up the phone. The screen displayed a series of missed calls and texts, all from an unknown number he recognized immediately as Iseul’s.

Iseul: I know where you are.Iseul: You can’t hide from me forever, Heeseung.Iseul: I’ll forgive you if you just come back. Don’t make me do something drastic.

Heeseung’s stomach dropped. He handed the phone to Jungwon, unable to read any more. Jungwon’s jaw clenched as he scrolled through the messages, his anger evident.

“She’s escalating,” Jungwon said grimly. “We need to let the authorities know.”

“Now?” Heeseung asked, his voice trembling.

“Yes, now,” Jay interjected. “This isn’t just harassment anymore. She’s threatening you.”

The group quickly sprang into action, calling the police and providing them with the messages as evidence. The officers assured Heeseung that they would follow up on the case, but their words did little to ease his anxiety.

After the officers left, the group sat in a tense silence. Heeseung felt like a burden, dragging his friends into a situation that seemed to have no end.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“Stop apologizing,” Sunghoon said sharply. “This isn’t your fault, Heeseung. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Jungwon added, his voice softer but no less firm. “She can try to scare you all she wants, but she won’t get to you as long as we’re here.”

That night, Heeseung finally allowed himself to cry. For weeks, he had bottled up his fear, his pain, and his guilt, but in the safety of his friends’ presence, the dam finally broke. Jungwon and Jake stayed by his side, offering quiet reassurances as he let it all out.

By morning, Heeseung felt lighter, though the shadow of Iseul’s presence still loomed. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but for the first time in a long time, he believed he might survive this. And with his friends by his side, he was determined to reclaim his life, piece by piece.

In the days following Iseul's threatening messages, Heeseung's friends became increasingly concerned about how far she might go. The restraining order hadn’t deterred her, and her escalating behavior made it clear she wouldn’t stop until she had Heeseung back under her control. Jake, always the practical one, suggested that they start looking into her past to understand more about her motives—and potentially find a way to protect Heeseung further.

“She’s unhinged,” Jake said, scrolling through his laptop as the group gathered at Jungwon’s apartment. “Nobody acts like that out of nowhere. There has to be something in her history—something we can use to get ahead of her.”

“I don’t know if we should dig into her personal life,” Jungwon hesitated, glancing at Heeseung, who was sitting quietly on the couch. “What if it makes things worse?”

Heeseung, who had been largely silent since the ordeal began, finally spoke up. “No. Do it. I need to know what I’m dealing with. I can’t live like this anymore.”

It didn’t take long for the digging to yield results. Jake found a series of social media accounts that seemed abandoned, with cryptic posts hinting at tumultuous past relationships. But it was Sunghoon, searching through local forums, who uncovered something truly unsettling: a police report from two years ago.

“She was in another relationship before you, Heeseung,” Sunghoon said, his face pale as he read the report aloud. “Her ex filed a restraining order against her. He claimed she stalked him, broke into his apartment, and even tried to sabotage his new relationship.”

The room went silent. Heeseung’s face turned pale as the weight of the discovery settled on him. “She’s done this before,” he whispered.

“And it gets worse,” Sunghoon continued, his voice shaking. “Her ex disappeared six months after the restraining order was issued. The case went cold. No evidence, no leads—just gone.”

“Are you saying…?” Sunoo trailed off, his eyes wide with fear.

“I’m saying we might be dealing with someone a lot more dangerous than we thought,” Sunghoon finished grimly.

As they delved deeper, more disturbing details emerged. Iseul’s high school records revealed incidents of violent outbursts and manipulative behavior. She’d been expelled from one school for attacking another student over a supposed slight, and another for threatening a teacher. There were whispers on old forums about her obsessing over a boy who had rejected her, though nothing concrete ever came of it.

“She’s been like this for years,” Jay said, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did we not see this coming?”

“She’s good at hiding it,” Jungwon said quietly. “She came across as so sweet and harmless at first. None of us thought she was capable of…” He hesitated, glancing at Heeseung, “...this.”

Heeseung sat in silence, his hands clenched into fists. He felt sick. The woman he thought he loved, the woman he had trusted, was a stranger to him—a stranger capable of things he could barely comprehend.

That night, the group debated their next steps. Sunghoon wanted to take the information straight to the police, but Jake argued that they needed more evidence to tie Iseul to her ex’s disappearance. Meanwhile, Jungwon suggested confronting Iseul’s parents or old acquaintances to learn more about her behavior.

“Someone has to know what happened with her ex,” Jungwon said. “If we can figure out what pushed her over the edge, maybe we can stop her before she does something worse.”

Heeseung shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to her family. They’ll just defend her. She’s probably been manipulating them, too.”

“We have to try,” Sunoo said gently. “Heeseung, we’re running out of time. She knows where you are, and she’s not going to stop until she gets to you.”

Reluctantly, Heeseung agreed.

The following day, Jake and Sunghoon visited Iseul’s childhood home, posing as concerned friends to her parents. Her mother, a soft-spoken woman with tired eyes, welcomed them in, but her father was immediately defensive.

“What’s this about?” her father demanded, crossing his arms. “If you’re here to talk about Heeseung, we don’t want to hear it.”

“We’re here because we’re worried about her,” Jake lied smoothly. “She’s been struggling, and we’re trying to understand how to help her.”

Her mother sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Iseul has always been… sensitive,” she admitted. “She cares too deeply. Sometimes it gets the better of her.”

“Cares too deeply?” Sunghoon repeated, his tone sharp. “She’s been stalking Heeseung, threatening him. This isn’t just ‘caring.’”

Her father glared at them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Iseul’s had a hard life. People misunderstand her.”

Her mother hesitated, then whispered, “There was someone before Heeseung. A boy she loved. When he left her, she was never the same. She became obsessed.”

“What happened to him?” Jake asked, his heart pounding.

Her mother didn’t answer, but the haunted look in her eyes spoke volumes.

When Jake and Sunghoon returned to Jungwon’s apartment and relayed what they’d learned, the room fell into a heavy silence. The pieces were starting to come together, and the picture they painted was terrifying.

“She’s done this before,” Jungwon said grimly. “And if we don’t stop her, she’ll do it again.”

“What if she already has something planned?” Sunoo asked, his voice trembling.

Heeseung’s stomach churned as he looked at his friends. “Then we don’t wait for her to act,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “We go to the police, and we stop her before it’s too late.”

Unbeknownst to them, Iseul was already watching. From a parked car down the street, she observed the comings and goings at Jungwon’s apartment, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel. She knew they were digging into her past, and she wasn’t about to let them ruin everything.

“Heeseung,” she murmured to herself, her eyes narrowing. “You belong to me. And no one is going to take you away.”

The game was far from over.

The next few days were filled with a quiet but intense determination. Heeseung’s friends, now more committed than ever to uncovering the truth about Iseul, dove headfirst into researching her past. Heeseung, though exhausted and still haunted by the relentless fear she instilled in him, reluctantly shared everything he knew. Every detail about her childhood, her trauma, and her obsession with control became key pieces to understanding the woman who was slowly dismantling his life.

“Iseul told me a lot over the years,” Heeseung said one night, as they sat around the living room. The tension was palpable, but his voice was steady as he continued. “She said her parents were emotionally abusive. She told me they would always put pressure on her to be perfect, to get everything right. She said they used to hit her when she failed to meet their expectations... and that they always told her she was worthless. That’s why she always has to be in control of everything around her. If she lets go, she feels like she’s going to break.”

Jungwon frowned, his fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table. “That explains a lot. It’s not just about you, Heeseung. She’s trying to control everything because she’s never had control in her own life.”

Sunghoon, who had been quietly listening, added, “It’s like a need for power. She’s so obsessed with keeping hold of you because it’s the one thing that makes her feel like she’s not completely helpless. Like she’s in charge.”

“That’s why she’s so possessive,” Jake murmured, his mind racing as he processed the new information. “But it’s more than just wanting you, Heeseung. It’s about her needing you to need her. She has to be the one pulling the strings, or everything falls apart.”

“I think we’ve been looking at it all wrong,” Jay said, his voice tinged with realization. “We’ve been thinking of her as some crazy ex or jealous girlfriend. But she’s not just obsessed with Heeseung—she’s obsessed with control. And if she doesn’t have control, she completely unravels.”

Heeseung swallowed, his eyes clouded with guilt and fear. “I just wanted to help her. I didn’t know how deep it went. I didn’t know how far she’d go to keep me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sunoo said, giving him a reassuring look. “You didn’t make her this way. And we’re going to fix this. We just need to understand her more.”

The team spent the next several days digging deeper. They scoured every piece of information they could find about Iseul—old school records, past social media accounts, even public records of her family history. What they uncovered was chilling.

Iseul’s parents had never been arrested for abuse, but there were whispers about their reputation within the small community they lived in. The more they dug, the clearer it became that her family had a history of mistreating her, both emotionally and physically. Her father had been a domineering figure, frequently found yelling at her in public, and her mother, though seemingly soft-spoken, had a cold, calculating air about her. Heeseung remembered the way Iseul had spoken about them, and he realized how much her mother’s behavior mirrored Iseul’s own—controlling, suffocating, and manipulative.

“I found something,” Jake said, breaking the silence one evening as he sat at his laptop. The group gathered around him, their collective eyes wide with anticipation.

“It’s an article from years ago,” Jake explained, his finger pointing at the screen. “It’s about Iseul’s mom, Mi-Young. Apparently, there was a case where Mi-Young was involved in a major fraud scheme, scamming people out of their savings. She was caught, but the case was dropped. They say it was because of her connections in the community. But what’s important is that, during the investigation, several witnesses came forward, talking about how Mi-Young had a terrifying grip on her daughter. They say she’d make Iseul do things to ‘earn her love.’ It’s all tied to that same need for control.”

