#because I find it so clear that he's lying in the second scene

[fromperdition4]

Love a parallel - especially when it lets us contrast relationships between the characters!

Because when Kinn is talking to Tawan in his cell, he's more open with his emotions - we can clearly see his anger, and that he's not at all conflicted about locking him up.

But it's different with Porsche. Here, Kinn's face is carefully blank - he's showing no real emotion and that's because he's conflicted about his decision here.

We know from the end of this episode and the next that Kinn does not really believe Tawan or think Porsche betrayed him. But he has to play the politics of the situation, because Tawan and his bodyguards are watching his every move.

He has to punish Porsche or his plans will be ruined (though punishing him will end up turning it into a shit show anyways)

But he knows doing this will hurt Porsche deeply. So, Kinn locks down on his own emotions to get through it.

Even as that cold, blank expression hurts Porsche even more.

[moni-logues]

Reciprocity

Pairing: Yoongi x afab reader (Kintsugi couple) feat. A Fine Line Couple

Genre: established relationship

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: A couples' holiday with Suri and Namjoon highlights a particular problem between you and Yoongi.

Content: one reference to self-harm (cutting) but discussion of scars, oral sex (f. receiving), discussions of sex life stuff?, i guess some poor communication, overheard sex

A/N: yes, it's me once again with my favourite characters no apologies. i have been thinking about this since maybe even before i finished the series??? and i'm glad to have it finally out of my head. this is unedited and unbeta'd, written by me in the course of this one single day and well, here we are. This is set in the summer, somewhere a few months after the ending of the series.

* * *

“It’ll be fun!” 

Yoongi just nodded and continued carefully folding clothes and packing them in a bag.  

“You don’t want to come,” you continued, heart sinking a little. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Tell your face.” 

He smiled then but didn’t want you to see it, turned around to fetch underwear from a drawer. When he turned back, his face was schooled into something a little more neutral, polite. 

“I’m not saying it’s my first choice of holiday,” he explained, “but I want to go.” 

“Good, because you’re coming whether you like it or not!” 

You hopped off the bed, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then moved into the kitchen to prepare snacks for the road. At the advice of your therapist, you were taking Yoongi at his word: if he said he wanted to come, you would believe him and it was not your responsibility if he was lying. Even though it felt like it was.  

A week in the sun had been your initial suggestion. Somewhere where the heat wasn’t a curse, but a blessing. Clear blue skies and cool water. Peace. Unbridled joy where the real world couldn’t touch you. Even you weren’t entirely sure when it turned into a couples’ holiday, but it was an idea that neither Suri nor Yoongi would ever come up with, and you weren’t sure about Namjoon so it must have been yours. Sounded like the sort of thing you would say. Yoongi had said yes and let you do the research, find somewhere not too far away, easy to get to but far enough to feel new, to feel fresh.  

He had been fairly tight-lipped about it since then. Got a little quiet when you brought it up, when you showed him tourism websites with activities laid out. He insisted he wanted to come but never quite managed to muster up the level of enthusiasm you’d hoped for. In a way, that was just Yoongi being Yoongi, but there was anxiety in you, too, and it was making you sensitive. You could see everyone hating the idea, hating the trip, having the worst time. The awkward silences, arguments about what to do or who should clean what. Namjoon had joked that he would have to force Suri to come and he had said it with a laugh but you knew it was true.  

You turned your head and looked out of the car window at the increasingly green scenes around you and bit your lip. It felt incongruous somehow to not be happy and peaceful when the environment was so lush and bright with life. With ease. With a natural kind of solidity that had stood for hundreds or thousands of years and was still standing. You felt small and silly to be worried about this but it didn’t stop you worrying. Yoongi’s hand found yours and, like it always did, made a warmth start in your heart. You closed your eyes for a second of intense gratitude and then turned to him. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said.  

And it sounded like he meant it. 

* 

You and Yoongi arrived first, took the back bedroom overlooking the lake at Yoongi’s insistence because it was the better view. You had stopped on the way for groceries and you stocked the fridge, took out food to cook for dinner, since it would be about that time when Namjoon and Suri arrived.  

The cabin was wooden and new, so new it still smelt literally pine-fresh. The sun was just starting to dip, dripping golden light over everything, spreading a thousand tiny diamonds on the surface of the lake. It couldn’t have been more picturesque. It made you want to send a postcard for the first time since you were a child.  You settled for texting photos to Taehyung who told you to stop messaging him. Your ripples of anxiety were peaking, anticipating Namjoon and Suri’s arrival and what sort of dynamic it would bring, how it might disturb the peace of this place.  

Yoongi tore you from the window and asked you to start peeling vegetables. You were glad of the task. 

“-t I don’t want to be here, it’s just going to be weird.” 

Suri’s voice came from the hallway and you froze. So did Yoongi. 

“I don’t know why you keep saying that-” Namjoon - “it’s not as if we’ve never spent time with them. You like them.” 

Suri’s hum in response sounded unconvinced.  

You heard the kicking off of shoes, could follow their footsteps into the living room, around the corner from the kitchen where the two of you were hidden. Yoongi put down his knife and moved to go, intercept them before they said something you didn’t want to hear, but you put a hand out to stop him. Your stomach was sick but you had to hear it. Whatever it might be.  

“She’s jus-” 

And they rounded the corner into the kitchen, stopped in their tracks when they saw you. 

“Hey!” Namjoon was the first to recover. “We didn’t know you guys had arrived already! Where have you parked?” 

“’Round the back,” Yoongi answered. 

He was looking at Suri and you were looking anywhere but. Face burning with shame—that this was your idea, that it was all your fault, that you should’ve made you presence known earlier, that no one except you wanted to do this—you swallowed and smiled as brightly as you could. 

“You made it!”  

Your cheer sounded forced to you; maybe Namjoon and Suri wouldn’t hear it. Maybe they would believe you. 

“Public transport is a fucking nightmare,” Suri said with feeling.  

“I told you we could’ve rented a car,” Namjoon replied as if they had had this argument already. 

“I’m not driving in these hills! You should do it. Right?” 

You flinched when she turned to you and realised you had to answer. 

“Uh-” 

“Yoongi drove, right? Literally what are men good for if not chauffeuring you around?” 

It was a lifeline for her, really, but you took it readily, gladly, anything to drive over the awkwardness and shame you were feeling. 

“She has a point, Joon,” you said, grinning at him. “You could at least get a licence.”  

Namjoon rolled his eyes indulgently, let you and Suri rib him a little more, smoothing things over at his own expense. You were deeply grateful.  

“Come and help us do dinner,” you said, ferreting out more chopping boards from the cupboard, handing over knives and ingredients.  

It would be fine, you told yourself as you diligently and with great focus, chopped an onion. It would be fine. It would not be weird. It would be fine. It would be fine.  

* 

It was fine. Dinner was cooked and eaten and cleaned up after. Drinks were taken on to the back porch, overlooking the lake, the heat lingering long into the darkness. It was not dissimilar to the other dinners you had had as a foursome. As long as you could forget what Suri might have been about to say, you were sure you could have a good time.  

* 

You woke the next morning, sun streaming sharply through a gap in the curtains. You rolled over, tucked yourself into Yoongi’s side even though you were already hot and sticky. You were willing yourself to fall back to sleep, even if just for a few minutes, and then you were sitting, eyes wide, ears trained.  

