#Tension Netting System

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[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”�� you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

[sosa2imagines]

An Alley of Passion

Warning- Smut, Steve Rogers is a warning, sex in an alley, little bit of tearing of clothes, dominance.

Disclaimer- This is my submission for @mercurial-chuckles writing challenge, "Smutty September Fest" I hope everyone who reads likes it.

The plan was simple, enter the sophisticated nightclub, head to the back room, and collect the data.

But things rarely ever went according to plan. As soon as you and Steve entered the main floor of the club, the two of you were spotted by some goons.

You wore the expensive black halter dress, courtesy of Tony’s money. It was tight against your body, fitting perfectly against every dip and curve.

Steve, your partner on this mission, looked absolutely stunning in a tight black shirt and black pants. It hugged his body in all the right places and made his blue eyes stand out even more.

Despite the odds being against the two of you, you and Steve managed to fight off the goons and retrieved the data you came here for. However, just as you breathed a sigh of relief, more goons arrived, this time armed with deadly weapons, leaving you both cornered.

Steve grabs your hand and runs towards the exit. With the goons high on chase, Steve takes a turn towards an alley assuming it's empty.

However the two of you found yourselves in a surprising situation as you looked around. Instead of the empty, dark alley you'd expected, it was filled with couples. Some were engaged in deep conversation, others were whispering sweet nothings, and yet others were passionately making out.

Steve and you knew that the best way to avoid suspicion would be to blend in.

Steve leaned over and whispered against your ear, “Do you trust me?” You could hear the edge in his voice, the hint of urgency in his words. You nodded, looking into his eyes and hoping he had a plan to get you both out of this sticky situation.

In a swift and unexpected move, Steve pushed you against the wall. His body was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He then turned, placing his back facing the goons, effectively shielding you with his body, his hand slipping around your waist.

Steve's grip on your waist was firm, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. The steady rise and fall of his chest provided a sense of stability amidst the chaos.

Despite the dire situation, the sensation of being held so closely by him was electrifying, both comforting and thrilling at the same time as your heart pounded in your chest.

Time seemed to stretch out impossibly thin as the two of you stood there in silence. You could hear the goons continue their search nearby, their footsteps echoing through the alley, each sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making your heart rate quicken.

All the while, Steve stood close, his body acting as both a shield and a safety net, providing a sense of security in the midst of chaos.

As the silence continued, you swallowed, attempting to moisten your suddenly dry throat. The close intimacy of your shared space, with your body firmly against Steve's, added a new layer of intensity to the danger that surrounded you.

Every part of your being felt more alive than ever before, and as he shifted and tightened his grip on you, you felt a flutter deep within your stomach, a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Steve could feel the tension radiating from your body as you leaned slightly into him. He drew in a steady breath, attempting to calm himself. His own heart was beating erratically, and the realization of this took him by surprise.

It wasn't just the adrenaline from the situation that heightened his awareness, the proximity of your body to his had added a new layer of complexity. The protectiveness he was feeling towards you was no longer just professional; it had become deeply personal.

With the goons closing in, checking the couples around them, Steve knew he had to act fast. In a split second, his instincts kicked in, and he acted on impulse, pulling you closer and kissing you.

The action was abrupt, unexpected, but undeniably necessary to sell their cover. He could feel the soft surprise of your lips against his, the taste of your gasp, and the heat that suddenly emanated from your body.

The moment his lips met yours, a rush of heat and electricity surged through your body. Despite the shock of his impulsiveness, you found yourself responding, your body instinctively leaning into the kiss. The world around you faded as the warmth of his mouth against your own washed over you, making your head swim for a brief moment.

As Steve's lips pressed against yours, his body trapping you against the cold, rough wall, the action held a multitude of meanings. On one hand, it was a desperate measure to keep their cover, to blend in with the other couples in the alleyway. But on a more primal, subconscious level, it was also a release of the built-up tension he hadn't even been aware he'd been carrying until that very instant.

The battle between Steve's mind and body was palpable. His body responded in a way that he hadn't anticipated, his mind striving to catch up and make sense of the situation.

The kiss deepened, and he pressed you closer against the wall. While on some level, he knew it was a necessary part of the act to maintain the ruse, the way your body fitted against his, the taste and feel of you, felt intensely real, igniting a sense of awareness that he couldn't deny.

The goons finally moved on, leaving the narrow alley once again secluded. Steve slowly broke the kiss, his breath ragged and his voice a low rumble against your ear as he spoke. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The words were tinged with a hint of frustration and pent-up desire, suggesting that he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his taut muscles as he slowly backed up, allowing some space between the two of you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of protectiveness and frustration, his eyes burning into yours.

You mustered the courage to speak up, meeting his gaze with a hint of daring. “I don't regret it…” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of surprise flickered across Steve's face, replaced quickly with a look of desire that sent your heart racing. “Good.” he murmured in response. Before you could react, he closed the distance between you once again, claiming your lips in another heated kiss.

The kiss was hungry, filled with a raw need that caught you off guard. Steve's hands came up to cup your face, angling it to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth. You responded willingly, your bodies pressing closely together, both seeking and taking what the other offered.

The world faded away, the only point of focus being the heady sensation of Steve's mouth on yours. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, craving the contact. The kiss was primal, filled with an untamed passion that left you both momentarily breathless.

Steve's voice was a low, commanding growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “I. need. you. Now!” he emphasized, his words filled with an possessive intensity that sent heat pooling in your stomach. The need in his voice was undeniable, a demand that was impossible to resist.

You turned around, with your back pressed against his chest. Steve's hands roamed you body, as they slowly guided up your chest.

His palms perfectly cupped your breasts, feeling their weight, he kneaded them. An obscene moan escaped his lips.

Steve's hands were everywhere as he turns you around, rough and impatient, he began to tear the fabric of your dress, creating a perfect slit down the center. The sound of the material giving way was loud in the silence of the alley.

Steve's gaze roamed over the torn dress, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. “Much better,” he declared, his voice roughened with desire. “I'll buy you a new one.”

You could only shake your head in response, your mind too wrapped up in the haze of desire to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak.

In one swift motion, Steve's hands moved to your hips, lifting you up and bringing you against his body, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The action left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, heightening the sensation of his hard muscles pressed against your curves.

Steve's mouth claimed yours again, his kiss deep and urgent, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance of lust and need. His body moved against yours, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire within you. Your hips rocked slightly against his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

Steve's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, his fingers gripping the delicate material of your flimsy underwear. Your breath hitched in your throat as he began to tear the fabric in a one swift, possessive motion.

The thought of how much your torn panties had cost flickered through your mind, but as soon as Steve's teeth found your neck, at the sensitive spot that sent waves of pleasure through your body, any concern about the ruined garment vanished.

Your sharp intake of breath was both involuntary and a clear indication that you were entirely focused on the sensations Steve was stirring within you.

His teeth nipped at the skin softly before his tongue soothed the sting, his lips trailing down to your collarbone and sucking gently. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more, your body responding fiercely to his kisses and bites.

Steve's command, delivered in a low, urgent tone broke the silence between you. “Undo my pants, doll, set me free!” he ordered, his voice filled with a raw desire that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands trembled slightly as your fingers worked to undo his pants, your obedience a testament to the power he held over you in that moment.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the restraint he was exercising to keep himself in check. Finally, his pants fell open, giving you access to what you both craved. You could feel the heat of his hardness against your core.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body reacting instinctively to the contact. Steve's hips moved against yours, his hard length pressing against your sensitive pussy, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His mouth claimed yours again, his kiss now more desperate, urgent, mirroring the fire that was burning between the two of you.

Steve dipped his fingers inside you, to see if you are ready for him, before putting them in his mouth, making a show of sucking them making an obscene sound that made you crave him more.

“Steve please…” You moan, gently rolling your hips against him, the anticipation almost driving you over the edge. He pauses as his eyes move over you, drinking in the sight of you, his breathing is heavy. “You're so beautiful...” he says, sliding a hand up your thigh to your hip.

Steve kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, your pussy takes all of him in. His thick length stretches your walls.

“Yes...” escaped your lips, the word a mix of pleasure and relief.

His breath catches in his throat, at the feel of you wrapped around him. His hips soon found a suitable pace, as he starts to move against you slowly. “So tight and perfect...”

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, only the primal need to claim you entirely. Each thrust was a testament to his desire, a reminder of the pent up tension between the two of you.

Your bodies moved together in desperate harmony, desperate need driving each movement. The sound of skin against skin, the harsh pants and moans filling the air, created an intimate symphony that was a reflection of the intense connection.

Steve speeds up, making your breath hitch. He presses deeper and your nails slightly dig into his shoulders. “Steve...” you moan his name, as he hits deep in your cunt, making all your thoughts scatter.

“Look at me, doll,” Steve's command was punctuated with a powerful thrust, the words spoken between grunts and pants. He wanted your eyes on him, needed to see your reaction as he claimed you, his gaze burning into yours.

Each movement was a testament to his dominant presence, his desire to take control and possess you entirely. With each breath, the air grew hotter between the two of you, the connection both physical and emotional.

His grip on your hips tightened, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. In this moment, you were entirely his, your body responding to his every touch, your desire matching his own. The world outside faded away.

He watched intently, his gaze fixated on every flicker of pleasure that flitted across your face, his name becoming a mantra on your lips, a silent testament to the power he held over you.

He increased his pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. He was losing himself in the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch, the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips.

His mouth found yours, his lips hungry and demanding. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours in a frenzy of passion.

As he hit a spot deep inside you that made you cry out in pleasure. He smiled against your lips, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

He continued to move, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. He was lost in the sensations, consumed by the feel of you and the sound of your moans in his ears.

His movements were growing more erratic as his own desire threatened to overtake him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, but he forced himself to hold back, wanting to make you come first.

“Just let go, doll…” he whispers in your ear, his hips moving faster, his lips against yours. The words push you over the edge and you cry out his name, against his lips, as waves of pleasure wash over you.

You moaned into the kiss, as you came hard, Steve followed suit as he spent himself inside you. Filling you up to the brim. Catching his breath, he buried his face in your neck.

Steve gently set you down, his hands supporting your shaking legs until you were steady on your feet. Despite the intensity of the moment, his touch was tender, a stark contrast to the fierce need that had consumed him moments before.

As you stood there, trying to get your bearings, Steve smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Can you walk, doll?” He asked, his tone light but filled with a smug satisfaction.

“I...I think you were a little too rough...” you retorted, a playful pout on your lips as you tested your legs, finding them shaky and unreliable.

As you took a few tentative steps, you found your legs still weak and unstable. Before you could even react, Steve scooped you up in his arms with an ease that made your heart skip a beat.

“I know you can walk,” he said, his tone amused but affectionate. “But I'm not done with you yet, doll, and I want you to save your energy.”

You couldn't help but gasp as you saw the look in Steve's eyes. The intensity in his gaze, the fire that burned within him told you that this night had only just begun. A mix of anticipation and trepidation filled your heart, knowing that the night would be long and passionate.

Also dedicated to @rogerbarnesss @buckysdoll85 @caplanbuckybarnes

[xomakara]

Game On, Love

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | Yunho's a gamer and so are you. In fact, you're both so good at it, you reach top rankings in international competitions, and that's how you notice each other. But romance is more than a game—or is it?

PAIRING | Yunho x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | gamer!Yunho, gamerl!Reader, smut (with some plot), literally just pure unadulterated filthy smut, consensual sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (little one, etc), praise kink

RATING | Mature, Explicit, 18+, NSFW, MDNI

LENGTH | 4.642 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @cromernet (reuploaded so only tagging nets that haven't reblogged it yet)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi, hello~ 👋 thanks @yessa-vie and @yourlocaljonghoe for beta reading this (and loving it 💚). Love you much and I hope you all like it! Comment, like, reblog, anything would be greatly appreciated~

As the weekend sun streams through your window, you wake up with a sense of warmth and anticipation. Today marks the beginning of the international gaming competition you've been eagerly preparing for. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, you get out of bed and head to the kitchen to brew your morning coffee. The rich aroma of the brewing coffee fills the air, wrapping you in a sense of comfort and steadying your nerves as you take your first sip.

You've got your coffee in hand as you sit at your computer desk. The soft padding of your gaming chair provides comfort as you boot up your system. As you log into the tournament, you feel your heart rate quicken as the reality of the competition sinks in. Players from every corner of the globe gather in this virtual arena, all eager to showcase their talent and claim the top prize. But you're confident. You've dedicated yourself to this, honing your skills daily, and now it's time to let your talent shine.

The early rounds pass in a blur of concentration and precision. You move through them with ease, your strategies paying off as you adapt to the playstyle of each new opponent. As you progress, a name starts to stand out: Yunho. He's a fellow competitor from your region, and you can't help but notice his impressive performance. Curious, you decide to observe one of his matches.