“Is it possible Iseul learned that behavior from her mother?” Jungwon asked quietly, his voice filled with disbelief. “That she was taught to manipulate and control from a young age?”

Jake nodded grimly. “It seems like it. She’s repeating the cycle. And now, Heeseung, you’re the target.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, his expression dark. “This is bad. We thought we could reason with her, but it’s clear that we’re dealing with someone who has no idea what healthy love looks like. Someone who’s been conditioned to believe that control is the only form of affection.”

Heeseung felt his stomach churn. He had always known Iseul’s love was intense, but he hadn’t realized it was toxic—born out of years of manipulation and abuse. She wasn’t just someone with a simple jealousy problem; she had been shaped by abuse into a person who thought control and obsession were signs of love.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” Heeseung admitted, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I just wanted to be there for her. But now... I don’t know who she really is anymore.”

“You’re not the one who’s changed,” Jake said gently. “She’s the one who’s twisted everything. We just need to focus on getting you out of her grip. And for that, we need to keep looking at her past. There’s got to be something we can use to make her see that this isn’t love. It’s control, and it’s destroying both of you.”

Over the next week, the group continued to dig deeper, slowly peeling back layers of Iseul’s past. They discovered more disturbing details about her relationships, including an ex-boyfriend who had filed a restraining order against her for stalking and harassment. The police report detailed how she had bombarded him with dozens of texts and calls after their breakup, showing the same obsessive tendencies she had shown with Heeseung. The pattern was undeniable.

“She’s not capable of seeing how destructive this is,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head. “She’s been taught that this kind of obsession is normal. It’s how she learned to love.”

“And she’s using the same tactics with you, Heeseung,�� Jungwon added. “This is a cycle of abuse that goes back generations. And until she gets help, it’s not going to stop.”

“Maybe it’s time to try and confront her about it,” Sunoo suggested. “If we confront her with the truth, maybe she’ll see the damage she’s doing.”

But Heeseung couldn’t shake the fear in his chest. “What if it just makes things worse?”

“She’s already made things worse,” Jake said. “We can’t let her keep hurting you like this. We need to make her see that she’s destroying everything—everyone—around her.”

But as they gathered the final pieces of the puzzle, it became clear that confronting Iseul wouldn’t be as simple as revealing her past. The deeper they went into her history, the more they realized how deeply embedded her need for control was—and how far she was willing to go to keep it.

After weeks of research and discussions, the group finally reached a decision. They couldn’t keep running, and they couldn’t keep living in fear. They needed to confront Iseul, to make her face the truth about her past, her actions, and what she had been doing to Heeseung. Despite knowing how dangerous and volatile she could be, they decided they had no other choice. If they didn’t stop her now, things would only escalate further.

The plan was simple: they would draw Iseul in with Heeseung. She would be lured into thinking this was just another moment where she could reclaim him, control him. But once she was there, they would make sure the truth came crashing down on her. It was risky—too risky—but it was the only way to break the cycle.

The night before the confrontation, Heeseung was a mess. His hands shook as he stared at the group in the dimly lit living room. His friends tried to reassure him, but the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared... of what she’ll do. I don’t want her to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop her.”

Jungwon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, trying to offer a sense of calm. “You’re not alone, Heeseung. We’re doing this together. You’re stronger than you think, and we’re not going to let her hurt you anymore.”

“She’s not just hurting him,” Jake added, his voice low but full of conviction. “She’s been hurting all of us, and we can’t let her keep doing this.”

Heeseung nodded weakly but still looked unconvinced. The knot in his stomach tightened as he thought of Iseul—her eyes, filled with obsession and possessiveness, the way she could easily switch from sweet to violent in the blink of an eye. He didn’t know if he could handle facing that again.

The plan was set into motion the next evening. The group had managed to find a time when Iseul had been unusually quiet, as though she were planning something. They figured it was her moment of vulnerability. She had always been unpredictable, but she had never been one to resist Heeseung for long.

Heeseung called her from his phone, his voice shaking as he told her he needed to see her. She didn’t hesitate, immediately agreeing to come over. The tension in the apartment was thick with anxiety as the group made their final preparations. Heeseung sat on the couch, staring down at his phone, silently pleading for strength.

“I’m going to try to keep her calm,” Heeseung said to the group, looking at each of them in turn. “Please... don’t do anything unless she goes too far. I don’t want this to turn into a mess.”

Jungwon nodded. “You have to trust us, Heeseung. We won’t let her hurt you.”

The doorbell rang. The moment had come.

Iseul stood at the door, her presence immediately overwhelming the room. Her eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the group, her lips curling into a smile when they landed on Heeseung. Her beauty, though undeniably striking, only heightened the sense of danger that surrounded her.

“Heeseung,” she cooed, her voice sweet yet laced with something darker. “I knew you couldn’t stay away. I’m always here for you.”

Heeseung stood from the couch, his legs unsteady as he moved toward her. “Iseul... we need to talk. It’s time.”

Her eyes narrowed, her smile faltering for just a split second. “Talk?” she repeated, her tone suddenly hard. “What do we need to talk about?”

The group stood silently behind Heeseung, the tension palpable. Jungwon was the first to speak, his voice calm but firm.

“We need to talk about everything, Iseul,” he said. “About what you’ve been doing to Heeseung. About the way you’ve been controlling him, manipulating him... and about your past.”

Her eyes flicked from Jungwon to the others, her expression darkening. “What are you talking about?” she snapped, her hand twitching slightly toward the pocket of her jacket where a knife was hidden. The group noticed it immediately but stayed calm.

“We know about your parents,” Sunghoon continued, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “We know about how you were abused. We know you’ve been using Heeseung to fill that void in your life, to make up for the control you never had as a child.”

Iseul’s expression shifted to one of disbelief, her eyes widening for a moment as she took a step back. “You... you don’t know anything about me!” she hissed. “You think you can just dig into my life and expose me like this? You think you can tell me what to do?”

“We’re not telling you what to do, Iseul,” Sunghoon said softly, his voice unwavering. “We’re telling you that what you’re doing is wrong. You’re hurting him, and you’re hurting yourself in the process. You need help.”

“Stop,” Heeseung pleaded, stepping forward, his voice shaking. “Iseul, please... this isn’t love. This is control. You’ve been controlling me, manipulating me, and I can’t keep living like this. You’re breaking me.”

The words seemed to hit her like a slap. For a moment, she looked genuinely stunned, her face contorting with anger and confusion. “I’m not controlling you!” she screamed, her voice rising. “I love you, Heeseung. I love you more than anyone ever could! You can’t leave me. You can’t!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Heeseung said, his voice breaking. “I’m asking you to leave me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living in fear.”

Iseul’s eyes hardened, her lips curling into a snarl. “You think you can leave me? You think you can just walk away?” Her hand shot out, grabbing a vase off the table and throwing it at the wall, the sharp crash filling the room. She moved toward Heeseung in a blur, her hand grabbing his wrist with terrifying force, her nails digging into his skin.

“You’re mine,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous. “You’ll always be mine. And no one will ever take you from me.”

Before anyone could move, Jungwon stepped forward, placing himself between Iseul and Heeseung, trying to de-escalate the situation. “Iseul, this isn’t the way. This needs to stop. You can’t keep doing this.”

But she only pushed him aside, her face twisted with rage. “You think you can take him from me?” she spat. “Heeseung is mine! You’ll never understand! You’ll never feel what I feel for him!”

The group tried to step in, but the chaos was overwhelming. Iseul was breaking down in front of them, and it was clear—she wasn’t ready to face the truth.

In that moment, Heeseung realized how deep the damage ran. Iseul wasn’t just a woman in love. She was a person broken by years of abuse, unable to comprehend anything beyond control and possession. And no matter how much he wanted to help her, he understood now that he couldn’t fix this alone.

She was too far gone. The confrontation had only pushed her deeper into her spiral, and Heeseung was once again caught in the storm of her fury.

As the confrontation escalated, Iseul’s once-contained demeanor began to unravel before everyone’s eyes. Her face twisted in a way that was almost unrecognizable, the mask of control she had so carefully built over the years cracking under the pressure. She stood there, her chest heaving, the words from Heeseung and his friends hanging in the air like a heavy weight she couldn’t shake off.

Her eyes darted around the room, from one person to the next, as if searching for someone who could make it all stop, someone who could tell her that this wasn’t real—that she wasn’t being exposed, that she wasn’t losing control. But no one came to her rescue. The silence between them grew unbearable. Iseul could feel it—the suffocating reality that she was alone, that the walls she had so carefully built around herself were falling down. Her lips trembled as her hands began to shake.

“You’re all lying,” Iseul whispered, her voice barely audible, yet still sharp with disbelief. Her eyes locked onto Heeseung’s, pleading, desperate. “This isn’t what you think. I love you, Heeseung. I love you more than anyone ever could. You’re mine… I need you.”

Heeseung stood there, heart pounding in his chest. He saw the brokenness in her eyes, the desperation, and the chaos that was beginning to spill out. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew, deep down, it had gone too far. “Iseul, this isn’t love,” he said softly, his voice quivering with both fear and sorrow. “This is control. You’ve been controlling me, manipulating me. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep being the person you need me to be.”

She took a step back as if struck by the words, her body swaying slightly. “No, no,” she muttered, her voice shaky but louder now. “You can’t leave me, Heeseung. You can’t. I gave you everything. I did everything for you, and you’re going to throw it all away? You—” Her words caught in her throat, her breathing growing shallow and erratic.