There was no mistaking the sound of other people having sex. You grimaced, settled back down in bed and pulled the covers over your head. 

“What?” Yoongi mumbled, not so much a word as a sound. 

“Can’t you hear them?” you asked in a stage whisper. 

Another grunt from Yoongi. Then you felt his body tense, followed by a sigh and a sleepy chuckle. 

“You’re the one who wanted to come on holiday with another couple.” 

You whined, prodded him sharply in the chest. 

“Not because I was anticipating this! Do they have to be so loud?” 

“This place is not exactly well sound-proofed.” 

“I so don’t want to hear this.” 

“Go back to sleep,” Yoongi said and he sounded like he was already halfway there himself.  

“I don’t know how you can sleep now that you can hear that.” 

Merely a hum in response. 

You lay for a few minutes, desperately trying not to hear the only noise in the house, and then you gave up. Threw back the covers and went into the bathroom to shower. The rush of the shower might not exactly cover it but it would give you something to do.  

* 

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted the other couple when they came out to join the two of you on the back porch, where you were sitting with coffee and fruit. “Just a quick request: could you please have louder sex? I’ve been getting a little too much sleep recently.” 

You and Suri both froze and you saw the blood swarm in her cheeks, red and hot. Namjoon just laughed.  

“I’ll see what we can do.” 

Suri swatted him harshly on the arm and he barely noticed, slung said arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissed her on the top of her head. If he felt embarrassed or awkward about it, it wasn’t showing. What was it like to be so self-assured, confident, relaxed about everything? Even with Suri’s face still pink, her mouth pulled into a scowl, furiously glowering at her boyfriend, he looked easy, his smile gentle and eyes bright. You envied him. You still felt silly and embarrassed about the previous evening, and embarrassed about hearing them have sex; he didn’t seem embarrassed at all to be heard.  

* 

Yoongi had insisted on washing up after breakfast. Didn’t let anyone else so much as carry a bowl back to the kitchen. He was taking his time on it, deliberately, carefully, putting off what he knew could not be avoided.  

He was rarely unaware of his own body. Vigilant at all times about its exposure. He had suffered years of summers under long sleeves and trousers, would suffer higher temperatures, more humidity if he had to. He regretted everything he had done to himself, but not in a way that prevented him doing it again. No amount of shame or embarrassment would stop him, it seemed. Not that it happened much these days, but the possibility was always there.  

Even when he was with you, he couldn’t let go. Even though you were sweet and kind and loving. Even though he knew there was a part of you that understood. Even though he could kiss your thighs where you had cut them and love you so much that it hurt, love your skin, love your scars (hate that you had them). Even though you kissed him, all over, generous and unsparing, even though you said you loved him, all the parts, every bit of him. He knew what he was and he found that breaking the habit of hiding himself was harder than the hiding had been in the first place. 

With his task finished, and all the others he had made up for himself (cleaning counters, fluffing cushions, clearing the dryer of lint even though they hadn’t used it), he had come to the point he could no longer avoid. He moved slowly up the stairs, towards the bedroom you and he were sharing; he stopped halfway up. He could see you through the door, left ajar.  

Your bikini was floral, cutesy, every bit you. The smile formed on his mouth before he had registered the sight. Then it was wiped away because he saw your face: your worried eyebrows, lip caught between your teeth. Your fingers ran over the scars on your thighs; your face turned towards the window, from which point Yoongi knew you could see Namjoon and Suri, already out, lounging. He could see cogs turning in your head, first this way then that.  

And then it wasn’t just the scars. You fussed with the top, fussed with the bottom, turned in the mirror to check yourself from the side, twisted your head around to catch yourself from the back. You ran a hand over your face. You picked up a slip of fabric—some kind of cover-up, a dress?—and held it up against yourself. 

He knew he shouldn’t be spying like this. He wanted to leap the remaining stairs and take you into bed where he would show you exactly what he thought of your body: your perfect, desirable, soft, body that he loved and loved to love. He wanted, briefly, to throw Suri in the lake and hope there were eels because he knew you were still thinking about it: last night.  

He knew that it didn’t matter much what he did because it wasn’t that easy. It wasn’t as easy as being told you were fine. He knew because you told him all the time but he still felt like there was something wrong with him.  

He carried on up the stairs and knocked on the door as he entered. Your face was immediately bright, free from clouds, as clear as the sky outside.  

“Coming outside?” you asked as he moved in closer, couldn’t stop himself kissing you just once, putting all his love into it, however brief, however small. 

“Yeah, just coming. You go ahead.” 

You nodded and skipped out and there was a deep tug in his chest. There was a pit of snakes in his stomach but, fuck it, he’d been bitten before. Everyone out there beside the lake knew him, knew what he was if not in full, lurid detail. He took a deep breath and fished around in the bottom of his bag for the pair of swimming shorts he had bought in a moment of madness and packed because he wanted to make the effort for you. He hadn’t expected to wear them—they were still fully tagged and pristine, ready for refunding—but here he was.  

He hadn’t anticipated the difficulty. He sat for ten minutes at the dining table in the kitchen, willing himself to get up and go outside. His legs weren’t all that bad, not the lower half. No one would care. You’d seen them before anyway. It wasn’t a big deal. He was telling himself all the right things but he couldn’t make himself move because he was thinking about all the people who’d seen him in his grossest state. Thought of the things some of them had said. Thought about their reactions. Thought about yours. Tried to focus on that. Reminded himself that it was you out there and his best friend. Suri was still a question mark but he also thought that she could go fuck herself if she had a problem with it because he was still prepared to fight her for potentially upsetting you. 

“I don’t know. I’ll go and see where he is.” 

Your voice floated over to him and that was it, the alarm call, the deadline reached. He stood from the chair and made himself move with he didn’t know what power.  

“Hey!” you cried, arms outstretched to welcome him as he approached the group. “I was just coming to look for you—thought you might have got lost.” 

He smiled, let you kiss him on the cheek, direct him into a sun lounger, sit down with him on it, not quite in his lap but almost.  

Suri raised a hand in way of a greeting; she was flat on her back, sunglasses on, straps of her bikini tucked away, her tiny body sizzling in the sun. Namjoon sat next to her, under the shade of a parasol, dug out of the cabin’s garage, book in hand. He nodded at Yoongi and kept reading. 

“I’m going to go in the lake,” you said, one hand resting on his calf. “Do you want to come?” 

He was putting all his energy into not looking where you were touching him, not noticing, pretending that this wasn’t the first time for he couldn’t remember how many years that he’d not been fully covered in front of people. He wasn’t sure what his face said, if his mouth said anything at all, but you were standing and holding out your hands for him so he must have said yes, let you lead him to the edge of the water and then jump in.  

The water was colder than he’d expected. He gasped and swallowed a lungful, came up spluttering. He wiped the water from his face and pushed his hair back. He blinked the water from his eyes and each frame brought you closer, until your arms were around his neck and your lips on his.  

“I love you, you know that?” 

He nodded. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I know.” 

Did you? Did you really know the full depth and breadth of it? The way he loved you was desperate and whole. He had loved desperately before, loved anxiously, a long time ago when he still thought it was possible he could be loved. There were times when it terrified him. You terrified him because you loved him and it was impossible. Panic seized him and he wanted to run, run anywhere, get as far away as possible until you and your enormous heart were nowhere to be seen. Then you would call him or you would touch him and the panic disappeared, a low-grade anxiety in its place.  