Yunho, with his striking appearance and intense focus on the camera, effortlessly defeats his opponents with his skill. Although his confidence may come across as arrogant, it's this very quality that captivates you. His movements are smooth and captivating, drawing you in. Before you realize it, you find yourself seeking out his matches, eager to witness more of his undeniable talent.

As you advance in the tournament, the online community buzzes with speculation about a potential showdown and the rivalry between you and Yunho. Little do they know that your interest in Yunho goes beyond his gaming skills.

Intrigued, you decide to do some digging. You learn that Yunho is a force to be reckoned with. With his dark hair and piercing dark eyes, he exudes an air of mystery. Blessed with height and a toned build, he certainly stands out. There's an intensity to him, a fiery focus that translates into lightning-fast reflexes, and a strategic mind that predicts his opponents' every move. But it's the contrast between his confident gaming persona and his unknown real-life self that fascinates you the most.

Then, finally, your paths collide. It's the semi-final round, and the anticipation is palpable. You and Yunho are pitted against each other in a best-of-three series, and the winner will secure a spot in the grand finals.

In the first game, the tension is high as you both adapt to each other's strategies. Your persistence pays off as you ultimately clinch the first game, taking the lead. During the break before the second game, you feel a sense of respect for your opponent and look forward to continuing the competition.

"Great game," Yunho types in the chat, his avatar giving a casual nod. "Let's see if you can keep up that level of play."

There's a hint of teasing in his words, challenging you to rise to the occasion once more.

You stretch your arms over your head, fingers laced, feeling the satisfying pop of your spine as you reply, "Just enjoying the warm-up. I'm ready for more."

You emphasize the last word, knowing full well that this friendly rivalry is sparking something special.

"Good. Let's get back in the game," he says, his avatar nodding once more before returning to his seat.

The match resumes, and the two of you continue your battle for dominance. Yunho brings his A-game, demonstrating why he's earned his place among the tournament's elite. He evens the series, claiming the second game as his own and setting the stage for an epic conclusion. As the third game loads, you take a moment to gather yourself. This is it—the moment that could decide your fate in this tournament. You steel your resolve, determined to leave it all on the digital battlefield. The game becomes a fierce battle of wits and endurance, with both of you refusing to yield. The match stretches into overtime, each of you landing blows, but neither willing to concede defeat.

At some point, your motivation changes. It's no longer just about winning; it's about impressing this mysterious opponent who has gained your attention and respect. You want to show Yunho that you are a formidable presence both in and out of the game.

And impress him, you do. In a stunning upset, you manage to eke out the victory, claiming the third game and the series.

"Congratulations," Yunho types. "I guess I'll see you in the finals."

He's not bitter or angry, and the sincerity of his message warms your heart.

"Thanks, and yes, you will. See you there." You return his message with a smile.

Elation courses through you, but there's a hint of disappointment as your encounters with Yunho come to an end. Throughout the semifinals, you've become accustomed to the thrilling rivalry and the unspoken connection you shared.

As you advance to the final round, your thoughts drift back to Yunho. He was a formidable opponent, one who challenged and inspired you, and you can't help but feel the absence of his presence. Perhaps if you meet him again...

Your daydream about a possible encounter is interrupted by the buzz of your phone. Glancing at the screen, you see a notification from the tournament. It's an invitation from Yunho for a private voice call. You accept, feeling excited and curious about why he's reaching out. The call connects, and a deep voice comes through the speakers.

"Hello, stranger," his voice was smooth and playful. The sound sent a shiver down your spine. "Congratulations on making it to the finals."

"Thanks," you replied, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in your voice. "I'm surprised you reached out. Aren't you afraid of the competition getting into your head?" You teased, unable to resist poking fun at him.

He chuckles with a deep, melodious sound that causes your heart to flutter. "I'm up for a little friendly competition," he says.

You pause for a moment, carefully weighing your next words. "Well, maybe we can spar off-camera then," you suggest, hoping he picks up on the hint of flirtation in your tone.

"I'd like that," he said sincerely. The promise of an intimate encounter sent a rush of heat through you. You made plans to meet up after the final match, feeling anticipation building at the prospect of getting to know him better.

As the conversation comes to a natural end and the call disconnects, you can't help but smile. Yunho has captured your attention, and you can't wait to see where things go.

The grand finals are a whirlwind of cutthroat competition and tactical maneuvers. Driven by your ambition to secure the top spot, you bring your absolute best to every match. It's a battle for the ages, and in the end, your determination pays off. You're crowned the champion, and the elation is almost enough to drown out the bittersweet realization that your encounter with Yunho has come to an end.

Almost.

But there's a silver lining: you and Yunho have decided to meet in person.

When the day comes, you're feeling very nervous. What will it be like to finally meet the person you've been chatting with? You've seen what they look like on camera. You try to stay calm as you wait, but the suspense is almost unbearable.

Finally, you see him approaching. He is tall and you knew he was handsome because you talked to him virtually. You can't help but notice his long fingers as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt, the movement revealing a glimpse of his muscled forearms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you in person," he says, his voice as smooth and inviting as you remember. "I knew you were pretty on camera, but you're even more beautiful in person."

"You too." You're thankful for your steady voice, even as your heart races at his proximity.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about you a lot since the tournament," he admits. "I'm glad we finally have a chance to meet."

Your cheeks flush at his admission, and you can't help but reciprocate the sentiment. "Me too," you say, your gaze never leaving his.

The tension between you is electric, and as the conversation flows easily, it's clear there's something special between you.

"Can I take you to dinner?" he asks, his hand reaching for yours, and the touch is enough to send a jolt of desire through you.

"Yes," you say, knowing there's no turning back. You're already committed.

Dinner is a blur of delicious food, intriguing conversation, and a growing sense of intimacy. Yunho's charming, and you can't stop stealing glances at him as you eat. With each moment spent in his company, you feel closer to him, drawn to his magnetic personality and effortless confidence.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Yunho says, leaning forward, his eyes intense. "What do you like? What turns you on?"

"Hmmm..." You took a sip of your drink. "Why do you want to know?"

His lips curve into a sinful grin as he slides an arm along the back of your chair, his body angled toward you. "Call it...curiosity."

You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating through you, and heat pulses in your veins. You've never been so forward, but there's something about Yunho that makes you want to be honest.

"Well," you begin, your voice soft. "I like whispers, gentle touches. But I also enjoy a little roughness. It's a contrast, I guess. I like to feel desired."

A slow, sexy smile spreads across Yunho's face, and he leans closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I think I can help you with that. I love a woman who knows what she wants. And I have a feeling you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself getting wet. You take a bold step forward, reaching out to trace his strong jawline with your fingertips.

"What about you?" you ask, looking into his dark eyes. "What do you like?"

Yunho looks down at you, a teasing gleam in his gaze. "That's a dangerous question, little one."

You arch a brow, challenging him. "Don't tell me you're afraid."

His lips tilt up into a crooked smile, the dimples in his cheeks flashing. "Hardly," he murmurs, his voice a silky purr.

You feel a spark of delight at his words, and the confidence in his voice ignites a fresh surge of arousal through your body. The air between you crackles, and you let your gaze run down his body, admiring the lean muscles hidden beneath his tailored clothes. He's everything you imagined and more, and you want nothing more than to take him home and explore all his hidden talents.

"All right, little one, challenge accepted," he murmurs. A shiver of excitement races down your spine. "How about we have a game of our own, just the two of us?"

His gaze burns through you, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from his. The atmosphere is tense with arousal and promise, and all you want is a chance to discover just how good you both might be at playing together.

"You're on," you reply with a sexy smirk. Your body's trembling in anticipation. The raw, sexual attraction is there. Now, it's a question of who's going to initiate it. You'll bet it's going to be him.

The dinner is done and so is the playful flirting. But the night's still young. You want to let the real you play. That is if he's able and willing to rise to the occasion. The arousal pumping through your veins gives you the boldness you need to slide your foot along the taut length of his thigh. And with a smoldering stare, you ask him, "Should we play at my place or yours?"

Yunho responds by laying his card on the table and signaling to the waiter. You're only too happy to pay as the two of you leave the restaurant to continue this little adventure elsewhere. The destination? Well, it doesn't matter. You only care about the journey. And if the sexual tension is this electrifying on the short ride home, then you're eager for what's to come.

The cab seems to take forever to reach Yunho's apartment, but finally, you're stepping inside, the door clicking shut behind you. You waste no time, turning to face him and pressing your body against his. You feel his desire for you, hard and insistent, and it fuels your own need.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and your lips find him in a hungry kiss. You taste the beer he was drinking earlier, and you moan into his mouth, wanting more. His tongue tangles with yours, and his hands move lower, cupping your ass and lifting you slightly so you can feel just how much he wants you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air. He takes the opportunity to trail kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and onto the sensitive skin of your collarbone. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he whispers, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Then don't hold back," you plead, arching your neck to give him better access. "Take what you want."

With a growl, he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you towards the bedroom. The slight roughness of his actions sends a thrill through you, and you tighten your legs around him, pulling him closer.

He kicks the bedroom door closed with his foot and lays you gently on the bed, his eyes burning with desire as he looks down at you. Slowly, he begins to undress you, kissing and caressing every bit of skin he reveals. He takes his time, teasing you with soft touches and gentle whispers, contrasting it with the rough hunger in his eyes.

You can't take it anymore; you need to feel him. You tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and running your hands over his toned chest. He leans down to capture your lips again. It sends a wave of desire coursing through you, and you pull him closer, needing to feel his weight on you.

His hands are in your hair, holding you still as he dominates the kiss. He leaves no part of your mouth unclaimed, exploring every inch with his lips and tongue. He pulls back slightly and meets your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to make you come undone, make you lose yourself in pleasure," he whispers, and you whimper in response.

He leans down, his lips tracing a path across your collarbone to your shoulder. Your hands clench on his biceps, feeling the solid muscle under his skin. His fingers caressed your skin, finding all the secret places that make you gasp. "You're so perfect," he whispers.

Yunho looks down at you as his finger trails down to your navel. The suddenness of his movement causes a gasp. A subtle smirk forms across Yunho's gorgeous face, but then the next moment, you feel his fingers trailing lower and lower as they reach the juncture of your thighs.

"Please..." You let out a groan when his finger is almost hovering over your clit.

You want his mouth on yours; his hands, his body, his breath, his everything. You crave his attention—not only during the daytime but also during the night. But you don't know if he wants the same; if this is just a game for him like all the other tournaments or something more... You know he enjoys the challenges you bring, and you do too.

Your breath stutters. The sensation of his finger resting there is enough to send jolts of pleasure running through you, and yet he hasn't even made proper contact.

"Look how wet you are for me," he whispers, his voice sending another ripple of pleasure through you. "I love hearing the way I affect you, the way you gasp and moan for me."

His finger made contact with you, and your entire body shuddered from the contact.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, his thumb stroking slow, torturous circles around your clit. "Want my fingers inside you, making you come apart for me?" He slips one long digit inside you, and you arch your back at the sensation.

You bite your lip hard. It feels so good, so damn right, but the sensations aren't quite enough to push you over the edge.

"Not enough, am I?" He teases, pumping in and out of you with his finger, and you can't suppress the whimper that escapes.

"More," you plead.

"Beg for it," he says, his gaze never leaving yours.

You open your mouth to retort, and he quickly slips in another finger, plunging deeper inside you and forcing all coherent thoughts from your mind.

"Yes," you groan, shamelessly grinding against his fingers. "Fuck Yunho. Your fingers—god—you know exactly what I want, exactly what I need."

Your words spur him on, he adds a third finger and curls them perfectly, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. God, you knew his fingers were good. Knew that all the hours of playing games would mean he was damn near skilled at playing your body.

But you want more. So. Much. More.

"Please," you gasp, grabbing at his arms, and feeling the hard muscle beneath his smooth skin.

"Begging already? Such a good girl." He leans in close, his lips ghosting over yours as his fingers pump in and out of you with a relentless, steady rhythm that's sending sparks shooting down your spine.

"For someone who won the tournament...it looks like you're losing this game right now. Any last words before I claim my prize?" He taunts, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

Before the tournament, you didn't even know each other, but after many games against each other, and countless interactions after every victory, you learned some things about Yunho and he, too, became interested in you.

"If you want a prize, all you have to do is ask," you say. "I mean you did make it to the semi-finals."

He laughs softly, the sound rumbling through you, his fingers continuing their steady pace, not once relenting the intensity.

"A consolation prize, then," he murmurs, bringing his lips back to brush against the soft shell of your ear. His free hand moves to grasp your hip, holding you firmly in place while he increases the speed of his fingers, his thumb never missing a beat on your clit.

It's too much. You cry out, clutching his shoulders and pulling him closer, desperate to feel him, all of him, against your body.