Before anyone could react, she stumbled, her legs giving way beneath her as her hands gripped her hair, pulling at it as if she were trying to hold herself together. She collapsed to her knees on the floor, her body shaking violently. The sound that came from her wasn’t human—it was a gut-wrenching, primal sob that seemed to come from deep within her. It was the sound of someone whose mind had finally fractured, someone who had pushed themselves too far for too long.

“I’ve never been good enough for anyone!” she cried out, her voice cracking. “Not for my parents, not for you, Heeseung. I’ve always had to be perfect, always had to be everything everyone wanted me to be. And now you’re all telling me that I’m nothing, that I’m broken. But I am, aren’t I? I’m nothing but a monster.”

Jungwon stepped forward cautiously, his heart aching at the sight of her—this was no longer just a woman possessed by obsession; this was someone who had been destroyed by the years of abuse, who had been crushed by the weight of her own need for control. He knelt beside her, trying to offer some sense of comfort, but he was careful, knowing how volatile she could be.

“Iseul, no one is calling you a monster,” Jungwon said softly, his tone as gentle as he could muster. “You’ve been through a lot. We know that. But what you’re doing to Heeseung isn’t healthy. You’re hurting him—and yourself.”

She looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with raw emotion. “You don’t get it,” she spat bitterly, pushing him away as if he were the cause of her pain. “None of you get it. You think you can fix me. You think you can just make me better, make everything okay. But I’m beyond that, okay? I’m not fixable. I was never fixable.”

The group was taken aback by the venom in her voice, but they pressed on. They couldn’t let her spin this any longer, couldn’t let her use her pain as a weapon to hurt others. Heeseung, though his heart was breaking at the sight of her, knew this was the moment when everything would change—when she either broke free of her control or became completely consumed by it.

“Iseul,” Heeseung said softly, stepping closer to her despite his fear. “You are fixable, but you can’t do it alone. You need help, and I can’t be the one to help you anymore. I’ve been trying to be there for you, but it’s hurting both of us. This isn’t love. This isn’t how love is supposed to feel.”

She gasped, her eyes wild with panic. “No! Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” She grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his skin with painful intensity. “You can’t leave me, Heeseung. I need you. I can’t breathe without you. Don’t leave me like this. I’ll die without you. I swear I will!”

Heeseung recoiled, his chest tightening as she clung to him, her grip almost suffocating. The desperation in her eyes was chilling, and he could see the spiraling collapse that was unfolding before him. This wasn’t the woman he had once loved. This was someone who had been broken so many times by life and her past that there was nothing left but the need to consume, to possess, to destroy.

“I’m not leaving you, Iseul,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t stay in this toxic cycle anymore. I need to be free. We need to break free from this.”

Her eyes widened, her chest rising and falling erratically as her breath became shallow. “No... no, no, no!” she screamed, her voice rising in pitch until it was a raw, guttural scream that echoed throughout the room. Her face twisted in agony as she sank back to the floor, her hands reaching for anything, for something to hold on to.

“I can’t lose you, Heeseung,” she cried out, her body wracked with sobs. “I can’t lose you... I can’t be alone again.” She curled into herself, her sobs growing louder and more desperate as the weight of her own fractured mind began to collapse in on her.

The group stood frozen, not knowing how to react to this meltdown. They knew that they couldn’t let this continue. They couldn’t let Iseul drag Heeseung down into the abyss with her. But the tragedy was clear—she was so deep in her own torment, so lost in her need for control, that she didn’t see the damage she had caused.

“We’ll help you, Iseul,” Sunghoon said, his voice firm, but sympathetic. “But only if you let us. You need to get help. This can’t keep going on.”

She didn’t respond. Her sobs were the only answer, a sound that tore through the room, raw and vulnerable. Heeseung watched her, torn between the woman he had once known and the monster she had become. He didn’t know if there was a way back for her, but he knew one thing for certain—he couldn’t save her anymore. Not like this.

Iseul’s sobs slowly began to quiet, her body trembling as the weight of her emotional breakdown still clung to her like a heavy blanket. The silence that followed was thick, and the room seemed to close in around her, as though the very air itself was holding its breath. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, but her frantic energy seemed to be ebbing, leaving her more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Heeseung stood a few feet away, his hands trembling as he watched her—watching the woman who had once been so full of life, now reduced to a fragile, broken version of herself. His heart ached for her, but he knew that nothing would ever change unless she truly faced the reality of what was happening between them.

"I-I can't lose you," Iseul whispered hoarsely, her eyes now softer, almost pleading. Her voice was no longer the wild scream it had been moments before, but instead, there was a subtle fragility in her words. "Please, Heeseung... please don't leave me. I can't handle being alone. I can't."

Heeseung’s heart twisted in his chest at the sight of her vulnerability. He could see it now—the rawness, the brokenness that had been hidden behind her need for control. She wasn’t just a woman obsessed with him; she was someone who had suffered deeply, someone who had never been able to find solace or peace. He knew he couldn’t save her on his own, but he also knew that he couldn’t leave her in this state.

“Iseul…” Heeseung started softly, his voice filled with a quiet ache. “I’m not leaving you because I don’t care. I’m not leaving you because I hate you. I’m leaving because I want you to get better. I want you to heal. But you can’t heal when you’re holding on to me like this. You need help, and I can’t be the one to fix you. I’m not strong enough for that, and neither are you.”

Iseul's head hung low as she listened, her fingers curling tightly into her palms as she fought to keep herself composed. She nodded slowly, her breathing still shallow but more controlled now. “I understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ve been so lost, so selfish... I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I don’t know how to exist without you.”

“Iseul…” Heeseung took a tentative step forward, his eyes softening as he reached out, placing a hand gently on her arm. “You don’t have to exist for me. You need to exist for yourself. You need to find yourself again. You can’t keep defining your worth by what I can give you.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, the familiar spark of something once tender shining through the haze of her madness. For a brief moment, it seemed like the woman he had fallen in love with might still be there, buried beneath the layers of fear and possessiveness.

“I’ll go,” she said quietly, her voice quieter than it had been all night. “I’ll get help. I’ll go to therapy… I’ll work on myself. But, Heeseung…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her voice soft but insistent. “I can’t let you go completely. I can’t. I need you. I love you. Can’t we... can’t we still be together? Even just a little? I’ll try. I’ll try to change, I swear.”

The plea in her voice stung, a mixture of desperation and the remnants of the love she still felt for him. Heeseung’s heart clenched again as he processed her words, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He had never wanted to hurt her, never wanted to see her like this, but he knew that as much as he cared for her, being with her in this toxic, suffocating state wasn’t fair to either of them.

“I don’t know, Iseul,” Heeseung said quietly, his voice tight with conflict. “I really don’t know. I want to believe you, I do. But it’s going to take time. You can’t just fix everything overnight. I can’t be the one who keeps holding you up while you’re falling apart.”

She nodded, her expression softened, almost resigned, though the longing in her eyes remained. “I’ll try, Heeseung. I promise I will try. Just... please don’t leave me. Please don’t completely shut me out.”

For a moment, Heeseung just stood there, watching her. The room had quieted down, the tension still hanging in the air like a thick fog. Heeseung closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a slow breath. He wanted to help her, he really did, but he knew he couldn’t continue like this—not while she was still so unstable.

“I’ll be here for you, Iseul,” Heeseung said softly, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m not abandoning you. But I can’t be everything for you anymore. You need to take responsibility for your own healing. I can’t keep trying to fix you.”

Iseul took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at him. Her voice was barely a whisper, a plea that hung in the air. “You don’t have to fix me, Heeseung. Just don’t leave me completely. Please. I need you to be here... with me.”

Heeseung’s heart twisted again as he looked at her, seeing the quiet desperation in her gaze. For a moment, he almost gave in. But then he remembered everything that had happened, everything that had brought them to this point. He knew the road ahead was going to be long, and he couldn’t keep enabling her behavior. He couldn’t let his own feelings cloud the truth.

“I’ll be here,” Heeseung finally said, his voice steady but full of sadness. “But I need you to promise me something, Iseul. I need you to promise me that you’ll get the help you need. That you’ll take this seriously. And that you’ll give yourself the time to heal, even if it means we can’t be together for a while.”

Iseul’s eyes softened as she nodded slowly. “I promise,” she whispered, her voice fragile but sincere. “I’ll do anything, Heeseung. I just... I just need you to give me a chance. Just a little one.”

Heeseung hesitated, but then gave a small, pained smile. “We’ll see. But right now, you need to focus on yourself. That’s the most important thing. If we’re going to have a future, it’s going to start with you, Iseul. You.”

She nodded, looking down at her hands for a moment as if processing his words. Then, slowly, she looked up at him with a more composed expression, a quiet determination in her eyes. “I will. I promise.”

As Iseul slowly stood up, her body still trembling slightly from the emotional collapse earlier, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel a mixture of hope and dread. She had agreed to get help, but the road ahead would be difficult. The damage had been done, and he wasn’t sure if they would ever truly be able to go back to the way things were. But for now, all he could do was watch her take the first step toward healing—and hope that, one day, they both might find a way to move forward.

It had been a few months since the chaotic events that had nearly torn Heeseung and Iseul apart. During that time, Iseul had taken the necessary steps to heal, as painful as it had been. She went through therapy, committed herself to understanding her past, confronting the trauma that had shaped her, and taking time to reflect on her own behaviors. Slowly, the sharp edges of her personality that had once been suffocating, even dangerous, began to soften. Therapy had become her sanctuary, a space where she could express her fears, regrets, and emotions, all while learning how to process them in healthy ways.