He hadn’t realised he had given up on it. Before you let him kiss you, before you kissed him back and said things he never believed he would hear, he had retired the idea of being loved. It wasn’t for everyone and it wasn’t for him. He took what he could get and accepted that his lot in life was nothing more. But he met you and it hit him square in the face: that he’d stopped expecting joy. That he was fine because he never expected what he deeply and desperately wanted: to be loved. 

And that’s why you were terrifying. Because he was getting used to you. Getting used to being wanted. Getting used to the idea that he could be wanted. Sometimes he thought he was expecting it. Expecting you to let him in your arms, in your life. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t owed anything, didn’t deserve anything. It was the other way around: he was in debt for everything he had been given by you, for being given you at all. 

* 

They say if you can’t beat them, join them. It was an expression Yoongi was apparently taking very seriously, as he slid his tongue down your torso, fingers already slipping through your lips, sinking deep into your soft, wet hole.  

You were less keen to join Namjoon and Suri in being overheard so you pressed a pillow to your face and moaned into it, still louder than you’d wanted to be. You bit down hard on your lip as your back arched from the bed. Every time, it was an aria performed like a concerto, Yoongi doing the work of a full orchestra suite at once. It was lethal and moving the ease with which he played you and it was somehow never the same twice. Never had anyone spent as much time with his face between your legs and it showed: he had learnt, with apparent ease, seemingly everything about what got you off: had learnt how to do it in a rush, how to take his time, how to make you squirt (a surprise more to you than him), how to edge you until you wanted to die, how to make you come and somehow keep coming. He had, on one unfortunately memorable occasion, given you a charley horse and a third orgasm simultaneously.  

You were approaching your second now, with sweat seeping into the bedsheets, and Yoongi’s tongue laving at your clit, his fingers rocking inside you. It was suffocating with the pillow smothering you, your hot breath making it damp, your breathing thick and swampy so it made you light-headed. You couldn’t have kept any quieter even if you’d be able to try; all your attention and energy fell on the mouth at the apex of your legs and the fingers inside you. An experience so in-body, it almost pushed you all the way out again, like your consciousness was hovering outside your skin, alert and alive, an electrical wire in a puddle of water.  

You came hard and gasped for breath when you pulled the pillow from your face. Yoongi kissed his way back up to you, sticky marks all over your sweat-wet skin. He was damp, too, tiny curls of hair stuck to his forehead, the T-shirt he slept in stuck to his back. You peeled it back, ran your hands over him, were reaching for the waistband of his boxers when he pulled away.  

“I’ll wash up and then make breakfast, sound good?” he asked, climbing out of bed and reaching for trousers. 

The words died in your mouth. You could see that he was hard, see the discomfort in the way he adjusted himself as he dressed; you wished you could see into his brain. It wasn’t the first time, not even the second or third and you didn’t want to have the same conversation again, with another couple in the house, with company. Knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere if you did. Knew he would not fuck you nor would he give you a real reason why not. You rolled onto your side, away from the door and pulled the covers around you, despite the heat, despite the sweat. You lay and you stewed and you wondered just what exactly you were doing wrong. 

* 

You tried to forget about it and it had been easy until you glanced over to see Namjoon swat Suri’s backside with his book, saw her retaliate by squirting water on him from her bottle, saw him pull her down in a tumble that was entirely playful until she kissed him. You turned away because you’d already heard enough, you didn’t need to see their foreplay.  

* 

“Did you guys buy ice-cream?” Suri asked later that evening. 

“No,” you answered. “Do you want some?” 

Suri nodded. 

“Yeah, there’s a shop down the road; I’ll go and get some. Anyone else want any?” 

“I’ll come, too!” 

Suri looked surprised, her mouth open (to put you off), then she shut it and shrugged. 

“Ok.” 

It was quiet, initially, just the soft rush of wind in the tops of the trees and the slight crunch of the gravel track under your feet. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

The rhythm of Suri’s feet faltered and then started smoothly again. Her answer was slow to arrive. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Embarrassment was worming through you, on its way to stifle you, to choke you so the words wouldn’t come out. 

“You and Namjoon have good sex, right?” 

Suri didn’t just falter but stopped completely. She looked at you guardedly, suspicious. You could feel her attempting to put distance between you, even as her feet kept still. 

“Is that... ar-, we’re trying to be quiet,” she answered eventually. 

You laughed not because it was funny but because you were nervous. 

“No, it’s not about that. It's... I mean, you do, right?” 

“Yes.” 

You were stuttering over your next question, not having planned this conversation, not really knowing what you wanted out of it. 

“Don’t you and Yoongi?” Suri asked, beating you to it. 

“We do. Kind of. Yes, but also...” 

Your face was flaming, hot pricks of sweat beading in your scalp at the embarrassment of this, at having to ask someone about your sex life—someone that wasn’t Taehyung anyway—someone who definitely did not want to be having this conversation either. 

“The thing is,” you persevered, “he goes down on me, like a lot. Or not a lot but sometimes, well, often, he...”  

Your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. 

“He goes down on me and then we don’t have sex and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong or why he doesn’t want to fuck me.” 

You let it out in a rush, looking somewhere over Suri’s left shoulder because you couldn’t bear to look at her directly, to see her face reacting. She was quiet for a moment or two and you stewed, boiling in your self-consciousness, steaming with shame.  

“Have you asked him?” 

“Yes, of course! He just says he doesn’t want to or ‘it’s ok’ or that I don’t have to reciprocate or that he’s fine. But I'm not fine! I’m clearly shit at sex! And blowjobs because he doesn’t want those either!” 

And it was the embarrassment, mostly, but you felt tears burn in your eyes, felt your bottom lip wobble and as much as you did not want to have this conversation, you certainly didn’t want to cry during it. 

“Does Namjoon ever...” and you couldn’t finish the question because you knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it. 

“Nah, if he’s even the slightest bit turned on, he’s doing something about it. Well, I'm doing something about it, you know what I mean.” 

You cursed softly, tried to kick at the gravel in your flipflops.  

“I just wish he would tell me what I’m doing wrong so I can fix it.” 

Your embarrassment, bright enough to have burnt away now, had left you sad, miserable in fact, that you couldn’t please your boyfriend and he was being too nice to tell you so. Sad because you couldn’t give him what you wanted to, what he gave you. Miserable that you were failing where you wanted to succeed. 

“Do you ask him directly at the time?” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, look, I’m the last person who should be giving anyone relationship advice of any kind, ok? I really don’t know how to do anything but are you asking him why he doesn’t want to have sex right now, or have you talked about it at a completely unsexy time? Because Namjoon is barely sapient when his dick is hard; his brain is entirely in his crotch.  

“Literally the only thing I have learnt over the last year is that, as horrible as it is, you have to talk about stuff, especially when you don’t want to talk about it. So maybe just talk to him again but- oh, I don’t know! I’m not good at this. But if he’s not given you a proper answer, make him give you one. You should at least know what the problem is, if there even is one, right?” 

You thought about it. Thought about how quickly you let the subject drop, let Yoongi brush you off because you didn’t really want to have the conversation at all, didn’t want to know the answer—or rather you didn’t want to hear Yoongi say it.  