"Come for me, little one," he commands, his lips finding your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Come all over my fingers and show me how much you like losing to me."

His words send you spiraling over the edge. You clench around his fingers, his thumb keeping up a maddening pressure on your clit. Pleasure flows through you, rolling over you in waves and drowning your senses until you're a panting, blissful mess.

Yunho removes his hand and slowly licks your juices off, one finger at a time. Fuck. He's a total show-off, but you can't help watching. After all, he's a gamer in a broad sense; that skill carries to the bedroom.

When he finishes cleaning off his fingers, he leans down and licks your dripping folds. You flinch a little, overly sensitive, but he grips your hips tight and doesn't let you move away.

"So fucking sweet," he says against your slick center, his gaze fixed on your face. You groan, heat rushing to your cheeks. The attention makes you feel vulnerable, and exposed, but also hot as hell.

Your toes dig into the mattress and your back arches. When he drags his tongue up to tease your clit, your hands instinctively reach out to bury your fingers in his hair. Your grip is tight, but he doesn't seem to mind. He presses harder against you, pushing his tongue inside, before swirling around your entrance.

You're a mess. You're close. Again. This man knows what he's doing. He keeps at it with that talented tongue, sucking and nibbling your flesh until you're trembling, right on the edge. "Fuck, Yunho! Please..."

His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, a sensation that echoes throughout your core. His hands trail down your sides, feather-light and teasing, until his palms finally rest on your outer thighs. The weight is comforting, the contact enough to ground you as your pleasure threatens to drag you away.

Yunho pulls back and rests his chin between your thighs. He looks so fucking gorgeous, you don't know whether to strangle him or beg him to stay between your legs forever. You meet his gaze, your lips swollen and red from the kisses and nips he gave you.

"Play with me, Y/N," he murmurs. The playful tone sends sparks flying through your nerves.

"Game start," you whisper, a grin stretching your lips.

"Last chance to walk away," he warns. He doesn't need to threaten. There was no chance you'd give this up. Not now, not after everything you went through.

"Shut up and fuck me, loser." You laugh.

That's all the incentive he needed. Yunho's lips pressed against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, the musky sweetness making your toes curl and heat pool low in your belly. You pulled away with a laugh, staring at him through glazed eyes.

"Can't say I'm not eager." His laughter was like music. "Now, spread those pretty thighs of yours. Let me see how ready you are for this gamer to win this game. Ain't no way I'm losing to you again."

His words heated your core as he began to grind against your entrance. You groaned at the friction. He felt so goddamn good against you, his hardness dragging against your clit and coating the length of him in your essence. It was getting harder and harder to think, especially with him looking at you with his lust-filled eyes, knowing the effect he was having on you.

"Fuck, you feel good." Yunho closed his eyes, sliding into your pussy without warning. You clenched around him, whimpering as he stretched you perfectly. He let out a sharp groan, rocking his hips slowly against yours. "Always knew we'd be good together like this."

"Didn't think…fuck…that we'd get here," you gasped out, pressing yourself against his thick length and enjoying the way his thrusts rubbed against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. "Fuck, you're so big, Yunho. Gonna fucking fill me with that fat cock and claim your prize."

"Going to fucking cream yourself all over me. And then I'm going to pin you down and do it all again." His words made you tighten around him, dragging another groan from his mouth as you squeezed his cock.

Yunho shifted his grip on your hips and moved to pin your hands above your head. "Gonna claim that tight little pussy. Every inch of me is going to be imprinted in your memory. So get ready, my little gamer."

You could barely form the words to retort as he pounded into you. The sounds of your lovemaking filled the room, the two of you working in sync to bring yourselves to the brink of orgasm. You were close, so close to release. Just a few more hard thrusts, and then—

His thrusts slowed down, and the change was nearly enough to drive you crazy. 

"Stop fucking teasing," you whined.

"Game's not done," he answered, nipping at your jaw. "How many rounds are we playing tonight, my little gamer?"

"A lot. Fuck, a lot." The pleasure coursing through you is unlike any gaming session you've had, and you can't get enough.

He fucks like a god, his hips snapping with precision and his mouth on every inch of you he can get his hands on. When he groans out a particularly loud moan, you know he's getting close.

"That's right," he gasps. "Keep on squeezing, little one. Can't wait to feel this perfect cunt wrapped around my cock as you scream my name, soaking the both of us."

"Don't... stop," you breathe. It's just too fucking good. You're writhing and shuddering beneath him, chasing your orgasm and determined to keep going until he's spent.

"Never gonna fucking stop." He grabs your ass and rocks you forward, the motion nudging his length to rub against your g-spot. The pleasure intensifies and it's all you can do not to scream at him to keep fucking you, hard and fast. You claw at his shoulders and clench around him, wanting to milk every last drop of cum out of that huge cock he's buried deep inside you.

It's all the incentive he needs. Yunho moans and kisses your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, and then finally, his mouth is on yours, capturing your tongue and teasing the soft flesh there. His thrusts are quick, forceful, and utterly breathtaking. You don't ever want him to stop.

"God, fuck, Yunho." You bury your face into the crook of his neck, teeth sinking in and scraping at his flesh. He lets out a shuddering groan, his hold on your ass tightening as he pins you to the mattress and continues his brutal assault on your body.

"C'mon, cum all over my cock. Let me feel you," he groans, his teeth pressing into the skin on your neck. "Can you do it, little one? Can you cream that pretty little pussy on my dick?"

You whimper and cling tighter to him. "Fuck... Yunho, I'm—"

He cuts you off before you can finish.

"That's it, Y/N..." he purrs, pressing a kiss to your neck and holding you tighter. "You're gonna be dripping for days after we're finished tonight... and that's only the start. We've got plenty more rounds planned, remember? Make sure to come nice and loud for me, okay?" 

With a loud gasp, you throw your head back and cry his name. "Yunho!"

Your fingers scrabble against his back as he buries his length deep, your entire body wracked with tremors. He moans into your neck and whispers his encouragements as you spasm around his throbbing cock, cum running down the insides of your thighs and soaking the sheets. He doesn't let up, grinding his dick against your cervix and sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as you continue your rapturous embrace. 

As you float down from your post-orgasm haze, you can only repeat one thing, "Yunho..."

He kisses you once more, smiling against your lips and panting slightly. "How does my little champion feel?"

"Like a fucking winner," you tell him. "Is this what first place feels like? 'Cuz shit... I could get used to this."

"Round two's starting soon," Yunho growls, pumping into you again, his cock hard once more. "Think you can take it, little one?"

You hold back a smirk as you pull him down for a long kiss. You don't mind giving in, just this once if you're going to get some mind-blowing rewards. Besides, the first-place spot is yours for the taking, and that includes this sexy gamer, Yunho.

Game on.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were roommates (Part 10)

A/N : God... part 10 already! i am so so scared to post this chapter i'm torn to be in between this is good and this is trash so... be merciful!

Warnings: VIOLENCE! BLOOD! GRAPHIC !

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The realization kept spinning in your brain. He was darkends. He had been so close to you from the beginning. Fuck he knew you before you started working on the damn mission! 

"I… Don't understand… you moved in before I started working on this…" you questioned. 

He sent you a look in the rear view mirror. 

"Correct. The mission had started before they asked you to join. I was supposed to simply make sure they were failing. Infiltrating the base, keeping undercover, ruining your search and probably send you on a wrong path." He explained. 

You watched through the car window, trying to figure out where he was taking you. 

While you started thinking about some way to escape, your mind quickly stopped on your connected watch. 

"But then I met you. Such a pretty girl." 

The praise made you nauseous. He watched the road as you started preparing your move on your watch. 

"You started working on the mission and fuck" he chuckled. "You became even more interesting!" He cheered. 

You kept clicking on your watch, sending your location to your contacts. All of them because you weren't exactly paying attention. 

While you were working on your laptop in the hideout, while you kept passing over and over the events that almost got you killed, you had decided to prepare a little safety net. You hacked your connected watch, creating a locking system that would send your live location to contacts of choice. You thanked your past self. 

"You were so bright, so smart, you managed to fully counter my attacks or find every little thing I tried to hide. Your mind… fascinated me." He kept obsessing. 

You could have been flattered if this wasn't said by a psychopath stalker trying to kidnap you. You were loosening the strap of your watch taking it off. You let it fall on the floor making sure to hide the small watch in your pocket. 

"So you decided to try to kill me ?! That makes no fucking sense Peter! If that's even your real name!" You raged. Fuck your throat right now. 

"Oh it is. It's not Hansen though. I didn't try to kill you. You were so sad when I met you… remember?" He spoke in an angrier tone. 

You were trying to figure something out, some way to escape even if you had to jump out of the car. 

"Because of that dickhead." 

"Don't call him that!" You yelled. 

"Shut up!" He roared. 

You were taken aback. It was the first time he actually yelled at you.

"That fucking asshole left you broken. And then he comes back and you let yourself be manipulated by him! You were meant to be fucking MINE." 

You felt your skin crawl. He was turning completely mad. And you were feeling the panic grow. 

"You and me…. Can you think about it? How we'd be the most powerful couple ever? We'd be Bonnie and Clyde…" 

"They fucking died…" you noted. 

"Such a smart mouth. You're lucky I also like that about you." He threatened. 

You bit your lip. Now wasn't the moment to be a smart ass. 

"So yeah. I got jealous. I thought maybe I could make you realize he wouldn't keep you safe. And then I'd propose to be your bodyguard and you know, make you fall for me… make you realize how good we'd be together." He kept explaining. 

You were finally understanding where he was headed. To one of the bases exit. He was trying to take you out of the base. 

"You won't be able to take me far. Even if you leave the base." You said. 

"Don't worry. I have friends waiting for us." He smirked. 

You swallowed hard. 

"What are you going to do with me…" that scary question was the only thing in your mind now. 

"That'll depend on you." 

The way he said it scared you horribly. It was terrifying. 

The tension was broken by your phone ringing. Price was calling you. 

"Go on birdie. Answer. Put it on speakerphone and give. It."

You obeyed, although unwillingly. 

"Sparrow, where are you?!" 

He sent a look in the rearview mirror for you to answer. 

"I'm in the car with Hansen." 

"Are you alright?! We found Soap." 

"Is he alright?!" You worried immediately. 

"He's ok. He said Hansen injected him with something." 

"What?! What the fuck did you do! You said you didn't hurt him!" You yelled, making Price aware of the listener. 

"I didn't. I simply tranquilized him. He took a nap." He laughed. 

"Hansen. What's going on?!" Laswell roared. 

"I'm simply taking what belongs to me." He spoke matter of factly. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"My birdie." 

Silence fell on the call. You knew she had understood. She knew the truth. 

"You won't be able to leave this base, I can assure you that." She said. 

"Ah don't worry. I'll manage. Where's the other disguised idiot? Hand him over. I want to speak to him." 

You closed your eyes. No. This was going to be horrible. You were absolutely shocked to hear Price laugh. You opened your eyes wide, a look of confusion on your face. 

"He's already gone. He got in his Jeep and is hunting you down." 

You saw Peter visibly pale. 

"He doesn't even know who you really are. You hurt his friend. You stole his bunny. You're already fucking dead." 

Peter grabbed the phone in a fury, opening his window and throwing it out. You gasped out loud. 

"Hey!" You scolded. 

"Don't try me!" He threatened again. 

You were getting dangerously close to the exit. You couldn't let him bring you out of base. You couldn't.  The idea of jumping out of the car finally settled in your mind when a glimpse of a vehicle to the left made your head turn. You had very little time to process what was happening when the impact made your seatbelt block. A military car had driven right into the car you were in at full speed, aiming for the driver's seat. 

Both cars were now at a stop, your head ringing. You were hyperventilating, now watching Gaz and Konig stepping out of the car and aiming their guns at Peter. He immediately made the car roar, trying to drive away when a second impact made you shake again. You yelled this time. Peter's car was stuck in between two big ones. You had to get out now, you had to make a run for it. 

Your blood ran cold when you saw Peter reach for his own gun. No nononoo.. FUCK. 

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!" Soap's voice roared. 

Soap… fuck. They were here. They were here. 

You pushed the seatbelt, finally freeing yourself and opening the car door. 

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE BITCH!" Peter Screamed. 

Konig appeared in a flash, grabbing Peter's shirt through the window, taking his attention from you. In another flash a black shadow passed over the hood of the car pushing Konig away and throwing the driver's side door open. 

"Simon!" You let out in between a yelp and a whine. 

He wasn't listening. He had a knife in his hand. He cut through the seatbelt like butter. He grabbed Peter's gun, throwing it somewhere on the ground. He very roughly pulled Peter out. 

You were frozen in place. Your mind was trying to process what was happening. Everything was happening so fast… Your car door opened, making you jump. 

"Y/N!" 

You cried. You let out a broken exhale and you cried. 