The change wasn’t immediate, but it was profound. Iseul grew stronger, calmer, and more aware of her own feelings. She started to rebuild herself from the inside out, and the most noticeable change was her appearance. Her once-tired eyes, often filled with anxiety and fear, now sparkled with clarity and confidence. The lines of stress around her face softened, and her smile—once guarded—was now open and genuine. She looked healthier, more vibrant, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The vulnerability that had defined her before was still there, but now it was balanced with strength, a strength born from acceptance and self-growth.

One afternoon, after a long day of therapy and self-care, Iseul decided to visit Heeseung. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and while she was still unsure of their future together, she felt ready to face him—not as the broken person she once was, but as someone who had learned to stand on her own.

It was a Saturday, and Heeseung was with his friends—Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, and Jay—at a café they frequented. They had been talking about everything from their recent plans to life in general when Iseul walked through the door. The bell above the café door chimed softly, but it was the way she walked in that caught everyone’s attention. It was calm and composed, her posture confident, as if she had shed the skin of her former self and emerged into something entirely new.

Heeseung’s eyes locked on her the moment she entered. The shift was subtle at first, but as his gaze lingered on her, the change became undeniable. Iseul had always been beautiful, but now, there was something different about her—something deeper. Her eyes, once filled with tension, now glistened with a calm radiance that made her even more striking. Her long hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves, the strands catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal. The clothes she wore were simple, but there was an understated elegance about them. Everything about her screamed maturity, and it was hard for Heeseung to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw her.

The rest of the group noticed it too. They exchanged glances, each of them surprised by the transformation. Sunghoon was the first to speak.

“She looks… different,” he said softly, leaning over to Jake. “Like, in a good way. You can tell she’s been working on herself.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” Jake replied, his eyes following Iseul’s every movement. “She seems so... peaceful now.”

Iseul walked up to the table, her steps graceful, her eyes meeting Heeseung’s with a quiet confidence. She smiled at him, a genuine, unguarded smile that made his heart swell. The tension between them was still there, but it was softer now—more like the remnants of something that had once been intense but was now being gently set aside.

“Heeseung,” she said, her voice steady and calm, with a warmth he hadn’t heard in months.

“Heeseung, we need to talk,” she added, her eyes soft but earnest.

Heeseung swallowed, unsure of how to react, but the old protective instinct kicked in, and he stood up to greet her. There was a small lump in his throat, but he managed a smile, though it was more hesitant than before.

“Iseul,” he said, the word coming out like a breath of relief, as if he hadn’t realized how much he missed her until this very moment. “You look… different. Good different. How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing a lot better,” Iseul said with a small laugh, though it was laced with a trace of sadness. “It hasn’t been easy, but I’m working on it. I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve been focusing on myself—getting healthier.”

“I can see that,” Heeseung replied, his gaze lingering on her face. “You’ve changed, Iseul. You look… happier. More like yourself. The way you carry yourself, it’s like you’ve found peace.”

Iseul smiled softly, nodding. “I’m getting there. It’s a work in progress, but I’m finally at a place where I can breathe again.”

The group of friends, watching from the side, exchanged looks of approval. They had all been worried about Iseul’s mental state during the worst of it, but now, seeing her this way, they could tell that she had truly made strides.

Just then, Minji walked into the café, and her eyes immediately found Heeseung and Iseul. There was a moment of hesitation, but then Minji smiled warmly and walked over to the group, greeting everyone before her eyes settled on Iseul.

“Hey, Iseul,” Minji said, her tone friendly but curious. “You look... amazing. What’s been going on with you?”

Iseul turned to Minji, offering a soft smile. “I’ve been working on myself. Taking time to get better, to heal. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around, but I’m trying to make things right.”

Minji raised an eyebrow but smiled back. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it wasn’t easy for you. But you’re doing great, I can tell.”

Iseul’s smile widened slightly as she nodded, appreciative of the kind words. Then she turned to Heeseung again, her gaze softening. “I’ve missed you, you know. I’ve missed us. I know things can’t go back to the way they were, but I want us to find a way to move forward, even if it means starting slow.”

Heeseung felt a pang in his chest as he looked at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes that still remained despite her progress. “I’ve missed you too, Iseul,” he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere. “It’s been hard, but I’m glad to see you’re doing better. I just want you to be happy—whether that means with me or not. You deserve to find peace, Iseul.”

The group watched in silence, a sense of relief washing over them. There was no more tension in the air, no more feeling of uncertainty. For the first time in a long while, everything felt *normal*—like there was hope for the future. The heavy weight that had once consumed Iseul seemed to have lifted, and though there were still some unanswered questions between her and Heeseung, it was clear that they were both on a journey of healing.

As the group continued to chat, with Minji teasing Iseul about her newfound serenity and the others sharing small jokes, Heeseung and Iseul found themselves falling into an easy conversation. There was no longer any strain in the way they spoke, no sense of urgency. The quiet bond they once had was slowly beginning to stitch itself back together, thread by thread.

For the first time in a long while, Heeseung felt like there might be hope—for both of them.

As the weeks passed, Heeseung’s interactions with Iseul became more frequent. She had kept her promise to continue with her therapy and was genuinely making progress, slowly but surely. Each time they met, Heeseung saw a new side of her—one that was more open, more willing to accept her flaws, and more determined to heal. Iseul’s growth was visible not just in her emotional stability but in the way she handled situations that would have once triggered a meltdown. She was learning how to manage her insecurities, how to communicate more effectively, and most importantly, how to give space to Heeseung instead of suffocating him with her needs. 

For Heeseung, seeing Iseul like this was both comforting and confusing. There was a part of him that wanted to trust that she had truly changed, but the memory of everything they had gone through still lingered, like a shadow he couldn’t shake. Yet, as he spent more time with her, he began to realize that she wasn’t the same person who had spiraled out of control months ago. There was a maturity in her actions now, a sense of self-awareness that hadn’t been there before. She wasn’t perfect, but she was trying—and for the first time in a long while, Heeseung allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could try again.

One evening, Heeseung sat down with his friends, Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, and Minji, at their usual hangout spot. The conversation had steered toward relationships, and naturally, the topic of Iseul came up. Heeseung had been hesitant to bring her up, unsure of how to approach the subject without reigniting the tension that had existed between him and his friends. But tonight, something felt different. He had been spending more time with Iseul, and he needed to talk about it—needed to process what he was feeling.

“I’ve been thinking,” Heeseung began, his voice cautious, yet determined. “About Iseul… about us.”

The table fell silent, and every eye turned to him, some expressions curious, others wary. Minji, who had been sitting next to Heeseung, raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

“You’re really going there, huh?” Minji said, her tone teasing but laced with concern. “Are you sure about this, Heeseung?”

Heeseung hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he looked around at his friends. “I mean… I think she’s different now. I really do. She’s been working on herself—going to therapy, really taking responsibility for everything that happened.”

Jungwon leaned forward, his tone skeptical but still supportive. “We’ve seen the change in her. Iseul is calmer, more stable. But I’m gonna be real with you, man,” he added, his gaze serious, “You’ve gotta be careful. We’ve all seen how she can flip. No one’s forgotten how things went down.”

The others nodded in agreement, the weight of the memories still hanging over them like a dark cloud. Jake crossed his arms, his face tense.

“I don’t know, Heeseung,” he said, his voice low. “I get that you’re trying to give her a second chance, but after everything that went down, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. What if she falls apart again? What if you get dragged back into that mess?”

“I get it,” Heeseung said, his voice quieter now, a trace of uncertainty creeping in. “But I see something in her now that I didn’t see before. She’s really trying to change. I want to be there for her.”

Minji watched Heeseung closely, sensing the conflict in his words. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m not saying she hasn’t changed, Heeseung. I’ve seen it too. But… you have to be careful. We all know how intense things got with her. If she snaps again—if things go back to how they were—are you ready to handle that? And are you sure you want to? Because this isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about everyone around you, too.”

Heeseung’s gaze flickered down to the table, his mind racing as he processed their words. He understood their concerns, but a part of him couldn’t let go of the hope that Iseul was different now. That the person she had become wasn’t the same one who had suffocated him with her possessiveness. But Minji’s words stung, because they were true. He wasn’t just diving back into this relationship alone; he had his friends to consider, too. They had all witnessed how volatile Iseul had been, how dangerous it had been for Heeseung to be involved with her when she was at her worst.

Sunghoon spoke up next, his voice calm but steady. “I agree with Minji. You’ve gotta be cautious, Heeseung. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And none of us want to go through that again. But if you really believe she’s changed, and you want to take that risk, then you should. Just don’t be naive about it. Set boundaries. Keep your guard up. Don’t let her back in just because you’re hoping she’s different.”

Heeseung nodded, the weight of his friends' words settling heavily in his chest. He appreciated their concern, but he also knew they weren’t going to understand his feelings completely. Only he knew the subtle shifts he had seen in Iseul—the small, telling moments where she had chosen to communicate instead of lash out, where she had shown patience instead of control.

“I hear you,” Heeseung said softly, his voice filled with resolve. “I know what I’m getting into, but I think I owe it to both of us to at least try. I want to believe in her. I want to believe she’s different.”

Minji leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied him. “Just promise me one thing,” she said seriously. “If things start to go south again—if you start feeling like you’re losing yourself, or if she gets possessive again—you’ll step back. You won’t let yourself get lost in it. Okay?”

Heeseung met her gaze, her words striking a chord deep inside him. “I promise,” he said with a quiet nod. “If things go sideways, I’ll walk away.”

The group was silent for a moment, each of them processing Heeseung’s decision. They didn’t agree with it, but they understood it. They had been his friends through everything, and they wanted what was best for him. All they could do now was stand by his side, no matter what happened next.