You nodded, thanked her quietly for her help and you walked the rest of the way to the shop in silence. You picked an ice-cream at random and a random one for Yoongi, too, then you walked back. Suri tried to make conversation with you and you were grateful for it, for her. You didn’t know if she liked you, found her impossible to read, and often got the impression that she’d rather be anywhere else, but she was making an effort and it meant something to you. 

* 

“Can I ask you something?” you started timidly as you settled in bed that night. 

“Yeah.” 

You were quiet for a moment and Yoongi frowned, trying to work out what had upset you. You had been quieter than usual all evening and he wondered if Suri had said something to you; you had come back from the shop with two melona ice-creams, which you hated.  

“Am I bad in bed?”  

He blanched. Didn’t really understand the question because you weren't. Not in the slightest. The sex he had with you was as close to perfect as sex could be. He sometimes felt deranged in how much he wanted you, felt dirty for it even, like it somehow besmirched your honour for him to think about you when he touched himself. Like he would contaminate you with his need to have you. It often took all he had in him not to fuck you. 

“What do you mean?” 

Your mouth was pouty and your eyebrows drawn close. You didn’t look angry for which he was grateful, but you were sad and frustrated for which he was not. 

“You go down on me all the time and then we don’t have sex after! You don’t let me reciprocate! I can’t do it better if you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong in the first place!” 

It was like static was fuzzing up his brain. He knew the words but couldn’t understand them coming out of your mouth. He had thought he was doing the right thing. Giving not taking. Or taking only sometimes, but keeping the balance firmly tipped towards you. You always offered because of course you did: you were wonderful and kind and, for reasons he could rarely fathom, you cared about him.  

“Yoongi!” 

In a tone he almost never heard, genuinely annoyed, if also pleading and anxious.  

He blinked, tried to find an answer. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Of course you do! It happened this morning! It happens at least half the time! I don’t understand why you don’t want it.” 

And his heart was suddenly hammering because he could see that he had got it wrong but he wasn’t quite sure how. Colour drained from his face because you were upset, really, genuinely upset and it was his fault and if he could have squashed himself like a bug under his own shoe, he would have.  

He tried to see what he had not seen, what he had missed, what maybe he had ignored. Could only see instead the times before, with other partners, when he’d try to initiate and be rebuffed, when he never asked for anything because he knew he wouldn’t get it anyway and, besides, it was ugly to ask, to want, to demand for something someone else didn’t want to give. He had spent so much time and effort learning his partners’ bodies, trying to make up for everything he lacked. He knew he was good at it. Knew it, was sure of it. Wasn’t he? Was it not enough? Was he still missing something? 

“I do,” he said, voice hushed as though it hurt to say. “I do want it.” 

“Then why do you always brush me off?” 

He felt stripped like old paint. Had to look at you, though the embarrassment was excruciating. 

“I didn’t think you really wanted it.” 

And it sounded stupid when he said it out loud, really stupid, but it was the truth. 

“What?!” 

You really needed to hear him say it again. That he didn’t think you wanted it, even though you had explicitly asked. Even though you had sometimes tried, feebly, to insist.  

“I...” 

But he didn’t say it again, looked as though he couldn’t. Looked as desperate as you felt.  

“Why do you think I would ask, I would offer, if I didn’t want to actually do it?” 

“Because you give. You’re... You’re nice to me.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

And you took a deep breath, tried to blink away the tears, sent them rolling down your cheeks instead.  

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” 

You saw him move, inch away just slightly, and you remembered who you were dealing with. Because he was Yoongi, your Yoongi, and he was warm and soft and sweet and funny and smart and you loved him so much that you forgot sometimes he still hated himself. Saw his denial now not of you but of his own desires. Remembered how long he had spent silently loving you without asking you to so much as hear a confession. Remembered how close you had both come to absolutely nothing at all, his disbelief overpowering his belief and his heart and his hope.  

You could see it from his side. See what he was trying to do, even if it was madness. Even if it was wrong. You could feel him retreat even now, tucking himself back inside his tortoise shell.  

“I’m so-” 

You didn’t let him finish, would not let him apologise. You kissed him, tasted the salt of your own tears between you, leant into him, let your arms wrap around him and pressed your lips to his, to his cheek, to his hairline, to his jaw. 

“Yoongi, I love you.” 

“I know,” he replied, but you weren’t sure if he really did. 

“I’m glad you think I'm such a nice person and everything, but I promise, I’m not offering out of the goodness of my heart. I’m asking because I actually want to. Like, really want to. Like, really enjoy myself and want you to enjoy yourself and want us to both enjoy ourselves together, y’know?” 

He nodded, couldn’t quite hold your gaze.  

“I’m serious. You need to know that I want to fuck you, ok?” 

And you laughed, though you were trying not to, even if it did feel a little ridiculous, having to convince your boyfriend that you wanted to have sex. 

He nodded again. 

“You promise I’m not a bad lay?” 

And you watched his face flick through shock and outrage and a kind of disbelief that become laughter.  

“You are not a bad lay, I promise.” 

“And what about blowjobs?”  

“Also good.”  

“You promise?” 

And you sat yourself in his lap, legs straddling his hips, sinking yourself low, pressing against him. 

“I promise.” 

“What if I say you have to prove it?” 

His head cocked to the side, playful, squinting at you, and you didn’t think that it was over, that he was suddenly convinced now, but with the burden of Being Terrible at Sex lifted off you, you felt not only lighter, but the deep, heavy, familiar drag of desire raise its head. 

“Prove it?” 

You shifted your hips again, deniably but definitely, and put your lips to his ear. 

“Prove that you like it when I suck your cock.” 

His hands gripped you tightly; you felt the bob in his throat when he swallowed as you pressed kisses down his neck and a stirring in his boxers that you sank even lower to press yourself against. 

“I’ll prove it if you prove that you like it when I fuck you.” 

“Deal.” 

* 

You were late up that next morning and Namjoon greeted you both from the back porch. 

“Hey, a little request: could you maybe be louder when you fuck? Suri and I are actually sleeping a little too well.” 

[lovelettersforthedamned]

craving some angst with fluff at the end or like hurt/comfort with peter because im delusional and like to imagine them in my head and in the end it makes us stronger as a couple (i have no idea what im talking about rn) - 🎀

Fight For You

✮ tasm!peter parker x f!reader

✮ word count: 1.9k

✮ summary: when you find peter battered, bruised, and barely hanging onto life, you make a rash decision to help him in a fight against vulture. when you get hurt, your mind brings you to a place of guilt.

✮ warnings: language, violence, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a few kisses, reader overthinks.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main masterlist ⋆ peter parker masterlist

not my gif

The crowd around you couldn’t have been more packed. You’re pushing against the flow of people pushing past you, trying to flee from the scene before you. Any normal person would. But as your boyfriend starts to limp his way towards Vulture, you begin to shove yourself towards him. 

Before he left, he gave you a quick kiss and pleaded for you not to follow him. He knew you were safer in your apartment, but of course, you didn’t remain in the safety of your home. You held your phone tight as you scrolled through the live news, tracking down the focal point of the action. That’s where you find yourself standing at a barricade, watching your Peter clutch his side, barely rising to his feet. 