"Johnny…" 

"You're ok! You're ok! We're here!" He smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you out. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He was ok. He was fine. God, you felt so guilty. He got hurt because of you. If he had been killed-

"I'm ok! I'm ok… breathe. We need to get you out of here!" He soothed. 

"It's darkends!" You let out loud in between cries. 

He froze. He immediately turned to the rest of the team, catching Gaz's eyes as he wasn't too far. 

"HE'S THE HACKER!" Gaz repeated in a yell.

You looked at Ghost who had Peter pinned against the car, arms behind his back. As soon as it clicked in his brain, he threw Peter to the ground and jumped on him. Your eyes widened. 

You pushed by Soap, surprising him enough to give you a chance to run around the car to keep the fighting men into view. 

"Y/N NO!" You heard him reprimand.

You froze at the sight, Ghost was on top of Peter repeatedly punching him in the face, blood coating his hand. 

Soap caught you as Ghost reached for his firearm, pointing it at Peter's head. It took a second. No hesitation.

"DON'T LOO-" 

The gunshot made you jump. Soap's voice lost in the sound. Your ears ringing. 

It's funny how your brain fixates on the little things during shocking moments. For you it was the little splashes of blood on his mask. You could see them as Simon noticed you, wide eyed. 

That's all you could take in before Soap made you forcefully turn around. 

"BLOODY HELL Y/N" he screamed worriedly.

You tried to catch your breath. More cars came rushing. You could hear Price and Laswell's voices. It was over. He was gone. Darkends… Peter. He was dead. Your were safe. You were shocked. And what terrified you wasn't the fact that Simon just executed him in front of you. He clearly didn't mean to show you such a horrible thing. You knew it. He had tried to shield you from the sight by pushing Peter to the ground. No. What terrified you was how grateful you were that he did it. That he killed him. 

The thought was horrible. But Peter was dead. And you were glad he was. Because that man, who helped human traffickers, drug dealers and other horrible people, had used people to get to you, had tried to kill you and kidnapped you. 

"Hey hey hey!" 

You blinked, finally falling back into reality. Kate was looking at you, features torn in worry. Her hands on your cheeks. You took a deep breath. 

"Are you alright?!" 

You nodded. 

"I… I'm fine. It's… over" you stumbled over your words. 

She held you, her arms now wrapping around your shoulders. Price was behind her, talking to Soap. You could clearly understand Soap explaining how you had witnessed Ghost kill Peter. The shock in Ghost's eyes flashed in your mind. No! Fuck! 

You couldn't be sure but he was probably feeling horrible having done that in front of you. He probably thought you hated him, that you thought horribly of him. 

You pushed Kate off of you. 

"Simon…" you called. 

"Y/N-" she tried.

"I want Simon!" Your voice broke as another cry escaped your lips. 

You needed him. You fucking needed him. You wanted him to hold you. And never fucking let you go. You felt vulnerable. The whole situation, the whole fallback of emotions made you want to be wrapped into his arms.

"Y/N." Price approached. "Not now. You need to leave this place." 

You were going to interrupt him. But he kept trying to reason you. 

"He needs to calm down-" 

"No!" You screamed, you've never heard this desperation in your voice before.

Soap looked divided. But as he looked at you, the way you were begging him through your gaze, he made up his mind. 

"LT!" He called. 

Price and Laswell turned to him furious. 

Your breath quickened. You weren't leaving without him. Fuck. You'd leave with him.

Price turned back to face you this time looking behind you. 

"Simon-" he started. 

But too late you had already turned around. Fucking hell. He looked absolutely nightmarish. His full black tactical clothes, his skull mask bloodied. His black hood casting a shadow on it. Even like that you could see pupils blown out. 

You must be insane. You must have gone completely mad. Because all you could see was his eyes. All you could notice was how hard he was breathing, how his shoulders were incredibly tense. 

Yes. Everyone must have thought you had gone completely insane. Because you ran to him, wrapping your arms around his waist burying your face in his chest. It took him a second before wrapping his arms around you. 

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… fuck… I'm sorry…" he chanted repeatedly. 

He held you tightly. You could hear Laswell and Price barking orders. But you blocked it out. You needed this. You needed to be in his arms. He saved you again. He rushed to come to you. 

"I'm sorry…" he let out again. 

"Simon" 

He stopped, looking at you directly, awaiting orders. As if your every word was a command. 

"Take me away…Please... Take me out of here…" You asked. 

He didn't hesitate. He held your hand, pulling you with him towards Price. 

"Price!" He roared, capturing the man's attention. "I'm taking her out of here!" 

He nodded, throwing him his keys. 

"Take her to the hideout!" Price ordered. 

You would have preferred to go home but your home had been trashed… it wasn't the best idea.

He held your hand as he pulled you to the passenger seat, making sure to block your view of the mess behind him. 

"Close your eyes…" he ordered softly. 

"But-"

"Please. Fuck. Bunny, please." He pleaded. 

So you did. You closed your eyes. You heard the car door open. You trusted him as led you in, sitting you and buckling you up. You kept your eyes closed as he closed the door and until his opened. Even then and until you were rolling away, you kept them closed. 

"You can open them now…" he softly let out. 

You batted your eyes, adjusting back to the light. You turned to him. His grip on the steering wheel was rough. 

"Simon…" you called. 

He flinched but didn't look at you. He was clearly speeding. Very clearly. 

"Simon!" You whined. 

"We're almost there. Please." 

You took a deep breath, Falling silent. 

"You did good…" 

You almost thought you imagined it. 

"I.. did?" You asked. 

"Yes. You did so good. Sending me your location. Being brave. You did good." 

The praise was oddly comforting. 

You had managed to arrive at the hideout in a crazy time frame. You both walked out. You were slightly calmer even if your heart still played drums in your chest. You walked to the front door, two soldiers standing in front of it. You walked in, Ghost behind you. The door closed, leaving you both finally alone to face the inevitable. 

After several seconds he spoke. 

"I'll tell the men to keep guard. Laswell should be joining you soon." 

You looked, appalled, as he turned to leave. 

"You're leaving?" 

For the second time, you didn't recognize the heartbroken tone in your own voice. He was running away. He didn't want to face you.

He looked at you immediately, worry in his eyes. 

"You… Want me to stay?" He asked in dismay. 

"Yes.. please… you're the only one I want to stay with…" you admitted. 

He looked completely lost. You wanted to make him understand how badly he mattered to you. That you found a peace in his violence that was insane. Unreal.

"I. Just executed someone, in front of you." He started, fully turning to you. "I will never fucking forgive myself for it" 

"You don't have to! I ran to you! You tried to hide it!" You knew where this was going. You could feel it. 

"You should have been taken away right away! I should have ordered Soap to do it! You didn't deserve it- " 

"I RAN TO YOU! " You cried out. Your poor throat reminding you that it was a terrible idea. 

You were both out of breath. He was slipping away from you… he was slipping through your fingers every second that passed he was pulling himself away from your embrace. He was trying to break everything, trying to save you from himself. He didn't seem to understand that you needed to drown in him.

"Don't…" you desperately asked. 

"Don't what…" he asked in a hopeless tone. 

"Don't do that to me… Simon please…" you wanted to cry. You wanted him to feel how helpless you were feeling. How much you loved him. How much you needed him. 

"Don't walk away from me…" your tear stained face begged. 

He closed his eyes. 

"I'm a fucking monster." 

"No. You're Simon!" You stepped closer to him as he opened his eyes. 

"You're lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley!!" You captured his clothed face in your hands. 

"You're my Simon ghost Riley…" you whispered. "Please… tell me you're not giving up on me… please… tell me I'm yours too…" 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you incredibly close. 

"Are you not scared of me?" He asked in a breath. 

"No…" you answered. 

"Don't you hate me? Despise me?" 

"Never.." 

"You're fucking crazy." He concluded. 

You giggled bittersweetly. 

"You make me crazy…" 

"I am a monster." 

"Simon-" 

"I am. You should find better. You would be happier…" 

"I want my monster. I want all of him, I only feel safe and important with him…" 

He choked on a breath. 

"You wanted an answer." He started. 

You frowned a bit in confusion. 

"You wanted me to make up my mind. To tell you." He explained. 

You finally understood. Yes. You had asked him. You held your breath. 

"I want you in my life. Fuck you're all I want in my life. Tell me you want to be mine… I swear I'll never fucking leave you… I'll be as loyal as a dog, I swear I'll do everything to make you happy." He pleaded in a dark tone that contrasted heavily with the vow he was preaching. 

"Simon." You called making him look at you in the eyes. "I'm already yours." 

His hand left your waist to lift his mask up to his nose. Your breath hitched, time slowing when his lips fell on yours. You felt dizzy. His lips against yours in a desperate kiss to ground you both to each other. His soft tongue pleading access to more, that you willingly admitted, your own craving of more, of him, burning through you. The world disappeared. You had read this many times in books. You had never thought you would ever get to a point where you finally understood it. 

He groaned against you, you wrapped your hands around his neck. He lifted you up, sitting you on the table. You spread your legs, trapping him in between and pulling him closer. You were addicted. Absolutely lost. He kissed you like you were the only reason he'd ever inhale and exhale again. Desperately. His taste on your tongue was something you wanted to imprint in your mind forever.

You almost pitied the fact that you had to breathe when you separated to catch your breaths. He remained there. His forehead touching yours. You remained eyes closed. 

The atmosphere had entirely changed. It was as if you weren't being kidnapped thirty minutes ago. 

"Simon… don't leave…" you begged in a murmur. 

"Never." 

The night had fallen very quickly. Laswell had indeed passed by. She was relieved you were fine. She also fully understood that you needed time and decided to leave you two alone for a few days. The day had been terribly long. Horribly. You and Simon didn't let go of each other for hours, even dining with you sitting on his lap. Poor man hadn't even changed when it was finally time to go to bed. 

"Hey… bunny…" he called softly. 

You shook your head, knowing what he wanted to say. 

"Bunny come on… I need to change… you're gonna get dirty." 

"Don't care…" 

He chuckled. He sounded relieved. 

"Y/N, I promise .. I hop in the shower and I come to bed with you if you want. It'll take five minutes, I swear." He tried to convince you. 

You didn't want to let him go. But you understood he probably wanted to wash away all reminders of what happened. You nodded against his neck. He walked to the bed and softly dropped you. He grabbed Reaper from the ground. 

"Here doll, your plushie."

"Reaper…" you corrected him. 

He chuckled. Taking out his gloves, he let one of his thumbs run over your cheeks, brushing your hair away.

"I'll be right back." 

He was already ripping off his tactical gear as he walked out. You had time to catch a glimpse of his back, various bruises and scars, more or less recent painted it. It made you want to follow him and kiss every single one of them. Maybe it was too much… everything that was happening was confusing but fuck at the moment you couldn't care less. 

He had kept his promise, around 5 minutes after, he was back in the room, a towel around his midsection. 

Your breath caught in your throat. 

You sat in the bed. He was wearing a new balaclava. 

"Simon…" you called. 

You watched the bruises and cuts on his chest with a worried look. He stepped closer to you, grabbing your chin in one hand softly. 

"Hey. Eyes up." 

You obeyed.

"It's nothing. It's just a scratch. Alright?" 

You whined. 

"Shu-huhu…" he soothed. 

Fuck… your mind was a fucking blurr. You weren't drunk this time. But the adoration, the heart eyes were back. 

"It's nothing, little one…" 

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. 

"Fuck…" he cursed under his breath.

You opened them back slowly. 

"Turn around love, let me just grab some pants." 

You blushed, nodding. You turned around facing the wall. You heard him open his bag that he had brought into your room earlier. A few seconds later you felt the bed dent. You glanced back as he slipped under the covers with you. His arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. 

You both sighed at the same time. 

"Simon…" you called. 

"Yes bunny…" 

"Thank you for coming to save me…" you let out in a whisper.

"Darling… I will always come for you." He whispered in your ear. 

"I'm so glad it's over" 

"I'm glad too…" 

You smiled. 

"Let's sleep, little bunny… It's late." 

You whined a bit. 

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. " 

You closed your eyes at that. The warmth and the comfort of his arms and body pulled you  to sleep. 

The two next days felt out of reality. Laswell didn't contact you and the rest of the squad didn't pass by. It was only the two of you. And you couldn't let go of each other. Especially Simon. You didn't fully understand what was happening. You honestly didn't care. A silent agreement stood between you two that nothing mattered. No questions on the relation, no questions on behavior, nothing. 

You just basked in each other's presence. 

That night, you tried to get up to go to the bathroom. After close negotiations he had unwrapped his arms from you. You went to the bathroom, glanced at his dirty gear on the ground, and tried to put it in the washing machine. Tried. Because he had already crawled out of bed to find you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm just putting this in the washer for-" 

"Forget about that…" 

He picked you up bridal style. 

"S-simon…" you blushed. 