Later that evening, after the conversation had died down, Heeseung texted Iseul. He was about to meet her at a quiet park, where they had agreed to talk. As he waited for her to arrive, his mind raced. He had just shared his thoughts with his friends, who were concerned about him, and part of him wondered if they were right. But there was another part of him—one that couldn’t deny how much he still cared for Iseul, how much he wanted her to succeed. He knew this wouldn’t be easy. But maybe, just maybe, it was worth trying.

When Iseul finally arrived, her face lit up when she saw him, and Heeseung felt his heart give a small, hopeful flutter. She had come so far, and while there was still a long road ahead of them, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel like they were taking the first steps toward something better.

“I’ve missed you,” Iseul said quietly, her voice soft but full of sincerity.

“I’ve missed you too,” Heeseung replied, his tone more certain now than it had been before.

They stood there, just the two of them, in the quiet park, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt possible.

As weeks turned into months, Heeseung and Iseul continued their tentative steps toward rebuilding what had once been a complicated and volatile relationship. Both were aware of the gravity of the situation—Heeseung because he had witnessed firsthand how easily things could spiral out of control, and Iseul because she knew the emotional and psychological toll her actions had once taken on him. But they were determined to take things slow, to honor the progress they had both made, and to rebuild their trust from the ground up.

The next step in their journey was one that neither of them had anticipated: learning to navigate life as individuals first, and as a couple second. For Iseul, this meant continuing her therapy, staying committed to the healing process, and allowing herself to lean on Heeseung in a way that wasn’t suffocating. For Heeseung, it meant learning how to be supportive without feeling like he was walking on eggshells, and not allowing himself to get lost in the dynamics of their past relationship.

One evening, Heeseung invited Iseul to join him and his friends for a casual dinner at a local restaurant, something they hadn’t done in months. This was a small but significant step forward for both of them, as it marked the first time that Heeseung had openly included Iseul in his social circle again. It wasn’t lost on either of them how much this moment meant—it was a sign of the trust they had been rebuilding, even if it was still fragile.

As they walked into the restaurant, Iseul’s heart raced. She had been working hard on her social anxiety, on her tendency to shut herself off from the world, but being in a public space with Heeseung’s friends still made her feel exposed. Yet, she reminded herself that she had made progress. She had earned this moment. She had worked so hard to get here, and she wasn’t going to let fear take it away.

“Are you nervous?” Heeseung asked quietly as they were seated at a large table, the others chatting animatedly around them.

“A little,” Iseul admitted, her voice soft but honest. “I just… I don’t want to mess things up. I know I’ve done a lot of damage in the past.”

Heeseung reached across the table, his fingers brushing gently over hers, grounding her. “I know, but I’m here with you. You’re not alone in this.”

Iseul smiled at him, grateful for his words, but still unsure of herself. The reality was that she knew this was just another step, another test. She had to prove to herself, to Heeseung, and to his friends that she was truly ready for a fresh start. There were still moments when she felt like the old version of herself, the one consumed by jealousy and fear, but she also knew that she had changed, and that she was capable of something better.

As the night went on, Iseul gradually started to relax. The conversations flowed, the laughter was genuine, and the atmosphere was warm. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was truly part of the group, not as an outsider or someone to be pitied, but as someone who was allowed to be herself. 

Minji, who had been quietly observing Iseul throughout the evening, leaned over and whispered to Heeseung, “She’s different, you know? I can see it. She’s more confident now. More at ease with herself.”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze softening as he watched Iseul interact with the others. “She really is. I’m proud of her.”

The night ended on a high note, with everyone joking and laughing as they said their goodbyes. Heeseung walked Iseul to her car, his hand casually resting on her lower back as they walked through the parking lot.

“I’m really proud of you tonight,” Heeseung said, his voice sincere. “You were amazing.”

Iseul stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him. “You’re proud of me?” Her eyes were wide, as if she still couldn’t fully believe that Heeseung was seeing her progress.

“Of course I am,” Heeseung replied, his gaze steady. “You’ve come so far. It’s not easy, but I can see how much you’ve worked to be better. You’ve earned this moment.”

Tears welled up in Iseul’s eyes, though they were different from the tears she used to shed. These were tears of gratitude, of relief, because for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was truly on the right path. 

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” Iseul whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Heeseung gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that had escaped. “You could’ve,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to. I’m glad I was here.”

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded away. They were two people who had come a long way—individually and together—and there was no rush, no pressure. Whatever the future held, they were both learning how to navigate it, one step at a time.

In the weeks that followed, Heeseung and Iseul found themselves continuing to build on this newfound sense of balance. They were learning how to give each other space, to communicate more openly, and to respect the boundaries that had once been a point of contention. Heeseung was still wary of the past, of what Iseul had been capable of when she was at her lowest, but he also couldn’t deny the feelings he still had for her. Those feelings had never truly gone away, even when things were at their darkest. And now, with every passing day, he saw more and more of the woman he had once fallen for—a woman who was growing, evolving, and becoming someone worthy of his trust again.

Iseul, on the other hand, knew that her journey was far from over. She had come to understand that her past actions were not an excuse for her mistakes, and that healing was an ongoing process. But every step forward, every small victory, was a testament to the strength she had inside her. And as much as she wanted to be with Heeseung, she knew she had to focus on herself first. She was learning to love herself, to find peace without relying on someone else to fix her, and that was the most important step she could take.

The road ahead was still uncertain, and there would be moments of doubt and fear, but both Heeseung and Iseul had come to understand that they didn’t have to face it alone. Together, they had the strength to move forward, no matter how slow or difficult the journey might be. They were learning to build a foundation of trust, respect, and mutual growth—and that was the first step in creating something that could withstand the challenges of the past.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And that, to them, was enough.

[nymphomatique]

-ahem after reading your nerd/loser!Miguel I just CANT ✊😩 ❤ I gonna need ask orrrr request something !...YOU MADE SOMETHING AWOKEN something in me that I i JUST can't explain😵😳 but NEED TO BE RELEASED (😏) and now today I wanted to request my take on it if that ok with you 😌😏

Ok hear me out nerdy loser/horny!Miguel x YOU GUESS IT popular/richfm!reader 😝!!!..

So let me explain the plot first 😌 .so let just say we never seen Miguel (it been an long time since) only remember that name while reader was in highschool and reader was one of Miguel bully I guess.. (even though she not the one laying an hand on him 😒😔) as she just watch as her popular group of friends bullied Miguel seeing him have tear down acting nothing like an man... ( what an man baby)'Which taught was more *interesting* about this nerd. but reader always think he was cute (I guess reader say it in her mind) even if he was an loser nerd at high school and more of an quite guy and only care for work.but the best part of Miguel in high school is that he ALWAYS obey no matwhat towards you/fm!reader 😩(god I don't know if I have to explain the next scene but I think I just hints some 😝😋 blow jobs overstuim- i mean many !! I want to see. Him cry on the desk while reader under it 🗣✊)

This is could be an flash back honestly I don't care 🗣🗣 I hope your doing great and having an awesome day

you were cooking nonnie‼️ i hope this translated well into writing. and yes timeskip crumbs 🤭

cw: no smut in this one folks! timeskip present, mentions of cannabis use, miguel gets bullied ;(, reader saves him tho dw, genuinely just fluff, teeny bit of d/s stuff, allusions to sex at the end. italic text is a high school flashback! enjoy 🫶🏾

“i cannot believe you had braces!” miguel laughs at your yearbook picture. you smack his arm and roll your eyes at his laughter.

“s’not funny. was only my freshman year.” you mumble,

“i’m just kidding honey, you’re still gorgeous, braces or not,” he says, kissing your temple. the two of you were sitting on your couch in your shared condo, looking at your old high school yearbook.

“you’re flattering me to get in my pants,” you quip. miguel wraps an arm around you and kisses your neck whispering low. “don’t need flattery to do that.”

you push his face away and snort. “when did you get so suave, mr. o’hara?” you question. “you weren’t as smooth in high school if u remember correctly.”

“you’d be right, but meeting you changed me for the better, no?” he flips the yearbook pages, finding his picture in the sea of others.

“maybe you changed me,” you say lowly.

“aww, come on pete, lay off him will you?” flash thompson laughs. “nah, he’s too easy,” peter replies. they had been roaming the halls, cutting class to smoke a joint. since peter was out early, he figured meeting you once your class period was over would be fun, high sex in the bathroom stalls was on his bucket list after all, and you never told him no when it came down to a good time.

in the midst of both flash and peter roaming the halls, they had ran into miguel o’hara, clutching his books in his hands during his free period, roaming the halls like them. nudging flash in his shoulder, peter made a show of miguel. he had pushed him into the lockers, feigning accident. miguel hit the rusted metal with a thud, dropping his books in the process.

“oh, did i bump you? my deepest apologies,” peter mocks, flash not even trying to hide his smile. miguel looks up from his place on the ground between the two, rubbing his shoulder that hit the locker. not worth it, he thinks, and moves to reach one of his books. before he can grab it, peter kicks it across the hall. miguel’s eyes stay focused on the ground. “aww, what happened? you got butterfingers, o’hara?” flash laughs.

“pick up your fuckin’ books, you’re blocking the hall,” peter directs towards miguel. miguel stays unmoved, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes still glued to the floor. peters angry, feeling disrespected. “hey,” he says, and the hostility beginning to bubble in his voice is clear. “you fuckin’ deaf or what? i said pick up for fuckin-”

“the fuck is going on here?” you interrupt, seeing peter and flash freeze for a split second. you had left a while ago to go to the bathroom and skip class, but had decided to stop by your lockers, where you found peter and flash bullying some random.