You have an iron grip on your phone, your knuckles turning white as you fight the urge to hop over the metal. Police cars line in front of you, acting as a second line of defense. Their guns are drawn, focused on Vulture as he towers over your boyfriend. Peter is exhausted, you can tell by the sway in his movements. And when the winged man knocks him to the floor, your eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and a quiet plea leaves your lips, “Please, Peter. Get up, get up.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you open them back up, and you wish you didn’t. Peter is still on the floor lying face down as Vulture laughs, walking towards Peter. The urge to shout after him almost escapes your lips before you realize your surroundings, your words stuck in your throat. 

With the crowd now clear behind you, you feel isolated. Your focus is entirely on Peter, your eyes never leaving his body. Peter is trying to push himself off the ground, but before he succeeds, Vulture plants his claw on his back, keeping him in place on the pavement under him. “No,” you couldn’t hold back the words from escaping this time. Jumping over the barricade, you barely make it another step forward before two police officers hold you back. “Get up! Please, Spider-Man,” you yell, catching both men’s attention. 

“It looks like Spider-Man has a fan!” Vulture turns your head towards you, another full belly erupts from his stomach. You’re thrashing against the hold of the officers beside you while the others stand up straighter at the pivot of the bird’s attention, guns drawn. 

You couldn’t care less for the outcome of your actions, you needed Peter to be alright, and if this is what it takes. Then so be it. 

The moment Vulture’s foot is lifted off of Peter’s back, you take a breath before it’s stolen away from you again. He’s starting to walk towards you, his eyes trained on you as he approaches. The police begin to fire. The bullets don’t penetrate the metal suit, instead, they fall at his feet. 

“You have balls, I’ll admit. But you are incredibly stupid, sweetie,” the officers who were once at your side are now shoved to the ground before he reaches for your throat. His grip tightens when he lifts you off the ground, bringing you to where Peter lies. You’re trying to pry his claws off of you, but in response he squeezes tighter, drawing blood from the sharpened talons of his gloves. 

He examines your face before throwing you on the floor next to Peter, landing on your back. You cough before turning to face your boyfriend’s masked face. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. Reaching up to your throat, you touch the indents on your neck. They’re not too deep, but the blood rushing down your neck makes you lightheaded. And when you glance at your fingers, you sigh when you see red. 

Your eyes flutter, oh shit. You bring your hand back to your neck, applying pressure like Peter taught. “Baby–Baby, hey,” he says your name before groaning as he pushes himself closer to you, “you gotta stay awake, okay?” 

You barely nod, as you wince at the pain, the adrenaline leaving your system; leaving you with the reality of your injuries. “Do you know her, Spidey? No wait,” he pauses, putting the pieces together, “That’s your lady, isn’t it?” 

Fuck. He’s figured you out. You groan loudly, “Wow, captain obvious. Do you have anything else you want to share? Maybe the sky is blue?” You laugh at yourself, the signs of blood loss showing. Turning your head towards Peter again, you smile, “Kick his ass, Pete.”

A second wind comes to Peter when he hears your backtalk towards Vulture. A little reminder that you could very well handle yourself, but the sight of your blood appearing on your hands lit a flame of anger within him. He pushes himself up with haste, he turns to look at you one more time, “Don’t close those eyes!” And in response, you wave your other hand at him.

He makes sure to push the fight far away from you, his senses throwing him into overdrive as he focuses on your heartbeat while throwing punches. If you were willing to throw yourself into a fight defenseless for him, Peter knew he was guaranteed to defend you from death’s grasp. 

✯✯✯

You could’ve sworn you only blinked, but the change in scenery caused a wave of confusion to flood your senses. You were in a hospital room, and the smell of the sterile atmosphere along with the cold white lights above you made your head spin. But still, you take a deep breath as you look around. Your body relaxes at the sight of Peter leaning into his hand, his body awkwardly sitting as he sleeps. 

There is a dryness in your throat that makes you wince, you try to clear your throat to call out to Peter, but what comes out is a pathetic-sounding wheeze of air. You rasp, “Peter.” Repeating yourself for the second time, his eyes fly open, his heightened senses picking up on your call for him. 

He rushes to your side, grabbing your hand softly as he looks down at you, a look of worry apparent in his eyes. You can see his gaze flicker down to your neck, and as you reach up to touch it, he speaks, “I brought you here right after I finished with Vulture. That was about 2 days ago, bug.” He sniffles, he’s trying to hide his emotions as he’s holding back tears. “There was just,” he pauses, his throat tightens, “there was so much blood.” 

Your heart breaks at the sight of him in front of you. He won’t let go of your hand as he breaks down in tears. You push yourself to the other side of the small bed, leaving a space for Peter to join you. Tugging on his hand, you clear your throat again, hoping that this attempt at talking is more successful than the last time. “Pete,” your hoarse voice cracks to life, “lay with me. Please.” 

He carefully lays down beside you, making the already small hospital bed feel even tighter. His cheek was squished against your shoulder while his arms snaked around your torso. You both needed this after the week you’ve experienced. Peter thought he was going to lose you, and you know that pain. So having the roles reversed pulled at your heartstrings. 

A part of you felt guilty. You were the one that gave Peter a reason to worry. Maybe he just needed another moment to get up during the fight. You couldn’t help but think that you were reckless; just another burden for Peter to carry, especially when you throw yourself into danger like that. While laying in bed with him, you nuzzle into him a little more, trying to hide the tears that are threatening to spill past your lash line. 

How could I be so stupid?

Your ear can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. The pattern somehow makes your guilt feel worse. Maybe it’s because of your uneven breathing, or maybe the wetness on Peter’s shirt, but he pulls his head back, craning it down at you. And when he sees you trying to conceal your quiet sobs, his hands are immediately on the sides of your face. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you cry, “I’m an idiot for running to you like that. I made everything ten times worse!” You’re hysterical. You can’t stop the tears that rush down your cheeks, landing into Peter’s palms. 

You made Peter’s biggest fear come true. 

And for that, you couldn’t apologize enough. “Hey, hey, hey,” he gently says your name, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. He tries to pull you back to reality, grounding you in any way he can. His eyes are searching for yours behind your tears. “Baby,” he starts, “you’re incredibly selfless, I knew that since the moment I met you. You would go to the ends of the earth for a stranger if you could. That’s just who you are, and I’d be evil to ask you to change that about you.” 

You were able to take a breath, trying to calm yourself down. Peter’s kind words eased your overthinking, causing a wave of embarrassment to wash over you. You felt stupid for an entirely different reason. You knew that Peter would never be too angry at you for doing what you thought was best for him, but it still affected you in an unfathomable way. “I love you,” you wipe your damp eyes before looking into his. 

Peter grins before pressing a smiley kiss into your lips. You take a deep breath as your lips meet, a wave of euphoria floods your senses. If there was one thing Peter could do, it was make you feel like a teenage girl all over again. He filled your stomach with butterflies every time he kissed you.

Pulling away, you smile back at him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this stupid cramped bed,” you look around, “and while we’re at it, I hate hospitals.” Peter laughs at your sudden discomfort with the surroundings. “Wait,” you pause, looking at him, “did you take me here in your suit?”

“Is that really what you want to know right now? Not how I absolutely destroyed Vulture?”

“Mmm, no,” you laugh. 

He shakes his head at you, giggling, “Yeah, I brought you here in my suit. Figured it was faster than an ambulance.” Your eyes are moving, as you piece together the story before groaning. Peter’s extremely confused at the sounds coming out of your mouth, he playfully shoves your shoulder, “What’s wrong now?”