"Fuck that. Come back to bed." 

And you did. Not getting out of bed before 11 am the next day. 

You had shared brunch. He stood behind you, hands over your stomach and face in your neck while you washed the dishes in his shirt. Then he pulled you to him making you follow him on the couch where you both laid down, a blanket over you, some tv show on screen. 

When you went back to bed that night, you made the mistake of stepping inside your bedroom without him. 

"Where are you going?" He asked. 

"Oh.. hum… I thought you might want to rest without having me annoying you…" 

He had stepped closer to you, incredibly close. 

"One more night… please…" he whispered. 

"Anything…" you whispered back, gladly pulling him after you. 

It calmed down for a bit the next day. You were able to walk around the house without having Simon attached to you or running to pick you up to immobilize you against him. Though none of this bothered you, you tried to focus a bit on what happened. You also tried to buy a new phone. Even like that, he made you sit on the couch in between his legs, with your laptop on your lap. 

He was watching TV, fingertips drawing circles on your naked thighs. You had first cursed yourself for wearing PJ shorts, and then had lost all track of your search for a new device, leaning back against him. 

On the third day, things seemed to fall back into your old ways. Playful, kind, sweet. Again a silent contract linked you both, as if the two last days were yours to keep. It was a moment needed for the both of you, after a painful time. You still put off a serious conversation about your new relationship to a later time. 

The boys were finally allowed to pass by. Soap and Gaz had immediately hugged you. 

"Little Sparrow!" Soap cheered. 

You hugged them back. 

Konig was also here and even though you didn't know him well, you couldn't stop yourself from hugging him. He saved you too. 

"Thank you konig." 

He had rubbed the back of his head, giggling. 

Price had held you in his arms for a little while before planting a kiss in your hair and stepping back. 

You all sat in the small living room space. Simon was still very possessive and made you sit in his lap on the ground, hands wrapped tightly around your waist. 

"Thank you everyone. For keeping me safe and saving me. And… I'm so sorry johnny…" 

"No no! Don't worry. I've gone through much worse. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I fucked up…" 

You shook your head. 

"No… we were all under pressure… no one suspected him." 

"I did." Interrupted Simon. 

You smiled. 

"Yeah… you did…" 

You could see the boys looking at each other, obviously a question on their mind. The burning question. Soap felt the bravest.

"Soo… what's this?" Soap asked changing subject and pointing repeatedly in between the both of you. 

You blushed heavily. Soap's grin growing. 

"She's my girlfriend." 

You were? Fuck. 

"Am I?" You asked, looking at him. "You never asked" You teased. 

"I asked you to be mine. You said you were. So, mine." He stated without a worry in the world. 

The boys laughed and you nestled closer to him. You spent the rest of the day hanging out together, finally at peace. 

In the next few days you met with Laswell. A few things had to be resolved. Your room needed a makeover. You wanted darkends's devices to gather information. 

"We'll keep his devices but you can't have them now. You need some time away from all of this." 

You had rolled your eyes but deep down you agreed. This had been a close call. Way too close. She had told you she would keep you informed about the apartment so for now you remained in the hideout with Simon. The boys passing by very often. 

You had been very happily shopping, the military giving you a huge amount of money as reparation for almost being killed in their care. You had bought new components for a brand new PC, a new phone, clothes and other things. One thing that you seemed to absolutely love doing was asking Simon's opinion on everything. 

"Simon, do you like this shirt?" 

"You'll look adorable in it." He kissed your forehead. 

You even used this new hobby to tease him. 

"What do you think of this skirt?" You smiled innocently. 

It had entirely backfired. 

"If you promise to wear no panties with it, it'll become my favorite piece of clothing." He growled.

You had blushed and thrown him a pillow. 

Some moments of serious talk had also been present. 

"You know I'm doing something dangerous… it could put you in danger… Are you sure you want to be with me?" He asked. 

"Simon I don't need to date you to be in danger. I'm the one who keeps getting attacked and almost killed, you're the one who should be having second thoughts!" 

The Best moments were the ones where He would steal kisses from you whenever he could. He'd stare at you from afar, making blush. He'd always stare into your eyes, asking for permission to kiss you. As if you needed to ever say it out loud to him.  Sometimes it would heat up very fast, but he would always stop. Much to both of your frustrations. 

But you did have this conversation. He had wanted to, and asked to take things slowly. He wanted you to be sure of things before heading to more. 

You had wanted to go spend some money at the shopping center, asking him to come with you. He had politely declined, offering to call Soap, Konig and Gaz to go with you. Shopping wasn't particularly his favorite thing to do. He sat on the couch, legs spread, a file in hand, looking down at you. The sight was particularly comical yet extremely exciting. You had dropped to your knees in between his to get his attention, he had immediately tensed. He looked at you like he wanted to devour you. You kept asking for him to come with you, he'd decline, his voice deepening more and more each time. 

"Y/N. Get up." He ordered. 

"Please… Simon come with me shopping…" you whined again, biting your lip. 

It was obvious. So obvious. But he played through, adoring the sight before him. 

It had been interrupted by Price and Soap walking in. You remained on the floor, now turning your head to Soap. 

"Soap! Ghost won't come with me…" 

"Try taking his pants off, it's easier to cu-" 

You had blushed heavily. Price tried his best not to laugh. You had never seen a man run so fast in his life. You had gotten up, after ghost had gotten up as well , walking out the door behind Soap. Price had finally laughed, you were heavily embarrassed but you had won, thanks to Soap. 

Today Simon was particularly quiet. He walked around, stealing kisses and touches every now and then. You were writing on your laptop, some things about darkends needed to be reported for the full file. Laswell had told you it wasn't urgent, but you wanted to finish it. You were also getting annoyed. The tiny place was starting to get on your nerves. You wanted to go back home. 

It was an antagonizing thought as you also were uncomfortable going back in that space. It felt different. Peter had been there. You had opened your door to him and he had broken in and trashed your stuff. You had talked about it with Simon, about your anxiousness. He had understood and tried to comfort you. 

So here you were, sitting in the small, now crowded space with everyone. Laswell, price and squad 141 including Konig. 

"Sparrow, ghost told me about your thoughts on your apartment." 

You sighed. Of course he did. You looked at him as he looked at you with a soft expression. 

"So we came up with something and I'd like to ask you if you'd be alright with it." 

You were now visibly curious. Price took the lead after Laswell. 

"Until we can find a new and better way to keep you safe, we thought about moving you closer to the base. Some place you'd feel safer." 

"What are you saying?" You asked. 

"There's a house in a residential area, very close to the base that's free. It's a family house so it's quite big." Laswell explained. 

"And we're all moving in with you guys!" Soap cheered, interrupting her, Gaz nodding. 

"It's temporary, it doesn't have to be permanent. It's an option, after everything that happened." Price added.

You looked at Ghost with a smile on your face, brows rising. 

"You accepted this?" You asked, a hint of a laugh in your voice. 

"It's safer if we're all there. I can't always be with you… and maybe you'll feel better in a new environment." He explained. 

You had mixed feelings. It sounded fun. But you'd have less privacy with Simon. You had started to accept them as a family. And after everything that happened it was perhaps best. 

"Alright… let's do that." 

[not-goldy]

I ain't gonna lie. For the first time I been thinking about Jikook locked away isolated together in the middle of nowhere all day every day serving and now seeing how they can't stop bickering. I really hope they haven't gotten in there and started cause it's way stressful in there, then it is in a cozy camper in the peaceful woods, that had them bickering in 5 minutes of arriving. I been thinking about that all day. I also was thinking about JK saying he wants to do this after military for years with Jimin and I am really hoping Military doesn't break that plan and hinder it in any way when they come out. I hope they come out the same. They'll be different, but I hope also the same. I am also hoping that pent up tension they had, was completely out of their system before they enlisted. Like got everything off their chest. I mean as soon as they got a break, they just kinda went their separate ways tho riding with other people. Not saying that's bad or anything since they were going back home together, but dang, they really push the hell out of each other's buttons for attention. They been doing this for years and know their dynamic better than we do tho and for all we know this is how they've always been in private, but what we were seeing of them in OT7 was more contained, edited and watered down and subdued because of the Hyungs around them keeping them in check. No wonder RM was ready to fight the staff for putting him with Jikook. For the first time, I get it RM, I feel you man. I feel for all their Hyungs, cause they're both totally unhinged and wild as hell. lol Gotta love them.

Bickering? Sorry I'm not gonna read that.

When Yoonmin "bicker" its cute cos they giving old married couples vibe

When Kook rough handles Jin its a match made in heaven. When he stresses Namjoon out its a boy crush.

But when Jikook "bicker and rough house" it's weird and unheard of right?? Even though they are literally the same person's in those other dynamics.

We been here before several times and yall are starting to get on my nerves yall remember when jimin and Kook were drunk playing soccer or football and he shoved Jimin so hard I nearly passed out seeing that??

Or when Jimin injured his leg after breaking Jungkook's mosquito net and falling as he was being chased off by Jungkook???

This is them. They not doing nothing we haven't seen or heard them do before.

Jimin asks him to carry a heavy table and he goes carry it Jimimshi you're strong you got this.

I don't think they both would do this or want to do this if they felt they had to be anything BUT THEMSELVES.

If their interaction makes you uncomfortable to watch perhaps it should be a sign to you that you've over romanticed them.

Of course this is THEM like what ain't you understanding 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

THIS IS JIKOOK TOOOOO AH

Remember when we talked about what we expected from the show and yall asked me and I said I want to know what Jikook's idea of entertainment is????

This is them curating a show for you - a show they think showcases their dynamic sells their chemistry and is entertaining- so to hear you say all this as if they were sneak filmed and unaware of their environment or how they coming across to people watching them is difficult to read through.

Like I said they owe us nothing and this is nothing they themselves haven't said to us that they do behind cams. It's just the cameras don't follow them well into those private lives you talk about even though they wish they could follow them and capture that moment.

You are the same people who would have gone feral if Jimin eating out Jungkook's neck was caught on camera but imagine how annoying it would be if JK solos also came on here complaining that was abusive and bullying for him biting Kooks neck like that.

Yall are becoming insufferable stop.

Jimin done told us all about Jungkook whooping him spanking him scolding him manhandling him remember when he said JK whoops him and JK said don't say stuff like that....

However you feel about this part of their dynamic it seems they both enjoy it.

And hybe pays attention to the metrics it saw how engaged sparked each time they shared those glimpses into their private life each time we discussed it raved over it and they know it's something we like to see.

Stop making this something it's not cos yall sounding like delulu solos at this point like what really did you think was going to happen?? Tell me your ridiculous expectations of two closeted queer men and I'll tell you just how delusional you are.

People call them a bunch of smoking vaping alcoholics who chase women up and down the clubs like they collecting Pokémons

If they not gonna show them smoking vaping getting drunk to a stupor chasing and hitting on boys and girls fucking random strangers down the street talking shit bout army and all the people they keeping it on their chest for- what the fuck makes you think they will out themselves like that on their show???

Yall keep reading negative meanings into their relationship and interactions and yet they keep telling and showing yall they want to be together, they enjoy eachother's company and want to do the things yall thing they hate or that is hurting one of them.

Jimin is not afraid to establish boundaries or cut toxic people off and out of his life. If he felt JK was one he knows what to do. He is one to call JK out for not returning texts and calls, for not wishing members a happy birthday for speaking rudely to members for going out to club during Pandemic.

Yes he's manhandling Jimin and yet Jimin will chose to go to the moon to the desert to military

Certain parts of their "private lives" have been censored and will always be censored

Military won't change their plans cos how else would they explain their relationship if not through content

Like yall get that they coming up with these shows to justify why they gotta be together right????

Like yall get that if it's not because they "work" together they SHOULDN'T BE AROUND EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME RIGHT????

THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE LIVING SINGLE LIVES INDEPENDENT LIVES IN SEPERATE HOMES DOING SEPERATE THINGS BECAUSE FOR ALL INTENT AND PURPOSES THEY ARE STRAIGHT

At least to the public eye.

THATS WHAT PEOPLE WHO AREN'T GAY IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH EACHOTHER ARE SUPPOSED TO DO.

AND BELIEVE IT OR NOT THATS WHAT THEY WANT YOU, THE MEDIA AND THE GOVERNMENT TO BELIEVE🙂

UNTILL THEY ARE OUT THEY WILL ALWAYS GIVE PERFORMATIVE HETERSEXUALITY

AND UNTILL ONE OF THEM TRANSITIONS AS A TRANS WOMAN THEY WILL ALWAYS ACT LIKE THE BOYS THAT THEY ARE

[kyeomyun]

As The Sun Dies, So Do We

pairings: husband!joshua x gn!reader

genre: angst, apocalyptic(?), hurt, end of the world type deal

warnings: alcohol consumption, major character death(s) (not really specified), you might cry?