“hey, baby,” peter begins. your eyebrow raises and he drops the act. “we uh- we were just tryna help h-”

“can it. i can smell the pot off you guys, fuckin’ gross. get outta here before you get caught with no hall pass,” you dismiss both peter and flash. peter makes way to kiss you goodbye but you move your head, your eyes telling him to get the fuck on.

when both peter and flash are long gone down the hall, you turn to miguel. “hey,” you say. he finally looks up at you and you see tears welling in his eyes. you wince, and wordlessly kick his book back to him. watching him gather up his books is almost disheartening, usually you laugh at something this pathetic. your feelings get the better of you, so you walk to miguel and buy your hand on his chin, lifting his head up to look at you. the eye contact sends a weird feeling in your chest, his tear stained brown eyes filled with emotion.

“chin up, dweeb,” you say, touching the tip of his nose and winking at him before you get up and leave, off to see what trouble peter found himself in.

miguel is in shock. that’s the first time he’s ever been talked to by someone popular. a popular girl at that. miguel looks back at your figure walking away, hips swaying with determination and he feels his heart swell in his chest.

“you gettin all sappy on me now, baby?” miguel quips. “funny. you must have forgotten what to address me as. i’ve been too nice to you,” you reply, your gaze intense. miguel swallows and his whole demeanour changes. “i didn’t forget, mistress,” he replies. you smile, getting up from the couch, pulling miguel up by his shirt to follow you.

“that’s my good boy.”

[fullyinconsequential]

Here’s a 3am Steddie rant I think every Steddie lover (and possibly hater) should hear. I have no goal to convert anyone—just to say that the ship did not actually “come from nothing.” Here’s why:

I don’t understand how there wasn’t Steddie foresight in the writer’s room.

So they play it up in season 3 like Steve just can’t get the girl and when he does she’s not the right girl and yada yada yada—cool beans. I love his character arc with Robin, their friendship, her queerness. I love their entire bathroom interaction.

Specifically: “It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school. Maybe cuz Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me, or I wouldn’t be prom king…. First of all, she’s hilarious. So funny. I feel like this summer I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she’s smart—way smarter than me…. She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

Traits Robin Also Has that Eddie Shares:

Outcast

Band Kid

The Witty Banter

Eddie’s personality is VERY Robin. Not perfectly so, but maddeningly close.

Another point:

This is just the same person in different gender specific fonts, A.K.A. Steve’s “love interest” versus a guy who called him “big boy” completely unprompted and interrupted a tender moment between him and his “love interest” and complimented him for an entire scene while Steve wore his clothes.

So, really, one of them’s Steve’s love interest and the other is Nancy Wheeler /hj.

I write a lot, and as someone who both writes and consumes an abhorrent amount of media, whoever wrote this down, casted and costumed this way, and allowed for the interactions between Steve and Eddie to be as nuanced as they were (EX: the scene in which Eddie steps forward like he has more to say to Steve before he goes off and kills himself) had to have known what was going to happen. There is simply no way of not seeing it.

And if they didn’t want people shipping Steddie at the scale which they do, here’s what went wrong:

First: defaulting to Steve wanting his ex back is just plain shitty writing. It means you don’t know where to go with the character anymore, and since you’re certain he’s done all the growing he can do, he’s just gonna double back to the conflict he was in in the FIRST SEASON.

Are you serious right now, bro?

Steve’s arc as a character has been absolutely heartwarming to watch. If anything, he’d have been better off given the “I need to figure out how to be happy on my own” narrative. Throwing him back at Nancy is a cop out, a big one.

Second: Eddie. Throwing Eddie in the mix was absolutely a WILD decision, because he looks like Nancy, he banters like Robin, and GENDER IS NO LONGER A PLAUSIBLE REASON FOR AN AUDIENCE TO DENY CHEMISTRY, OR EXPLAIN IT AWAY. Not in the year of our lord 2023, no sir. Not unless you’re going to explicitly state in some way to an audience that these characters are DEFINITIVELY STRAIGHT. And with Eddie, they went as far off that course as possible.

The outcast stuff. The D&D stuff. The hatred of the system. The mysteriously living with his uncle and not his parents. THE HANKERCHIEF IN HIS BACK POCKET.

So essentially, this is what they did:

They took a beloved character, flubbed over his character arc because they weren’t sure what to do with it.

Then, they created a SECOND beloved character, made him likable, lovable, even, and relatable. Then they gave him half and half personality and looks of Steve’s last two love interests. Then they gave us scenes of them together where they showed chemistry, genuineness, and playfulness.

Then they EXPECTED that we as an audience had enough heteronormativity left as a society to say—oh, those two guys aren’t flirting with each other even a little bit because they’re two guys and obviously that doesn’t happen.

WHEN IN THE SAME SEASON WE WATCHED WILL AND ROBIN GO GAY PANIC AND DESPAIR LIKE?????

Pick a side pick a side, are your characters fucking gay or is your audience fucking blind?

Point being, I have some friends IRL who don’t really get this. They think Steve and Eddie hardly interacted enough for there to be romance at all, but I think it’s less about how much they interacted and more about the (unintentional) set up they were given by the writers.

Steve’s a truly beloved character and I don’t know on ST fan that wants to see him just end up back with Nancy Wheeler like his entire character arc was just to “get the girl” and “have six kids.” Which he already has by the way.

Anyway, that’s just my two cents. I’m not advocating for anyone to ship them, I’m just saying it’s honestly a perfectly logical conclusion to make, especially if you CARE about Steve as a character, you know? We want him to be with someone genuine, someone who challenges him to be better, to be different than he was. Nancy couldn’t handle doing that. Robin could, but they’re platonic af.

So why wouldn’t it be Eddie?

Rest in peace, by the way. You would’ve loved this text post.

[nnnn99999]

I finished watching ep 1 and 2 of bad buddy series and I love it already. I really want to watch more but it's already super late and I need to go sleep. Here are my thoughts on this series so far.

The production is really good so far.

The music really stands out to me. It is used a lot but doesn't feel overdone. I need to rewatch to be sure if it's as intentional as I think it is, but the music adds context to the scenes which is fun.

This show is so funny. Not in a cringey way either. More like a lighthearted and natural way. Like I found myself genuinely laughing out loud at times.

Pat, Pran and Pa are so adorable.

The baby versions of the characters are so cute oh my motherly heart.

I am really digging the PatPran frenemy dynamics. I need to see more before I elaborate why I like their dynamics so much. I just adore them already.

When I look at Pat I just see a husky.

Pran seems to be the most self aware character so far. I want to see if he will be the first one to notice the dynamic shift as their relationship changes.

Seeing the PatPa sibling dynamic made me appreciate my sister so much. Sure, she often uses the older sister card to make me do stuff, but at least she is not gross. Also she gives me tasks, not chores. Yes Pat I am telling you to stop making Pa do your chores. Justice for younger siblings who have to do chores for their older siblings!

The PatPran fake fighting is so funny. Baby PatPran falling over when their hands are a mile away from each other was so hilarious. The adult version of the fake fighting is actually one of my favorite scenes so far. I need to revisit this when I am done watching the whole thing because I know there's a lot I missed here.

I hate when parents try to indoctrinate their children. Just let them breathe okay? Have your feuds and friends and whatever without dragging your children into it. Also stop putting pressure on your children and let them do what they want. Just give them the freedom to grow. They are their own person, so let them explore themselves on their own. Ugh I'll leave it at that for now but I already have so much more to say about both sets of parents and I can tell its probably going to get worse. Like I know they love their children a lot but ugh. I just know these parents are going to piss me off later on in this show. I just know it.

That one scene where Pat touches Pran's face without washing his hands after peeing was so gross. I know Pat is gross in general but that was too much.

The number of times I went 'boys being idiots' in just 2 eps is astounding. This is the brand of idiocy I have only ever seen within a group of boys. These boys sent me back to my school days. I have seen these exact scenes and conversations happen. Especially the one where Pran's friends tease him about being hit on. I will never forget that tone of voice. Even the getting ready to fight at the drop of a hat is so familiar. The number of times I have seen boys getting all up in each others' faces for the stupidest reasons imaginable are countless. I have never seen boys actually fight in school but I had a guy friend tell me all about their fights outside of school. Then these same boys who were punching each other because one hit the other with a paper bullet launched from a rubber band slingshot(they were having a war in class and I almost got hit multiple times) would hug each other and jump around when the school team won a sports match. Also, their collective IQ seems to magically disappear when they are together and they are left with half a braincell to be shared by the whole group. That's why they become boys being idiots.

OhmNanon are undoubtedly the stars of this show and not just because they are the main characters. They are doing such a great job of selling me their characters. Their scenes together are so fun to watch.

I am going to write a separate post about Ohm Pawat specifically because I already have so much to say about him.

Yeah I think that's about it. Actually there is more but I want to see how some things develop before I comment on those. @airenyah I am so glad I can share this with you. I love it so much already. I totally understand the obsession, I am quickly getting there too. Like I want to rewatch it already. I knew I was going to like bbs considering our mutual love for simm and ha but I really didn't expect to like it so much already. I didn't even watch the trailer, I just jumped into the 1st ep directly. And well I am having a blast!

[lonelychicago]

tagged by @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @eowon 💗

again, a snippet from my dispatch eddie single dad buck fic 💗 (this is way more than seven sentences but i love this scene so much and i was dying to share it)

Eddie helps Phoebe witha few more math problems until he can hear her dad in the background.

"Did you call 911 again, Pheebo? What am I gonna do with you, huh?" Eddie hears what it sounds like the man doing a raspberry and Phoebe giggling before some stactic and then a gravelly, tired voice comes on the line. "Sorry, she does this—"

"I know." Eddie chuckles. "I'm Eddie, from the last time?"

"Oh, cra—" He cuts himself before he can finish the word, probably more for his daughter's benefit than Eddie's. "I mean, uh— Sorry."