You sigh, “I wish I could’ve seen everyone’s faces when Spider-Man carried a girl bleeding from her neck in here.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. He lifts himself off the bed, not before you stop him, a pouty look on your face. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get out of here,” he lowers his head to whisper in your ear, “I think we have like ten minutes before someone will notice you’re missing.” Peter grabs your clothes, and tosses it to you, “Let’s get you home, bug.”

✮ author's note: hi all!!! just a little hurt/comfort to spice up your tuesday night! i had a blast writing this because im a sucker for hurt/comfort and angst:p. thank you to the lovely 🎀 anon for this request! my asks/inbox is open!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you see something you like.

[halaboyz]

spice and everything nice, seonghwa

ceo! ateez seonghwa x gn, employee! reader fluff wc: 11.4k warnings: rather detailed description of food and eating, ALL OVER THE PLACE ! not my best work but my best efforts though a/n: rrAAAAHHH i think this is my first time trying this trope?? lmao anw its inspired by a lot of scenes in kdrama 'dreaming of a freaking fairytale'! giving lots of my gratitude to my one and only ducky 4 deciding with me (which... ended up with spin the wheel) @ricsang !! ilysm <3

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to move out as soon as... tomorrow morning." Your landlord drops the bomb, and leaves you without a second glance, leaving you with a piece of dismissal paper and a list of your unpaid dues.

You gawk, closing the door behind you helplessly as your eyes wander around your flat, eye twitching at the sudden— is it really sudden— news with your head still hazy from the sunlight.

Sighing, your fingers quickly call your friend, your one and only, already placing a default smile on your face, although he won't see it. "My lovely, most gorgeous, kindest, prettie—,"

"What the fuck do you want so early in the morning?" Wooyoung growls through the line, and you hear his bed sheets as he probably twists and turns from his bed.

"Clear your lawn." Your default smile drops, "I'm moving in your lawn for a few days. I'll be there by lunch,"

You don't even wait for his answer before you drop the call, finally washing up to start and clean up the flat you've been living in for years, and been leeching off for months already.

"I cannot, for the life of me, absolutely believe you." Wooyoung stares at you in bewilderment, movers working behind you as they drop your boxed things in his lawn.

"I cannot absolutely believe how broke I am too, thank you very much. Do you have food? I'm starving. I spent my last on the moving company," You comfortably made your way through his house, immediately going to the kitchen and found his mom's kimchi lying in the counter.

"Don't touch anything, I'll just make you lunch," Wooyoung sighs, while you hop into the high chair, watching Wooyoung move around his territory. "Come on, y/n, just ask your family for some money. They're your family, of course they'll need to help with your masters fees. You've been LOA for what, almost a year now!"

"Look, Mr. Right," You take a gulp of water, "My family is not like yours, all mighty and well that you even have a house of your own while you take your masters, no dues, no bills." You state as a matter of fact, but take no offense of his opinions, picking on the nuts he provided you snack on while he cooks. "My family's already struggling as they are."

"So why take masters? Why not just go and work already?"

"Because they wanted it, too. I helped start my masters with some fees with my part time job, which unfortunately fired me because I ate one of their expired food, and then lived far away so they wouldn't worry much about me." You explained, and he sighs. He's sad he can't do anything to help you lighten your burden, which is why he lets you stay in his house with him.

Of course you had conscience. You insisted to stay in his lawn because you had a tent and a sleeping bag, but Wooyoung was a loyal friend after all. After a little more insisting from Wooyoung and his mom which he called for help, you and Wooyoung had finally agreed until you've found yourself some decent job.

"Don't your company have some free space?" You pout, looking through your laptop's screen for a whole hour now trying to find a job.

"Even if there was, I can't get you in there," Wooyoung sing sung, scrolling through his phone on your bed, lying in his tummy.

"Why? They're that strict?" You squint, facing him.

"The CEO himself handles who goes in and out of his company. Directly. Don't know what goes in that cold head of his," He shrugs, and faces you. "But it doesn't hurt to try. Your degree lines up with mine so they could consider you without a doubt. You also have a high GWA so,"

You nod, knowing there's nothing going to hurt when you try. You've been handing over a hundred resumes for hundreds of companies, what's one more, right?

"Oh my god," You barge into Wooyoung's room one evening, and thankfully he was only lying in his bed, "I got scheduled for an interview at your company tomorrow!"

"For real?" Wooyoung shoots up as he looks at the email on your phone, "It's real..." Wooyoung whispers, and stifles a chuckle. "Be at your fucking best tomorrow, you're getting head on with a fucking bull."

Well, Wooyoung mentioned a bull. But he didn't say that bull was the CEO himself, Park Seonghwa.

Park Seonghwa, consistently chosen as number one for consecutive years already as continuously rising businessman in the fashion industry by different newsletters and publications such as Vogue, GQ, Esquire, Arena Homme, of the many.

He sits in front of you all elegant and mighty, while you sit there almost wanting out with how he gazes at you. You feel so small in front of him, and feel like Wooyoung just dumped you into a hell hole.

But thinking of your situation, this wasn't a time where you feed your ego away to the birds. It was a desperate time, not only for you but also for your family. So you set your embarrassment aside, heading face on with the bull, as Wooyoung adviced.

"You're applying for?" It was like elegance and superiority was oozing out of his lips when he talked. Having a one on one interview with one of the living legends of the fashion industry was making you shake to your toes, goosebumps all over your body.

"Either marketing strategy or marketing secretary, if I may, sir." You confidently reply, straightening your back. Right. It was a time to be arrogant of your skills.

"Without experience, at that," Seonghwa scoffs, and tosses your file to the table. You almost swoon at how he sounds, but quickly shake your head to reality. "You may leave."

"I am quite the ambitious person, sir. And I have my experience. As an intern, you'll see it by the third page," You ignore his last order, sitting still in your chair.

"Which has been five years, and if I may add, at an already closed, blacklisted company," You didn't get to think about that. which almost crumbles your confidence down. but you stand your guard. "Leave."

"Let me prove my skills for a week. Just a week. Whatever tasks you give me, let me prove it." From all the companies that has accepted your almost empty resume that only consisted of academic achievements but zero experiences, you were quite— desperate by a lot.

Seonghwa scoffs again, crosses his legs and leans back to his chair.

"A day." Seonghwa offers, smirking. "Attract ten investors tomorrow, within the day and I'll even accept you to be my direct secretary." Seeing your dumbfounded face was something he found funny, because it was a funny offer, after all. "It's a take it or leave it offer. That's so much time I can offer to a candidate only,"

"We have a deal, then." When he hears your determined voice, he internally scoffs. You keep throwing him out of his zone, being the first one to do that. He raises an eyebrow in interest, letting him know for the last time that you had agreed to his offer for tomorrow.

"Was that a bad idea?" You almost cry to Wooyoung, thinking you're only walking right into the trap of embarrassing yourself.

"I don't want to pop your bubble but... absolutely." Wooyoung gives you a wry smile, patting your shoulder. "The company's been having a hard time getting new investors for a few months now, I think it's due to less and less creatives coming out. That's also why his secretary suddenly quit and signed with a rival company. Thinks it's the start of the downfall of Park Enchante."

You dramatically fall on your knees, losing all hope for yourself.

"I can't believe I just said those to the Park Seonghwa..." You almost whisper, "...who you didn't tell me is your CEO!" You point out when you suddenly remember, jumping to strangle him.