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: you both watched as the world took its final breathes, sharing your last few minutes before this love became just a memory.

s.n.: this story is technically for @stormyjisung for her birthday even though it was last month but as a overthinker, couldn't write a angsty shua story. BUT HERE WE ARE.

network(s): @preciousillusions-net @kflixnet

20 minutes...

1,200 seconds left before this world is nothing but a molting rock above. The people within just a memory and grains of dust. Signs of life ending quicker than the creator above might have predicted.

Or did he so predict this tragic faith? A faith uncontrollable yet beautiful. Just knowing that everyone else will all perish along with you and not continue living their longed life brought a sense of solace within you.

With one more push to this insanely heavy couch, you made sure it was stable before wiping away the beads of sweat from your forehead. Your hair stuck on the skin.

You sighed, breath flowing into the polluted air. Tension left from your body as you finally slacked back onto the torn cushion of your couch.

"What's with the sigh?" A voice queried you behind you. Footsteps approaching at a minimum pace but getting to the couch whatsoever.

"Nothing," You replied honestly. "Just can't believe this is all happening and that we have a front row seats of it all."

Which you did. Your couch that was once in front of your TV, in your home, broadcasting the end of everyone's chapter, was now on a hill right above the many oceans that joins together in some way.

You always pondered around the thought of how the world would look like before it became non-existent. Maybe an apocalypse made by clumsy scientist? Or the air becoming so thick that it never makes it down your lungs? Skies blossomed with grays and melchony. But you never imagined it to look like this...

So beautiful and enticing..

The sky was painted with eternal sunsets, an ambient of oranges, yellows, pinks, littered across. Clouds faceless yet expressing their sorrow of not delivering enough rain where you would beg for it. The sun was right above the horizon, it's rays swimming in the ocean below. Just beautiful..

"Mm," Was the only response you got as well as a light groan as your lover finally sat down on the couch next to you. A cracking noise was heard before your peripheral caught attention to the beers in his hands.

15 minutes..

900 seconds that you have left with your muse. 900 more seconds before his soul is not in this same place as yours, entagled.

"Here you go," your lover announced, a beer awaiting in his grasp.

You gladly accepted. You didn't know what came over you but before you knew it, you were flushing the alcohol down your system in no time. The fizz in your tongue and the burn in your throat before letting out a light hiss as it settles down in your stomach.

"I can't believe it's actually happening.." You repeated for the umpteenth time. "We are really going out like this."

"Together." He added on.

"Together.." You repeated back with caution. The alcohol finally kicking into your system.

10 minutes.

600 more seconds before "together" becomes just a wish for you both. 600 more seconds before separation becomes the ending.

"Together..." The world slipped out once more, this time a whimper as you finally pieced together the outcome of all of this. As selfish as you were thinking how everyone will have the same faith at the same time, you sunk in that he will too have that faith. Gone from you.

"My love.." He finally spoke before embracing your trembling figure into his own. Sweaty after pushing this heavy weight of a couch up an insanely steep hill but comforting. "My dear, wonderful, Y/N.." The shakiness of his voice signaled his breaking point as well but his tear stayed solid for now. Just for now.

Tears continued to stream down and soaking the both of you. Reality was too heavy to carry at this point and hearing the nicknames that you will never hear again made you realize that you really should've cherished them more.

As for Joshua, holding you this close and sinking in the intimacy being shared was almost as suffocating as the pollution. The sky still beaming down and watching one of the many couples finally realize this was truly their final night alive as the world crumbles into nothing.

5 minutes.

300 seconds to cherish each other's love, guilt storming above the both of you knowing that way more could have been given and taken.

It sucks that the end of everything is when you finally realize such beauties could have been held onto way tighter and loved in such ways. But why is that?

Why is it we feel such intense emotion we couldn't experience before risks or threats such as this?

Because we sink in that there is no going back.

There was no going back to belting out highnotes not late nights, seeing who will get the higher score at a random karaoke bar. No more cuddles in the morning with small Ted talks, no more back hugs while you chop the vegetables and your lover taking over in fear of you possibly harming yourself, no more showers together where you make little horns out of the soaked hair, no more words to be written in this book that was supposed to go on for way longer than it did.

"My precious jewel," Joshua voiced broke again, and so did his well-being. "How about I make you fresh batch of pancakes when we meet again? With whipped cream, a smiley face," He smiled through his words. He knew meeting you again was only a chance and not a guarantee. But tricking himself into such was the only thing keeping him sane.

The thought of a life without his wife was a killer alone.

"With a side of sweet coffee, just as you like." The deluled man continued with a shaking body.

1 minute.

60 more seconds before these fantasies become just ash and wishes never are granted again. 60 more seconds where this love will remain just a memory.

Joshua pulled back, big hands cupping your soggy cheeks. "How does that sound?" He asked with a bittersweet smile spreading across his face. Tears escaping at the sight of your much more heavier sobs but he didn't want to come to terms to what those tears really mean.

All you could do was nod. Words fogged in your mind.

30 more seconds.

30 more seconds before your last night ends.

Joshua gently swiped his thumb pads over the newborn tears rolling down with ease.

"May I have my goodnight kiss? I can't sleep without it." Asked Joshua, knowing the obvious answer. Yet still wanting to hear your voice.

"You know this will be our last-"

"May I have my goodnight kiss, Y/N?"

15 more seconds.

15 more seconds to accept this last wish. 15 more seconds to feel his lips pressed onto yours. 15 more seconds to see that smile that holds more words of love. Words of love that probably doesn't exist but is rather felt.

Without a second thought, you crashed your lips onto his. Tears continued their race down your faces and down to the couch below. The bittersweet in your mouths was so prominent but you needed to feel each other just one more time..

One more..

10...

He pulled away just slightly before connecting his head with yours.

9...

"Goodnight, my precious Y/N.."

8...

A sob left from you, but you managed to spill the words out before the storm crashed above you.

"Goodnight, Joshua.."

7...

"I will forever love you. No matter what form I take, what life I live, what planet I live on, you are always within me. Our love is forever embedded."

6...

"I love you too, Hong Joshua."

5...

"Sleep well, darling.."

4...

You both sat back, cuddled into each other's sides and never to be separated. Your head was tucked right beneath his chin and his hand continue their familiar dance on your back.

3...

You both saw the infamous flash of light slowly fall down from the sky, Death riding down in amazing glory as he comes to collect his most wins.

2...

You clasped Joshua hand for extra proximity. The screaming below you both blurred down to nothing as all what matters right now is the fading memories and awaiting future. The rings glowing on your hands as a painful reminder death will truly do you part.

1...

"Sleep well, Shua."

did you enjoy your order?

if you did, please reblog, like, (pls) comment, all of that jazz :>

have a good day, sweets ^^

tagging: @stormyjisung @star1117-archives @fairyhaos (sorry) @icyminghao @etherealyoungk @m4rsluv @trblsvt @gyu-effect @odxrilove @luvhyun3

[thedemiseofdj]

I have way too much to say about Jason Grace as a character so I might as well start here. I will also preface that while I might be critical of things in the Riordanverse, I do like it, I just think Jason in particular was done hella dirty. I’m also not working with a fully fresh memory of the franchise so if I say something stupid feel free to yell at me.

The relationship between Percy Jackson and Jason Grace was underwhelming, but it could’ve been a lot better. I think it boils down to three main areas: their rivalry, their relationship as foils and their eventual friendship

As Rivals

Jason and Percy’s rivalry basically boils down to “They fought because they were possessed,” and I think that they could’ve had plenty of reason to actually not like each other. This is part of my belief that the HoO series could’ve been longer to flesh out a lot of stuff. But I do believe that it’s bizarre that Percy and Jason meet, initially get along, and then come to blows in the same book. I know they were possessed, but that didn’t have to be the case. I think there were some things that Rick could’ve used to give them actual reasons to fight

I think it would boil down to two types of reasons: a systemic one and a “personal” one.

For Jason, I believe it was canon that the gods didn’t pay too much attention to Roman demigods, so it would’ve been interesting to have him go on a Greek quest while his memories are returning, see the amount of involvement from the gods and go: “So y’all can help, but the choose not to help the Romans? Fuck that!” I think the second reason that Jason would have to not like Percy would be to have him see how much the Greeks care about getting Percy back and contrast that to the Romans, who didn’t look for him and went as far as to replace him and you have Jason go: “Fuck That!” This would eventually turn into “Fuck Percy Jackson,” because even though Jason’s not really mad at Percy, he’s the poster boy for what Jason is really mad at

For Percy, you have him see the safety net that the Roman demigods have in New Rome and go: “Why don’t the Greeks have something similar? Fuck that!”. You can also have Percy find out that while he pretty much lost eight months in the blink of an eye, Jason was only asleep for a few days and go: “Fuck that!” This turns into a “Fuck Jason Grace” attitude because Jason is also the poster boy for what Percy is actually mad at

All in all, I don’t believe that they need actual personal gripes with each other, they just need to view each other as the easy target for the actual things they’re mad at.

They would eventually do fight, but not right away. In an ideal world where there is more space in the narrative(more/longer books), there would be at least a whole book where Percy and Jason just don’t get along. However, they wouldn’t come to blows by themselves. This is where the eidolons come in. Instead of it being a full possession like it was in the books, it could’ve been that the eidolons just stoked the tension that was already bubbling under the surface.

Who wins this fight? I would want it to be Jason(probably because I like the character and project on him way too much to have him lose). But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who wins, it just matters that the truth comes to light and they eventually talk it out.

As Foils

Jason and Percy could’ve been interesting foils because they both occupy the same space, both being big three powerhouses and leaders at their respective camps. However, they operate completely differently.

Both of them are opposites when it comes to their personality. Percy is a much more untamed, free-spirited rebel while Jason, even though he chafed under rules, still followed them. They are such opposites to the point where some characters that like one, automatically don’t like the other(Annabeth to Jason and Piper to Percy).

Percy is the type to sacrifice the world to save the people he cares about. And while I personally don’t believe that Jason is the ‘needs of the many’ type, he’s certainly not gonna go that far

They are also interesting in how similar they are.

On a basic level, both of them are good people who want to do the right thing, but it goes far deeper than that

I have a headcannon that Jason Grace’s fatal flaw is ‘Self Sacrifice’(I might get into this more in another post). This gives Jason an equally “job interview-y” flaw to Percy’s ‘Personal Loyalty’(as much as I love that being Percy’s fatal flaw, it is very much like when someone says “I’m too *insert good trait*” for the greatest weakness question in a job interview, at least in my opinion)

As Friends

Like I said before, Percy and Jason occupy the same space, so they both can relate to one another on a much deeper level than most others. In canon, they get along great after their spat and I wouldn’t change much about that.

I feel like their similar positions in life would allow them to trust each other

I do think that it would’ve been cool to see them go apeshit together with their combined strength more often

God I hope this shit made sense. I mainly just wish Jason and Percy’s fight had more meaning.

[centaurianthropology]

Why Spenser Starke is a Fantastic Horror GM (and the Core Fantasy in Candela Obscura)

So, I have seen some rancid takes about Spenser Starke online. Less so on this webbed site, largely because people around here are not in a pissing contest to prove who’s the most cynical, superior, and dickish. But there have still been some mind-blowing ones, from “he says UM too much” (guess who else does that? Brennan, but I don’t see these people criticizing him), or “he describes scenes like shots in a movie and that’s BAD WRONG” (while you might not stylistically enjoy it, I for one adore seeing a new interpretation of how to narrate while GMing, and think he’s doing great).

But the two that rub me the wrong way most are that he “controls the narrative too tightly” and doesn’t allow the characters to meander too long before throwing them back into the narrative, and that he’s “too harsh” in that even mixed successes tend to net characters damage of some sort. I saw accusations of “GM vs Player” mentality, but everyone was clearly enjoying themselves and the experience.

And that, I think, highlights the fundamental disconnect between these complainers and what’s actually happening on the screen: they don’t understand the core experience.

They have likely never played horror TTRPGs. They may have never played TTRPGs period, and instead are armchair DMs based purely on how Matt and Brennan DM, not really understanding that there are a thousand other ways to DM. But if they have played TTRPGs, I would guess that they’ve exclusively played D&D or its ilk. And I say that because there’s a very clear belief here that empowerment and ‘winning the game’, as well as wandering about freely to create your own narrative at your own pace are all fundamental parts of the TTRPG experience as a whole. But they aren’t. They’re fundamental to D&D, yes, but this is not what players come to a game like Candela Obscura for.

Each TTRPG has a central fantasy playing out. In D&D it’s heroic empowerment. D&D is mechanically built around getting more and more power and eventually defeating the big bad. A good GM in D&D, like Matt Mercer, focuses on giving out challenges, but always helping their players strive to overcome and grow and become better. This self-actualization is at the heart of the experience.