"It's okay. I really don't mind." He shrugs, even if the man can't see him, and he leans back on his chair. "It's a quiet shift anyway."

"Dude! You just jinxed yourself!" Comes the guy's outrageous gasp.

"Oh please, don't tell me you believe in that crap."

"Of course I do! When I was a probie I made the huge, huge, mistake of saying that word and we got like thirty-six calls. Thirty-six calls." he emphazises. "In a day!"

"You sound like my Abuela. Are you gonna tell me you believe in ghosts too? Santa Muerte? Gremlins?"

"I'm respectful of all things supernatural and I don't mock the universe, thank you very much."

"Sure you are." Eddie finds himself laughing despite himself, and even— just for the tiniest bit of a second— forgetting he's at work, until Linda and Sue clear their throat and Josh sends him a dirry look from behind them. "Uh, anyway. Since Phoebe doesn't need any more of my help, I probably should go."

"Yeah, right. Uh, thanks for humoring my six year old. That's very nice of you." Eddie hears the genuine, pure honesty and gratefulness in the man's voice and it makes something inside of him brim with warmth. "Have a nice day and a 'Q Word' shift." Eddie grins amusedly at that. "Thanks, man. Bye."

tagging (no pressure): @buddierights @monsterrae1 @moonlightbuckleys @hoodie-buck @prettyboybuckley @heartshapedvows @rogerzsteven @forthewolves @rainbow-nerdss @giddyupbuck @hippolotamus @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @messyhairdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @maygrantgf @steadfastsaturnsrings @911onabc @housewifebuck @devirnis @dijkstraspath @thosetwofirefighters @ladydorian05 @911-on-abc @callaplums @exhuastedpigeon @pirrusstuff @disasterbuckdiaz and anyone else who wants to do it 💗

[maxmilian-koudelka]

As someone who at one point was a big fan of the podcast Díra, as of late I've felt uncomfortable with how the writers handle/portray certain topics. @holoubek made a post talking about their criticisms, and that's motivated me to make my own post as well (though probably not as well-written and detailed as theirs). And I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to start drama or send hate to the creators or anything, I just want to share my criticisms.

The first example of a topic that's not handled well (to the point where it's actively harmful) is the episode containing blackface. It's played for laughs, but personally I don't find it funny. It came across as super insensitive. There was literally no reason for that scene to be in there.

On a similar note, the episode where Lafka says the n-word because apparently "it's okay, because he became black in that episode" (it is not, in fact, ok). Again, there was no reason for that to be in there other than for the "comedy". That was a choice the creators made. And again, it felt really insensitive and ignorant at best.

As the post by holoubek mentions, there is also the fact the creators don't want to add trigger warnings. This genuinely confuses me. Why would you not add the warnings, when the listeners have shown that they would greatly appreciate that? The only valid reason I can think of is that they're worried about spoilers, but that's not really an issue. TW warnings are usually so vague they don't spoil anything, and even if they did, the mental health of the audience is way more important.

The creators did say that nothing is stopping the listeners from sharing the tw warnings amongst themselves. The issue with this, is that this requires someone to actually listen to the episode first to then warn others. Besides, not all of the podcast audience is part of the discord group, or others fandom spaces where the listeners may or may not share warnings amongst themselves.

However, an easy solution to this, is that the creators could just put them in the description so people who don't want to read them don't have to. Pretty sure someone in the discord group brought this up. Loads of podcasts do this, and it works!

There are other points to be made, for example the irresponsibly handled topics of sexual assault. The user holoubek talks about this as well, and I encourage you to read their post if you haven't already. I want to add to this that there's a scene somewhere where the main characters encourage a guy to kiss his crush, because at the time, they believe this is the only way to break out of a time loop they're stuck in. The problem here is that when the guy says that he needs to get the girl's consent to kiss her, the protagonists brush him off and get annoyed with him for prioritising consent over the time loop. This felt... iffy, to say the least.

I don't have the energy to delve any further into other topics, but I hope that this adds to the discussion in a meaningful way regardless. And once again I want to reiterate that I don't mean this as hate or as an attack to the creators or the fandom, these are just my personal reasons for why I no longer am a fan.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/royaltealovingkookiness/187489175766/i-think-the-anon-who-sent-the-zuko-lost-azula-in?source=share

Your thoughts?

(I'm only mentioning the ones I don't agree with)

"Oogling him when he's half-naked"

As a brazilian, this one was HILARIOUS to me. He just has his shirt off because it's summer and bending is a physical exercise and he's going to sweat. This isn't him dramatically taking his shirt off at The Beach and a ton of fangirls appearing to drool all over him. This isn't sexual.

She's literally watching him and AANG practice firebending. That's all. Why are we making it about attraction, and why are we assuming she could only possibly be looking at Zuko when Aang is there too? By that logic, Ozai and Aang were checking each other out during their fight in the finale, and so were Zhao and Zuko during their Agni Kai - after all, they're LOOKING at EACH OTHER when NEITHER OF THEM has a SHIRT on.

"Note Katara's body language"

Literally what about it? I legitimately don't understand this one. Touching her hair is somehow weird or flirty? It's just hair!

Is it because she's sitting next to Zuko? What, she's not allowed to be too close to a guy without it being suggestive/flirty in some way? Again, as a brazilian, I am VERY confused. Somebody help me out here.

"I don't think anyone could argue sibling vibes in a scene in which they are visibly disgusted at the thought of being mistaken for a couple"

What? Like, sure, I can see SOME siblings just laughing it off and correcting the person who made a mistake, but being grossed out is a 100% valid reaction.

As a girl that grew up being told "You saying you don't like this boy can ONLY mean that you secretly like him" and had to hear an unhinged woman call my 11-year-old self "her future daughter in law" just because I was friends with her son, I am BEGGING people to quit it with that bullshit. Being weirded out is not "admiting" there are feelings there. Stop it. Sometimes people are shy, sometimes they just genuinely don't like each other that way. Stop projecting.

(Also the only correct ways to do the mistaken for a couple thing is with the characters either just rolling with it "to avoid explaining" or to one of them to exaggerate on the awkwad denial and accidentally offend/upset the other, like it happened with Kataang in Cave Of Two Lovers)

"I don't remember any scene of Zuko or Katara fighting side by side with their sibling like they did with each other"

Also if we're talking side-by-side fighting stance that screams romantic symbolism, let's be fucking serious here. The dragons literally make a heart.

"You can only want to see embarrassing/cute baby pictures of your friend if you want to date them, and siblings totally don't use old childhood photos to annoying each other"

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Co-parenting"

Fuck off, they're children. Traumatized children. ALL of them. They've all done stupid shit, and they've all been exasperated by their friends' doing dumb shit. Found family doesn't mean we NEED one or more characters to play the "parent" role.

Katara actively resents the idea of being seen more as parent than as a friend, and Zuko JUST discovered the revolutionary concept of "Wait, a father burning his child's face is NOT normal????" Co-parenting my ass.

"Bed/bison sharing. Very unsibling like"

Katara literally shares the bed/Appa with Sokka during the entire Blue Spirit episode. And like this person pointed out themselves, the Gaang shares "a bed" and sleep next to each other all the time. Be thrilled that your OTP is having a moment that you could re-imagine as romantic, but let's not pretend any kind of intimacy MUST be sexual/romantic in nature.

"The scene of Katara comforting Zuko has parallels with his first scene with Mai at the start of the season"

This one was totally okay until the bullshit of "Mai's kiss and hug didn't help Zuko feel better at all and after this he shuts her out." During all of Nightmares And Daydreams we see him cuddling with her, Mai trying to cheer him up, and him even confessing his inner-turmoil about having to essentially put on an act to please Ozai.

She grew a lot as a character and Zuko didn't take her joke in that first episode to heart. He is doing the exact opposite of shutting her out, he actively turns to her for comfort.

"The physical distance between them shrunk"

Yes, and? Seriously, what about it? Is there a line missing here? Am I not seeing something? WHAT IS GOING ON?

"The lightning to the heart feels like a romantic scene"

I was gonna let it slide, like I was doing with all the others "This could work for a romantic relationship, but it's not inherently romantic", but that last line I just can't stand by. DRAMA IS NOT THE SAME AS ROMANCE.

"The simmilar scene for a canon ship doesn't have the same focus on the hands as this one does"

Hand-close ups are exclusive to married people, it is known *rolls eyes*

"It looks like they're about to kiss"

Bruh, what? Looking up at someone who is looking down at you is like leaning in for a kiss?

"Many of these scenes (not the ship-baiting ones obviously) could have been written, framed, animated in a purely platonic way, giving it more of a playful sibling vibe, but the creators deliberately chose overtly romantic or at least ambiguous tones"

[teddybeartoji]

CHALLENGERS (2024)

i've been racking my brain for quite some time now to come up with a way to really express how i feel about this film - and i think the best way to do it is just to say that it truly made me want to get into filmmaking. and that it made me feel so fucking alive. it felt like a different type of oxygen. like crack or something. this is obviously going to be a ramblepost so i apologize if it's super fucking messy. also big spoilers will come with a warning so don't worry abt that. i am going insane.