"I didn't get to?" He slyly tries to get out of your room in a hurry, but you immediately grab his jacket.

"You don't understand! He's a living legend! Did you know he's the youngest CEO who has established his own brand? Do you have any idea how much he's earned just a month after he established his company? How lovely his first works were? My god! I could go on and on!"

"It's not my fault that you didn't know his company name!" He struggles out of your reach, trying to calm you down. "And I'm not down bad for fashion like you are! I'm just someone who works at the company! Also, why apply for marketing, you literally have a god-given talent at styling and creating!" Wooyoung blurts out, and it makes you pout.

"I don't draw and sew shit anymore, Woo." You roll your eyes, plopping to the couch. "It's been years, come on now, let it go! I'm majoring in marketing now so goodbye creatives,"

"y/n, you were so good at that, you were even thinking of starting of making your own brand! Why didn't you push through with it anyway,"

"I didn't think I would earn from it anyway. And starting it would cost so much. Don't worry about it, hands were rusty anyway. I wasn't confident with my own works, too." The atmosphere glooms and you take responsibility for it, clapping and taking a sharp breath. "Anyway! Better be ready for tomorrow. You should go rest, I'll be readying files for tomorrow."

"You got the files?"

"Easily. With permission from your great CEO, the temp secretary gave all out to me at once." You sigh, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have 10 clients to meet tomorrow,"

"Holy shit, I can't get used to these big ass revolving doors," You whisper, and determinedly let out a huff as you admire the big Park Enchante blaring on top of the doors. "I'm getting you in my resume." You nod in commitment, patting your chest to cheer yourself up. But before you even take a step in, three consecutive cars rush in the front of the company, and you stop to see in curiosity.

People rush out of the two cars behind, one opening the car door of the first car.

There he was, so elegant and flashy, coming out of the car with his sunglasses on. Another held an umbrella up for him but he immediately takes it with him, shooting the butler a small smile.

It was the first time you see him smile. You never see him smile. In person (from yesterday's experience), online, whatever paper you see him on, he never smiles. Always that poker face, sleek, straightened-back, poised and just pure... elegance.

"Wow. He's so handsome," You curse through gritted teeth, unconsciously holding your breath as you watch him make his way inside. "He couldn't have seen me, right?" That was a surge of shame running down your veins.

It was rich coming from you that you even had the guts to apply to a company like this.

He wouldn't mind if you wouldn't show up for your deal, right?

"Right." You nod, heels turning around as you make up your mind not to show, gripping your coat and stepping away from the big doors.

Before you're stopped by closed, long, black umbrella.

"May I ask where you're going?" Seonghwa, the almighty himself, now without his sunglasses presents by your side, holding the umbrella up to your waist to stop you.

"Hi." You awkwardly chuckle, "I uh, umm," You think of an excuse, sighing. "Going for coffee. Before going in," You smile in default.

"Ah. Five minutes before supposed time in," He checks his watch, and then at you. "I do not condone late comers. And, coffee's provided in the lobby. Why go for a mile walk if you can get it here,"

"Ha. I didn't know that."

"You're pulling back from the deal." He stated as a matter of fact, taking the umbrella down.

"Why would I for a once in a lifetime offer," You chuckle, shaking your hand in front of him. "I need money to save my life, why would I," Being sarcastic doesn't even go through him.

"Get ready in ten. I'm coming with,"

"What?" You blurted out, face contorted into something... desperate. When Seonghwa turns around to look you in the eye once again. He raises his brow at your reaction, and you immediately fall into a default smile once again. "I mean, you're the CEO. Why would you need to come with,"

"I don't think you've heard," He sighs, confidently stepping towards you. "I'm in a quite desperate situation right now. And I can't quite trust an unskilled candidate employee to go alone with my files."

You inhale sharply as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, stepping towards him as well.

"I'll prove my skills, then." You confidently crane your neck, facing him head on with another challenge. "I'll get employed, get my skillful ass paid, and get out of your company. I'll bet you'll beg on your knees to not let me resign?" You shrug, waiting for his rebut.

He chuckles incredulously, tucking his hands in his pockets. And then he nods, taking your statement seriously.

"I'll be waiting for that day,"

And it wasn't even half the meeting for the first client to see how skillful you were. The way you communicated, the way how you had managed to study all about his company through the files he had provided, and how easily you gave your beautiful smile.

Oh that beautiful smile is what scammed him in this deal in the first place. Although he knew it was sarcastic and far from the real one, he liked it. How you showed confidence, how you were ambitious, how honest you were, how you showed no fear of the high figure in front of you.

It was fresh to see in the industry.

Before he even shoots back to reality, you were done with your first client in thirty minutes. Hopping back to the seat two tables away to observe you after the client has gone, Seonghwa swiftly turns his gaze toward you.

"How was it? Did you fail already?" Seonghwa blinks, but you just open the file folder to present to him, falling flat at the table, signed.

"Promptly, the successful second client meeting will be in another ten minutes, at the hotel next door. Let's get moving, my dear CEO." You smiled, closing the folder and waving it at him.

It wasn't even long before you had finished eight more clients. Seonghwa had stayed silent, only tailing on you and continuously giving you additional information you asked for.

While talking with your last client, your eyes moved to him as he rest his elbow on the armrest of the couch he was sitting on. His eyelids were falling with his chin in his palm, legs crossed. It looked very uncomfortable, making you quicken the pace of the last meeting.

"Thank you very much. We'll contact you once again for future meetings and appointments. I appreciate you coming in person." You bid your farewell, watching him thank and smile at you, shaking hands before going his own way.

When he's out of sight, you made your way quietly two tables away where Seonghwa sat solemnly, sitting in front of him. When he feels it was too... quiet, his eyes finally open to see you sitting in front of him, reading more files he had handed out.

"Ten over ten clients signed. What do you think about that?" You arrogantly shook non-existent dust on your shoulders, leaning back on the chair.

Seonghwa chuckles, scooting to a more proper posture. "You're hired from the first client itself. Saw how you do, saw your potential. Nine more clients were a bonus. Quite impressive, I have to give you that."

"You're beautiful when you smile. Why don't you do it more often?" You scoff, making him squint his eyes at you. "Thank you, sir." You smile, that always default smile. Seonghwa still likes it, though. "I'll treat dinner, follow me. You must be tired." You offer to your huge CEO, gaining ego and confidence now.

"Follow where? We're already at a hotel, we can just eat here." Seonghwa looks around, confused. "And I think you've come to grow a little comfortable with me too much, secretary."

"One, you think my wallet can handle a five-star hotel restaurant?"

"Then you can let me pay for dinner." You shush him sharply, glaring.

"Two, its beyond working hours. You wanted to go with me so I'm giving you the chance of being treated by a broke person. You wanted to go with me so it is not my fault that I can't keep being polite and straight up sucking up all day with you." You ramble, reasoning your hunger for it. When he raises his brow, you press your lips to a thin line. "...Sir."

He scoffs, until he lets you lead the way on where to eat. You lead him to a small grilling house near your neighborhood, coming in like it's already your home.

"Oh, you're with someone new today? Where's Wooyoung?" The owner welcomed you, leading you to a free table.

"Please don't tell him I dined here tonight," You scrunch your nose, patting Seonghwa to let him sit. "We'll take Set B, with a plus of two beers," You smile, and watch the owner hop away after winking at you.