Horror games are not about that at all. The closest to that fantasy is something like ‘Vampire the Masqerade’ or other World of Darkness games, which do feature power growth, but the core fantasy is actually about learning that you are a monster. And embracing power will lead to even greater monstrousness. The horror in games like this is both political and personal, and the system is mechanically built to accommodate that horror.

And if you watch LA by Night or NY by Night, you’ll actually see that Jason Carl employs a fairly similar narrative tightness to his storytelling as that of Spenser Starke. Because a huge part of horror is about establishing and maintaining a mood. To do that, a DM has to keep a tighter rein on pacing, cutting from scene to scene and moment to moment in a way that is more directed than in D&D, because that helps establish and maintain the vibe being created.

Candela Obscura plays, thematically, a lot like one of my favorite games to run: ‘Call of Cthulhu’. CoC is a game all about disempowerment. The power differential between the players and the monsters is vast. Combat is vicious, short, and deadly, and direct combat almost always ends badly for an investigator. There is an entire chapter devoted to running away for a reason.

Both CoC and Candela are built on danger, vulnerability, and a constant sense of tension. And Spenser is fantastic at all of these. He keeps his narrative laser focused, moving between moments rapid-fire to keep up that tension, and to introduce new dangers. He is a ‘vicious’ DM only in so much as even mixed successes hurt. But this also keeps the tension up by keeping the characters and players on the edges of their seats. They are almost never safe. They are almost never well. They are constantly juggling dwindling resources. They are underpowered, vulnerable, and afraid.

And that’s the core fantasy here: exploring fear in a safe way. Being stressed out in a way you can leave behind as soon as the scene is done. Constantly living on the edge, fighting the odds, and knowing that you likely won’t succeed or will only do so at great cost. And he is masterfully keeping that intensity running through each session.

He gives characters time to talk about themselves, time for scenes to play out, until he feels the tension begin to flag, and then he pushes on. He never lets the air go entirely out of the narrative sails. He has a great sense of when a character needs a moment (his use of the red PTSD lighting exemplifies how closely he’s paying attention to his players and adjusting the setting to fit their moods). He sometimes pushes on, gets pushback from a player who wants another beat, and is always happy to give that to them. He keeps the pace up, but is always very careful to make sure his players have what they need to still enjoy this particular experience.

All this is to say that Spenser is absolutely killing it at being an exemplary horror GM. His sense of pacing and tension, his ability to direct action while still always embracing player autonomy, and using the mechanics of the system to never allow them to feel entirely safe are all great tools in a horror GM’s toolkit.

Horror games are not for everyone. Certainly there are plenty of people who only ever want the hero fantasy of D&D, but I think it’s important to recognize what the goal of a game is, and what constitutes success within those parameters, rather than parameters that only exist in an audience member’s mind, because they don’t really get how horror games work.

[mariacallous]

Almost one in five Americans over age 65 are unable to manage basic activities of daily life—bathing, dressing, eating, toileting—without assistance. Among those over age 85, the proportion is closer to half. Friends and family members can and do help out, but even so, about half of people reaching the age of 65-years of age will use paid long-term services and supports (LTSS) at some point. Most Americans do not have enough income or savings to cover these costs. The private long-term care insurance industry has never worked well despite many creative efforts to fix it and to encourage enrollment. The Federal Medicare program covers only short spells of home care after a hospitalization and does not provide coverage for long-term support. That leaves Medicaid. Medicaid offers a critical long-term care safety net for people who get their healthcare primarily through Medicaid—but it isn’t a good solution for most Medicare beneficiaries as it doesn’t align with the system that manages their care and pays their providers. Moreover, eligibility for Medicaid is restricted to those with very low incomes and few assets, so few older adults qualify. It is well past time to add a universal home care program to Medicare itself.

Prior efforts to move in this direction have been stymied. Some proponents have called for a universal, open-ended benefit. Critics have argued that any universal home care benefit would be a budget buster. These tensions are ubiquitous in social program design. An additional tension in designing a program that serves people towards the end of their lives is that public funds should be focused on expanding access to necessary care rather than protecting the ability of people to leave large bequests to their children. Designing a fiscally responsible, universal benefit that does all that is a challenging task—but we believe it is not an impossible one. In this post, we describe some design options for a Medicare home care benefit that could be dialed up or down depending on the priority assigned to program generosity or fiscal feasibility. 

Several features make designing a universal home care benefit challenging.

The need for home care is based on measures of functioning, not lab tests. A program must have simple and reliable ways to measure who needs care and how much care they need.

Most people report a preference for care in their own homes over that in nursing homes or other institutional settings. This is because, unlike medical care, which is often unpleasant and painful, home care typically provides support, comfort, and a degree of safety for beneficiaries. One consequence of these preferences is that a home care benefit would be susceptible to overspending. The program will need to have measures in place to avoid overuse.

Income alone is a poor indicator of how much Medicare beneficiaries can afford to pay for home care. For example, beneficiaries who are renters may depend on their incomes to afford housing; other beneficiaries may have very large, non-liquid assets but limited incomes, leaving them ineligible for Medicaid programs while unable to pay for care. Program design will have to address the importance of assets in this population.

Much LTSS is provided through informal care. Beneficiaries often prefer care provided by family members, but paying for informal care raises the potential for overspending, fraud, and exploitation of older adults.

State Medicaid programs currently cover the cost of home care for 4.2 million people, according to KFF, though eligibility and costs vary considerably across the country. Medicaid would continue to provide home and community-based services for people who are not Medicare beneficiaries. Some of this spending could be redeployed by states to improve the quality of nursing home care and for home and community-based services for people who are not eligible for Medicaid. The federal share of Medicaid savings could be used to defray the costs of a new Medicare home care program.

None of these challenges can be ignored—but none of them are damning either. As with any program, policymakers will need to make tradeoffs across these challenges to design a program that provides the maximum benefits consistent with their budget appetite. The good news is that the current landscape of home care financial protections is so limited that even a modest program that made conservative choices across these parameters, with costs we estimate at around $40 billion annually, would make many people who currently lack services much better off. Turning the dials more generously would, of course, cost more—and it would extend more benefits to more frail and vulnerable Medicare beneficiaries. 

What might such a very-conservatively designed universal program look like? Eligibility for the program would be restricted to people who independent clinical reviewers determined were unable to perform two activities of daily living (e.g., bathing, toileting, or eating). That’s the standard that many State Medicaid programs already use, and it could be assessed annually during the initial implementation period to further develop and monitor the uniformity of functional assessments over time. Second, the program would include cost-sharing that varied according to people’s means. Medicare beneficiaries with high income and assets would receive modest assistance from the program to defray a portion of the costs of home care; those with fewer assets and less income would pay much less. Third, beneficiary contributions to the costs of their care would depend on both their current income and their accumulated assets, but through cost-sharing rather than a strict cutoff. For example, at the cost listed above, we could allow all qualifying Medicare beneficiaries to fully retain income up to 150% of the poverty line ($22,600 in 2024) and assets up to $30,000; beyond that limit, individuals would still qualify but would pay cost-sharing out of their resources to defray taxpayer costs. Fourth, only care provided by formal caregivers associated with home care agencies would be covered. Hours of support would be based on need, but provider agencies would be subject to a population-based hours of service budget. The combination of resource-based copayments with population-level budgeting will ensure that the costs of this program will not explode. Finally, Federal Medicaid savings from shifting home care benefits from Medicaid to Medicare would be used to defray the costs of the program.

The program we’ve outlined tightly focuses benefits on the most vulnerable people who currently have little eligibility for care, and few means to pay for services. But many others could also benefit from a new home care program. People who have impaired functioning that does not meet the two activities of daily living standard may also need assistance. Lower cost-sharing for middle-class people would leave them more resources to make the most of their lives. The tradeoff is simple: at a higher cost to the federal budget, more people would get more protection. We can’t define where the lines should be drawn—that’s Congress’s job—but our analysis suggests that there are programmatically tractable, fiscally feasible ways to add a home care benefit to the Medicare program.

[27thfirefly]

i have been getting kind of interested in the idea of family abolition lately but i dont really know anything about it. i know its something that you’re pretty into so do you have any recommendations of things to read to start learning about it?

MY AGENDA YAAAY. ok ill list out the main couple of works that concern themselves with the abolition of the family - i've not read them through properly yet, but i'll try to include some choice excerpts for each:

friedrich engels - origin of the family, private property and the state, 1884

one of the first analyses of the changes of familial structures throughout society following economic developments, though not without its flaws in its anthropological terms. it details the mechanisms through which private property and thereby inheritance would become a driving force in creating what we recognize as the patriarchy today. less of a direct call for abolition than the next two but still very concerned with understanding and analysing the family as a tool through which capitalism reproduces itself.

"The original meaning of the word “family” (familia) is not that compound of sentimentality and domestic strife which forms the ideal of the present-day philistine; among the Romans it did not at first even refer to the married pair and their children, but only to the slaves. Famulus means domestic slave, and familia is the total number of slaves belonging to one man." (p. 31)

in general i'll always refer to marx or engels as the starting point for analysis of a lot of things, so you can also just take this as a blanket recommendation for their works. marxist feminism in general lays the foundation for family abolition, so i'd also recommend you read up on reproductive labour and other general feminist theory.

sophie lewis - abolish the family: a manifesto for care and liberation, 2022

a very comprehensive introduction to the concept of family abolition, with a lot of references to other authors and works to sink your teeth deeper into. i went to a talk about this book this summer with her as one of the speakers, so although i haven't read it yet, i can say that she presents the topic in a very engaging way. she stresses the intersectional nature of family abolition, discussing race and queerness and how these factors tie into family abolition and the tensions that can arise due to the family's role as a safety net and community.

If the family is a combined-and-uneven form of thriving, denied to some, while being a combined-and-uneven mechanism of violence, concentrating power in the hands of others, it is foolish to imagine that there is an interpellative strategy we could “safely” choose that would also be adequate to the magnitude of the problem that is the family. One option is to specify, when we talk about abolition of the family, that we mean the white, cisheteropatriarchal, nuclear, colonial family. This might feel safer, but might actually pose more dangers in its invitation to excuse or romanticize the political character of all nonwhite, mixed, gay, and/or indigenous homes, while neglecting most people’s family-abolitionist needs and excluding them from family abolitionist politics!

m.e. o'brien - family abolition: capitalism and the communizing of care, 2023

a general run-through of a. the violence enacted through and within the family, and how the idea of the family as a private household serves to reproduce capitalist society, b. the history of the family and its forms throughout capitalist society, and c. speculations on how an anti-capitalist revolution would necessitate a total rethinking and restructuring of how we approach care and the labour that is currently being done within the family rather than through communal efforts or larger systems.

"Family abolition is the horizon of collective love. We place vast hopes and desires in the family: for care, for sex, for consistency over time, for unconditional support, for material aid, for entertainment, for providing stability in daily life. At these, the family is generally a catastrophic failure and often an alienated disappointment. Our available alternatives are rarely any better. These positive human needs can only be fulfilled in the overcoming of the family and all the institutions of capitalist society. It is only through our collective emancipation that we can forge the relationships of love and care that we all yearn for, that we all desperately need." (p. 250)

m.e. o'brien has also co-authored a speculative fiction book together with eman abdelhadi called everything for everyone, which takes place in a near future after a revolution and the establishment of a commune in new york city. from the excerpts i've read it seems like a very interesting take on how communal care could look like in a modern society.

feel free to contact me if you want pdfs of the books mentioned in this post!

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Belly dance Week 16 Observations: "Opening Up New Worlds Via Egyptian Belly Dance"

I can't believe that I have been taking belly dance lessons for 4 months now! Woohooo!!!

I have mentioned before how any woman or non-binary person interested in amplifying their connection to the feminine must consider taking belly dance classes or any class where you get to broaden your hip-to-ass consciousness and its range of motion. If you can't afford classes YET, visualize yourself being able to. Use your imagination to walk yourself through your ideal day and bask in your belly dance lessons from here! When you are moving through lack/scarcity, it is not something to be ashamed of. It just means that at least 60 percent of your "free time" must include you colluding with the slow-footed or quantum leaping unseen realm and transcendentally playing in the prophetic dreaming space of your imagination to inspire a shift in consciousness. Anyone who has survived anything knows that even when you hit the bottom and life strips you of everything, you always have your imagination.

This is good news. We have always been more than survivors.

As a dancer (pole, aerial, and belly dance), I sense how the female form is nothing short of a creative canvas, a medium for sound, light, and expression to enter and exit and favorably impact anyone we encounter. We are always receiving and giving through our inner wisdom, so when we grow our dance skills, we gift observers with more light from our presence and heartfelt connection with our whole body, and not merely attempt to robotically connect with another from the limits of our mind/intellect. The better we learn to care for our body, the more deeply we can understand our inner workings and create new dreams through the portals of our body as a kind of moving prayer. For example, we can create an artful love story through our shaking in ways that enhance our health, quality of moon time and pelvic bowl, and vitality.