+ btw here's the trailer if u don't know anything abt this hehehehe

anywayy i've never sat through a WHOLE film with a smile on my face bc i was just so fucking excited. elated is a really good word here i think. all of the following thoughts and words are in fact coming from my lower tummy bc no other film has turned me on so much as this did. it's not about sex btw.

luca guadagnino understands. he really fucking does. this guy is everything i want to be. it's all about the intimacy and the closeness. the sweat. the colors. the eyes. the dialogue. the camerawork. the build-up. staging and blocking. lighting. it is about sex but not in the way that you think. forget about porn and smut and whatever the fuck you think sex is. it's about watching and observing. taking everything in. it's about your heartbeat. the warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach. a tightening knot. want and desire. anger. the rawness of it all. just the way things should be. forget about quickies and think about your best friend thinking about your lover. it's hot, right? it's about the rush. it's about sharing and not sharing. it's about greed and envy. think about sore muscles - how good they feel. think about flashing lights and thrumming bass in your ears. it's about music that makes you feel alive. it's about nudity, it's about power. humility and the absolute lack of it. it's about real humans, real people. eroticism. kissing. disgust. need. spit and saliva. tongues dancing together. muscles. skin on skin. laughter. love and something that's very akin to it but not quite the same. extreme close-ups and moments in slow motion, followed by fast-paced cuts and scenes. slapping. teasing and bickering. it's about everything i could possibly want in this fucking life and luca just handed it all to me on a silver platter.

i'm trying so hard to make this as coherent as possible lmao please bear with me i quite literally shed a couple of tears just from the overwhelming feeling this film gave me.

the casual intimacy is insane in this. one really specific thing made me absolutely lose it - there are TWO scenes where art spits out his gum into people's hands. the first is with tashi and the second time it's with patrick - both times they stand so close together that they're almost brushing against each other and they keep eye contact. there's zero disgust, there's no ew you just spit your gum into my hand. they ask for it. both times, patrick and tashi, hold out their palms for art to do it, and they do it without a word. no please or spit it out. i loved it so fucking much i wish i was better with words bc this genuinely had such a big effect on me. this type of intimacy is so important to me. it feels so real.

the dialogue was fucking great. i feel like the script is often where i might get The Ick bc i just hate when it's just so clear that it was written down without a second thought abt whether or not people actually talk like that (ok this actually might just be a problem with every single film my country makes but still). this felt good!!!!! they talk over people, they talk about small irrelevant things. they repeat what they said, they giggle, they laugh - again, it just felt so real and i loved it.

also. men in shorts. sweaty men in shorts. with shirts and without shirts. biceps. more sweat. muscles. we need more of that in life actually. i think men should wear shorter shorts and they should bend over more. ALSO MIDRIFF. SHIRTS RISING UP JUST A LITTLE, GIVING US A GLORIOUS PEEK OF WHAT'S UNDERNEATH. WHEN I TELL YOU THAT LUCA UNDERSTANDS I FUCKING MEAN THAT SHIT.

THE SOUNDTRAAAACKKKKKK RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHH EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS WE LOVE YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean it's obviously not a surprise that the score slaps so hard bc well... these guys have yet to make a bad score lmao. but this one is genuinely one of my favourite scores i think. super fast paced, exhilarating - it suits the film so fucking good holy shit. fuck it i'll give you a few songs:

challengers: match point + yeah 10x + pull over +

the cast was incredible. and also very hot. i think they were all so fucking perfect and i have literally zerooo complaints abt them i loved them so much. but if i had to pick a favourite performance... it's josh o'connor as patrick zweig. fuuuuckkkk, man. ok maybe i'm a bit biased here i do wanna kinda eat him buTTTTTTT HE'S AN AMAZING ACTOR OKAY. i loved his character soooooo fucking much and i think he did such a good job at portraying this little silly fucked up guy. the way he looks at art, the way he acts around art...

here are two crazy fucking examples for you the churro + the chair uhhhhhhh i am very unwell abt them actually what the fuuuuckkkkk

oke but yeah i just might be really down bad bc i really do love overly cocky assholes with beautiful big smiles okay don't judge me

THE VISUALSSSSS OH MY FUCKING GODD THE COLORSSS!!!!!!!! IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOO BRIGHT AND PRETTY AND FUN AND ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EVERYBODY CHEEERRSSS!!!!!!!!! it's such a big problem nowdays that all of the films are so fucking dark like bro where's the sun...... dark and just very dull you know??? and i hate it i hate it so much. this was great though. again - super birhgt and colorful, luca plays with the light like a god and he's really making me believe that the cinema is truly backk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they also mentioned spider-verse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i <3 luca fr

okay i think this covers most of it. i think. i have already decided that i'm gonna go and see it again next week so i'm sure that i'll be returning to this post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you can all feel my love for this wonderful piece of art and i hope that you all will go and watch it aswell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 ily thank you for reading<333333

[showtoonzfan]

I know it's been days since Exes and Oohs, but til this day, I'll never forgive how Viv handled that episode. Like, for fucks sake. The mf has an abusive father. He had a boyfriend who he couldn't even trust anymore, and for some odd fucking reason, there's suddenly dick and sex jokes in the middle of the emotional scenes. It's like this show can't go on without putting in the most unfunny jokes imaginable just to prove it's for adults, like, as fucking get it. Helluva Boss is for adults. No need to keep shoving dick jokes in our faces. We aren't stupid. On top of that, I'm honestly sick of whenever Moxxie is having a genuine and serious moment going on, it immediately cuts to the jokes. The audacity they had when sad music was playing and the sound of Blitz and Chaz were doing the hokey pokey in the bedroom never fails to piss me off. This show can take Stolas seriously. This show can take Blitzo seriously. But you can't even take Moxxie's abuse and situation seriously? What the fuck? Oh, but when you joke about Val raping Angel Dust, a rifle gets pointed to your head by fans who don't condone that shit. But you can make jokes about Moxxie and his literal abusive ass father. Yeah, ok.

Agreed. Ex’s and Ooh’s really made me realize that despite focusing on him from time to time, the writers do not give a shit about Moxxie, and he can never have his way without being the butt of a joke or picked on, even when it comes to his serious topics. I love talking about this episode because yeah, it really is a fascinatingly bad fucking one, like…on a writing standpoint I’d put this right next to The Circus. The ep also made me realize that the crew/writers do not give a shit about heavy topics like abuse, no matter how hard they try to act like they take these things seriously. It was obvious from the very beginning because they always saw Stolas’s sexual harassment as “quirky and funny”, as well as Chaz and Angel Dust cause talking about sex and sexually flirting is so funny and edgy guys‼️

But yeah, the crew don’t give a shit. They may act like they care about abuse/SA and then turn around and make merch of said abusive characters, make tasteless jokes on twitter, as well as laugh at any form of sex joke either way. They have small minded brains who think cock and dick is funny like har har laugh. They also can’t pick a side either like….feel bad for Stolas and be serious when HE gets abused as well as Angel, but then laugh at their sexual remarks towards other characters and laugh at Moxxie getting abused cause there’s dicks on the walls and owo laugh at Blitz and Chaz’s sex noises while Moxxie is in the middle of a breakdown we’re SO good at writing guys trust us we’re queer so we know automatically are good at writing and we know what we’re doing! We promise we’re not just horny people who share one brain cell, SAY OUR WRITING IS GOOD PLEASE AND IF YOU DON’T YOU’RE HOMOPHOBIC! 😯

[siriuslysatorusimping]

*Excerpt* Shattered Existence Deleted Scene (Another Level)

Hiiiiiiii 😊

I know I've been a lil MIA lately 🙃

Just been focusing on a few things other than writing for the first time in a while... But I wanted to share this deleted scene that I decided not to include because I felt it would have just served as needless filler 😬

Since we're already through it, I figured it'd be fun to share!

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 💕

And the installment this was deleted from, Shattered Existence

Shattered Existence Deleted Scene

“My precious students are watching, you know.”

Gojo’s laugh was deranged as he jutted his thumb toward the crows watching.

“My girlfriend, too!” he continued, his voice sounding delirious. “You hear that Megumi? Finally fuckin told her.”

“How sweet,” Sukuna laughed. “How does she feel knowing that you and her kid are beatin’ the shit outta each other?”

Her jaw clenched, her chest constricting with fury as Sukuna’s grin widened.

“And who’s gonna stop her from comin’ in here and getting herself killed when you die?”

“I’m not gonna die,” Gojo shot back confidently, grinning just as wide. “But at least I have someone who cares about me enough. What’ve you got? That monk? My girl could take ‘em easy.”

“I don’t give a shit about anyone else tagging in for me,” Sukuna replied, smirking now. “You rely on others, and that’s what makes humans weak. But you, you’re at least somewhat capable. Still nothing compared to me. Like I said, you were only the strongest because you were born at a time when I wasn’t around to put you in your place earlier. An ordinary guy.”

Gojo laughed. His genuine laugh that lit up his entire face and made his eyes brighter.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Maybe I am an ordinary guy. But I’m still gonna kill you.”

-

“Is time what’s necessary for adaption, or is it experience?” Yuuji asked, his eyes not leaving the screens as they debated Mahoraga’s adaption.

“You mean, does he take the time to analyze an attack after being hit and then adapt?” Kusakabe clarified, his hand on his chin. “Or does he adapt after being hit by the same attack multiple times, right?” Yuuji nodded, and Kusakabe tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, which is it?”

Their rambling was beginning to get on her nerves. The constant questions that were being thrown around, Kusakabe’s babbling about domain expansions.

He was, to an extent, right about most of what he said. But the problem was that even when he didn’t have answers, he was still fucking talking.

“Either could be possible,” Kashimo said. He had a wide grin on his face, excitement oozing off him in waves. “This is the fight I wanted to see-”

“It’s closer to the second,” Rinko stated absently, ignoring the confused looks she received. Her focus remained on the fight in front of her. “It’s volume. Not quite experience because experience still requires time. The complexity of the technique combined with the amount of cursed energy put into its use. The more energy used, the faster Mahoraga is able to adapt. So, if Gojo were to use more energy with Lapse Blue, then Mahoraga would likely gain more than one spin.”

It was why Gojo needed to finish Mahoraga in one hit. It couldn’t adapt if it was dead.