As someone with 3 Bachelor degrees, Accounting, Chemistry and Biology, through my university studies I learned the basics of physiology and anatomy—the muscles, tissues, blood and bones, but there is nothing like having a hands-on, body-based dance rites of practice with nightly homework that can only be done while dancing to ambient music and gazing into a full length mirror . What I have learned in my lived experience as a belly dance student for 4 months is that the human body, human potential, and performance optimization rest in understanding the fascial system as part of our own self-care. And belly dance or any other form of dance helps us to get to know our creative wisdom, our womb wisdom, more intimately.

Our spiralic female body needs movement like it needs air and water. We are naturally receptive beings and movement helps us to open, awaken, and let go the accumulations. When we belly dance or routinely move our hips and belly in multi-directional ways, we naturally unwind the fascia in every area, which decreases our body’s tensions, stuckness, aches and pains, and mystically unlock and realign us to our magic and miracles. When our body is working more harmoniously, we are naturally more magical and miraculous in this reality. That is because everything orients from inside the dark and radiates outwards eventually, like a seed becomes a flower, you see.

You must get to know this nebulous word called "fascia," pronounced "fas-sha." Not only is it valuable to your body, it secretly holds a lot of old narratives, inherited trauma patterns, and the results from “harmful” programming and the accompanying choices made in earlier years. Fascia is so valuable, earthy, and ancient that without it, our bones would just fall straight onto the ground. We would not be able to walk, stand, or move. Fascia is what holds us together. Literally. Pray to it. It is spider web-like substance, an intricate, a 3-dimensional net of connective tissue, a root chakra energetic, and the support system of our entire body. Like a spider web, when there is a blockage somewhere, the whole web will shift and pull towards it and create other irregularities in the webbing i. e. body.

In belly dance, our movement geometry is rarely linear. We unwind in spirals, waves, circles, breasts shakes, spinal undulations, gyrations, hip drops, belly rolls, figure-8s, shimmies, and other wild uncoilings which instinctively create more lubrication in our fascia. More lubrication eventually leads to new body narratives. And new body narratives leak wide open into new life narratives. Even when there appears not to be forward progression, we have the wet pussy energy flow to stay 100 percent devoted and confident in our passions, medicine, and purpose.

India Ame'ye, Author

[digitaldetoxworld]

Causes of World War I in Europe The Causes of Conflict

Causes World War I, In Europe often referred to as the Great War, was a cataclysmic battle that reshaped the globe from 1914 to 1918. Its reasons were complex and multifaceted, stemming from a tangled net of nationalism, imperialism, militarism, and a series of alliances amongst European powers. The war resulted in unheard of stages of destruction and loss of lifestyles, essentially altering the political landscape and placing the degree for future conflicts.

Causes of the War

The roots of World War I may be traced again to the overdue nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, a time while European countries were fiercely competing for colonies and affect. The upward push of nationalism fueled dreams for independence among ethnic agencies, specifically in the Balkans, where Slavic nationalism turned into a mighty pressure. This region, frequently referred to as the "powder keg of Europe," became a flashpoint for tensions between the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Serbia, which sought to unite Slavic peoples.

Militarism also played a tremendous role inside the lead-up to the war. European international locations constructed up their army forces and advanced large plans for mobilization. The fingers race, mainly between Germany and Great Britain, created a climate of fear and suspicion. The Schlieffen Plan, Germany's strategy for a two-the front battle towards France and Russia, exemplified the militaristic mindset and the notion that quick, decisive movement ought to save you prolonged battle.

The tangled alliances of the time—which includes the Triple Entente among France, Russia, and Britain and the Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy—supposed that any localized conflict should hastily expand right into a broader struggle. This turned into illustrated whilst Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary become assassinated by a Bosnian Serb nationalist in June 1914, setting off a sequence response of mobilizations and declarations of warfare.

The War Begins

On July 28, 1914, Austria-Hungary declared struggle on Serbia, invoking the alliance systems that speedy pulled in other international locations. Russia mobilized in protection of Serbia, leading Germany to declare warfare on Russia. This turned into followed via declarations towards France and Belgium, drawing the British into the battle. By August 1914, lots of Europe changed into embroiled in struggle.

The initial section of the battle changed into characterized by way of movement and optimism. The German forces performed the Schlieffen Plan, advancing thru Belgium into France. However, the predicted brief victory changed into a stalemate as each sides dug in for trench warfare. The First Battle of the Marne in September 1914 halted the German strengthen and marked the beginning of a brutal and protracted conflict.

Life inside the Trenches

The trench struggle that ruled World War I became a terrible revel in for soldiers. Trenches stretched for miles, with opposing forces often just yards aside. Conditions had been appalling; soldiers faced dust, vermin, and a lack of sanitation. The mental toll was huge, with many guys laid low with what turned into then called "shell shock," now diagnosed as PTSD.

Combatants fought through a chain of bloody battles, which include Verdun and the Somme, where casualties had been spectacular. The Battle of the Somme, initiated in July 1916, aimed to alleviate strain at the French at Verdun and worried the primary use of tanks at the battlefield. Despite the creation of recent generation, the conflict remained mired in attrition, with neither side capable of stable a decisive victory.

Technological Innovations

It is noticed enormous technological advancements that modified the character of struggle. The use of machine guns, artillery, and poison gas delivered to the lethality of the battlefield. The creation of aircraft for reconnaissance and later bombing missions additionally marked a new generation in military strategy. Submarines and naval war, specially the German U-boat campaign, further complex the warfare, as blockades and unrestricted submarine struggle affected deliver lines and civilian delivery.

The war additionally fostered improvements in remedy and remedy for wounded infantrymen. The development of blood transfusions, advancements in surgical techniques, and the established order of prepared ambulance offerings stored endless lives, albeit at a super human fee.

The Home Front

The effect of the warfare prolonged far beyond the battlefield. Governments mobilized whole populations, instituting rationing and inspiring girls to join the body of workers as guys went off to fight. Women took on roles historically held by way of men, running in munitions factories, serving as nurses, and contributing to the conflict effort in numerous capacities. This shift commenced to task conventional gender roles and could have lasting implications for society.

Propaganda have become a effective device for governments, shaping public perception of the war and retaining morale. Nations painted the war as a war among proper and evil, using emotional appeals to rally support. Censorship also performed a critical function, with governments controlling the glide of statistics to prevent dissent and preserve solidarity.

The War Ends

The conflict dragged on for 4 long years, leading to immense suffering and disillusionment. By 1917, with growing casualties and monetary stress, public sentiment commenced to shift. The Russian Revolution that year noticed the Bolsheviks take power, leading to Russia's withdrawal from the conflict and a peace treaty with Germany in 1918.

The entry of the US into the battle in April 1917 provided a tremendous boost to the Allied powers. American troops, clean and enthusiastic, helped flip the tide towards the exhausted Central Powers. By late 1918, the war-weary countries sought an end to hostilities. On November 11, 1918, an armistice changed into signed, bringing the combating to a halt.

Aftermath and Legacy

Life in the trenches during World War I the Treaty of Versailles in 1919 formally ended the struggle and imposed heavy reparations on Germany, leading to economic worry and political instability. The redrawing of borders in Europe and the crumble of empires—the Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman, German, and Russian—created new international locations and sowed the seeds for future conflicts.

It is left an indelible mark on the 20th century, influencing artwork, literature, and political concept. The battle’s legacy is a haunting reminder of the cost of battle and the fragility of peace. As historians continue to investigate its reasons and results, World War I stays a pivotal second in human records, shaping the direction of the cutting-edge international.

[drdemonprince]

How do I reconcile "eat the rich" politics when my job personally relies on the rich? I work in development for a very wealthy school, & while I think my job is a net neutral (maybe even positive since I help people get scholarships), the whole experience has pushed me further left. Rich people are so fcking disingenuous & coming from a rural midwestern bgkd it's been so disorienting. Is there any way I can instill leftist practices into my work to maintain my sanity (& still pay my bills)? lol

I don't think those two things are reconcilable. I say this as a salaried employee at a private university, so I feel much of the same tensions. The way I resolve the tension is by recognizing that capitalism is an innately coercive labor structure, and so none of us are making free decisions about how we go about remaining alive -- and by undermining my workplace by committing time theft, cutting corners, violating the most oppressive and hierarchical rules of the institution, and giving the "education" that my institution charges for away for free as often as I can. The only way to be a good person within an evil system is to betray that system.

[unpluggedfinancial]

The Psychological Impact of Bitcoin on Traditional Investors

The rise of Bitcoin has not only disrupted financial systems but also had a profound psychological impact on traditional investors. For those accustomed to the well-trodden paths of stocks, bonds, and real estate, Bitcoin represents a paradigm shift that challenges their deeply held beliefs about value, risk, and the nature of money itself.

Traditional investors have long relied on a framework where value is backed by tangible assets or government authority, and where market movements, while volatile, often follow patterns shaped by economic fundamentals. Enter Bitcoin: an asset that is purely digital, decentralized, and whose value is shaped largely by network effects, market sentiment, and scarcity. For many investors, this has been a source of cognitive dissonance. The idea of trusting an algorithm rather than a central authority or corporate entity can be unsettling, leaving some traditional investors dismissive or outright fearful of Bitcoin.

Bitcoin's volatility has also created a psychological barrier. Traditional investors, especially those trained in risk management, often find it hard to reconcile Bitcoin's dramatic price swings with their approach to wealth preservation. Seeing an asset fluctuate by double-digit percentages in a single day triggers fear, skepticism, and, at times, outright disdain. This volatility stands in stark contrast to the relative predictability of blue-chip stocks or government bonds, making Bitcoin seem more like a gamble than a legitimate investment.

Yet, there's also a growing sense of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) among traditional investors. As institutional players like BlackRock and MicroStrategy have embraced Bitcoin, many who were previously skeptical are beginning to question their stance. The psychological pressure of potentially missing out on a generational opportunity is forcing a reevaluation. For some, this has led to the slow, cautious entry into Bitcoin—often in the form of small allocations, just enough to hedge against the possibility that Bitcoin could indeed become a significant part of the financial future.

The narratives around Bitcoin have also played a major role in shaping its psychological impact on traditional investors. Bitcoin advocates often describe it as "digital gold," a hedge against inflation and a store of value that cannot be manipulated by central banks or governments. This framing has intrigued some traditional investors, particularly in times of economic uncertainty, when fears of inflation or currency devaluation loom large. The appeal of an asset that operates outside of the traditional financial system, immune to government interference, is increasingly compelling for those seeking to diversify their risk.

Moreover, Bitcoin's decentralization challenges the traditional power dynamics of finance. Traditional investors are used to dealing with intermediaries—banks, brokers, and other financial institutions that act as gatekeepers. Bitcoin, however, removes these intermediaries and hands control back to individuals. For some, this is liberating; for others, it is unnerving. The idea of personal responsibility for one's wealth, without the safety nets provided by banks or the regulatory frameworks of traditional finance, can be intimidating. This fear of losing control, or making a mistake without recourse, is a significant psychological hurdle for many traditional investors.

Another psychological factor is the generational divide. Younger investors, more comfortable with technology and less trusting of traditional financial institutions, have been quick to embrace Bitcoin. For older investors, who may have spent decades building wealth through traditional means, Bitcoin's rise can feel like a challenge to their expertise and experience. This generational tension adds another layer of complexity, as traditional investors must confront not only their own biases but also the changing landscape of investor behavior and preferences.

The media's portrayal of Bitcoin also plays into the psychological narrative. Sensational headlines about Bitcoin's meteoric rises and dramatic crashes contribute to a perception of extreme risk. Traditional investors, who are accustomed to a more measured approach to investing, may find these stories off-putting. The media's focus on the speculative aspects of Bitcoin, rather than its underlying technology and potential for financial innovation, often reinforces negative perceptions among those who value stability and predictability in their investments.

Despite these challenges, the psychological journey for many traditional investors is evolving. As they see more institutional adoption, regulatory clarity, and integration of Bitcoin into mainstream financial services, their perception is slowly shifting. Bitcoin is no longer just the domain of tech enthusiasts and libertarians; it is becoming a legitimate asset class that demands consideration. The psychological impact of this shift cannot be understated—it is transforming skepticism into curiosity, and in some cases, into cautious participation.

Ultimately, the psychological impact of Bitcoin on traditional investors is a mix of fear, curiosity, and evolving acceptance. It challenges conventional wisdom, forcing many to confront their biases about what constitutes "real" money and value. The journey from skepticism to understanding is not easy, but as Bitcoin continues to gain traction, it's a journey that more and more traditional investors are beginning to undertake. This journey is not just about financial returns; it is about rethinking the nature of money, value, and the future of the financial system.