He hesitates, seeing how molds were forming at the corner of the walls.

"Humble setting." Seonghwa mumbles, still looking around in awe. His face scrunches when he sees cobwebs in his side of wall, flinching.

"What, you want to switch?" You chuckle, looking at him in disbelief.

"Yes, please." Seonghwa immediately stands up and almost pushes you out of your seat, making you scoff in disbelief.

"This is the best grilling house in town. Haven't you at least heard of it? This ambience makes the food even better and here you are scrunching your beautiful face."

"I've never been to such... humble place," Seonghwa doesn't even look at you. He keeps looking around, as if he was there to scan the place for more cobwebs or worse. "Can't we eat at a more proper place?"

Just at the right timing, the tray was set rather angrily in the table, which made the both of you two jump. The owner scowls at Seonghwa, taking what he said as an insult.

"I think i might just prefer the loud one than a classy one," The owner rolls her eyes before leaving, eyes still glaring at Seonghwa as she does.

You chuckle as you notice Seonghwa stunned in his seat, looking like a kid who just got scolded.

"I'm betting my everything you'll love the food here." You ready your chopsticks, and with your other hand, start grilling the pork and beef. You expertly moved both hands simultaneously, the other mixing the sizzling stir-fried squid while Seonghwa watched you in awe, for the nth time today.

He just finds you interesting.

When finished, you put a mouthful on top of his rice and urged him to take a bite, giddy on your toes to see how he would react.

"Go ahead," You nod, waiting for him. He looks at you and the food suspiciously, and then around. God just please let it be edible. Seonghwa thinks, before finally picking up his spoon and letting the weird thing in his mouth.

You watch him as his suspicious eyes turned into wide ones, urgently taking another sweep of food. You chuckle, smiling proudly and taking your own portion. You began to eat quietly, only observing how the both of you finished in thirty minutes when you and Wooyoung usually finish the set in an hour and a half.

"Looks like you were hungry." You smile, looking at him finish his last bite.

"I mean, wow," He wipes his mouth elegantly with the tissue, tapping his tummy. "That was the most I've eaten for months," He was unlike the CEO who has been uptight and poised the whole time, but rather a kid who had just discovered his now new favorite food and restaurant.

He looks around and finds the owner still glaring at him but did he care? No. He raises two thumbs up and mouths a wow, pointing at a squeaky clean tray and grill. The owner only lets out a scoff, shaking her head.

"It looks like it's your first time eating like this, what life were you living?" You embarrassingly whisper, pushing his hands down.

"It is." Seonghwa mumbles, gulping down the glass of beer. "You see, I've always gone to fine hotels and restaurants and I didn't have the leisure to go around small towns so,"

You coo in disappointment, "You're just in the tip of the iceberg, then," You chuckle. "Let me pour you a glass. To thank you for employing me," You offer the can of beer, waiting for him to offer his own glass. When he does, he gets the can and waits for you to offer yours.

"To my new secretary," He raises his glass, and you smile.

"To my new CEO,"

"God..." You mumble, getting the hair out of your face as sunlight hits you. "My head fucking hurts..."

You grumble, throwing the comfortable sheets over your head and cuddling the warm pillow beside you.

Wait, sunlight?

And a warm pillow beside you? For all you know, your bed in Wooyoung's house only fitted your own body. And there was only a little window that sunlight doesn't even touch your bed.

This wasn't Wooyoung's house. You open one eye to inspect, your eyebrows meeting the first thing in the morning.

"Oh my god." You whisper, hand flying to your mouth to shut the fuck up.

It wasn't a warm pillow. It was a body.

Scratch that, your new boss' body.

You did not just sleep in one bed with your boss. You were still in denial when you slowly took the sheets off of you, sneaking out of bed.

You take a glance to make make sure if it was indeed your boss, taking the sheets that covered his face too.

You gasp, confirming it when his face becomes clear, sleeping sweetly and tightly. You mock cry, hitting your head as you get your purse and your shoes, tippy toeing out of the pension he owned. At least you were both still fully clothed.

You just pray to the gods no one saw you.

You remember getting hellbent drunk with beers last night, calling a designated driver to drive the both of you home with Seonghwa's car. Apparently, you had asked the driver to wait for you while you walked an almost sleepwalking, drunk Seonghwa to his flat and to his room, but he only had a waiting time of thirty minutes so when you didn't show up, he parked the car and left.

When you got to his flat, you threw him to his bed as he cradled his own blanket. His bed looked so comfortable and you swore that you were just going to try lying on it for five minutes.

That five minutes turned into the whole night.

"Where the hell did you stay?!" Wooyoung welcomes you, hitting your shoulder. "What happened? Did you get the job? Why do you have a bedhair? Where did you sleep?"

"I got the job! I have ten minutes to get ready so I'll answer all your questions later. Wait for me!"

It was one whole hell of a story to tell when Wooyoung's the recipient. He keeps on talking backin the middle, talk shit about his boss and how proud he is of you for finally landing a job- the direct secretary of the CEO at that.

"Good morning, sir." You shamelessly greet, handing him a cup of coffee while you tailed him to his huge office.

"Well aren't you very polite now," Seonghwa takes a seat in his office chair, leaning his head back and eyebrows met in between due to the aching head he had after waking up with an alarm.

"I have to keep my job now, don't I?" You smile, the default one you always held. "Would you prefer a hot coffee? I can make you one right now," You offer, heading to the side of the coffee maker in his office to make one for him.

"I drank too much last night I don't remember a thing. Did you get home safe?" Seonghwa's voice was laced with worry, watching your back.

You chuckle nervously, slightly trembling as you make your way to him with his cup of coffee. Careful not to spill it, you put it on his desk.

"Of course I did! Haha!" You reply, clapping even. "I had so much fun, I didn't even get drunk so I was able to go home," When you see Seonghwa nod, you internally sigh in relief. Clasping your hands, you smile again. "Please give me something to do now, dear CEO. This is the day I've been waiting for,"

"Oh yeah?" Seonghwa held a devious smile, standing up from his seat and walking up to a tall shelf of files and files and files. He picks, one, two, three, four, five thick documents and hands them to you all at once, making you stumble on your feet. "I need reports of these documents by tonight. And if ever I need you, I'm ringing this bell. Have you introduced yourself to everybody? Make sure you're getting along with everyone. With your attitude, I think you're going to need it." Seonghwa taps the top document in your hands, making his way to his seat back again.

He feigns ignorance by raising his brows, as if asking you what had you stunned on your place.

"I think I'll do just fine, Mr. Park. Shouldn't take advice from yours truly now, should I?" You smile, difficulty making your way out of his office.

After settling on your large table, you sat comfortably on your seat.

"Wow. Okay, this is really happening." You whisper, in awe of your own table, own nameplate, and the pile of work you're about to do. "I'm doing it. I'm working," You whisper in disbelief, internally screaming and punching the air continuously for about a minute before slapping yourself back to reality, starting your work.

In the other side of the window, Seonghwa watched you in amazement, chuckling. Such a peculiar attitude you had, it kept him in his toes.

"Done!" Not even three hours in, you had barged in his office, putting his files back to his table.

"That's a day's worth of work of a secretary. What do you mean you're done?" Seonghwa had his CEO mode on, making you politely smile. He began to run through the files, analyzing your work.

Peculiar, and good at work.

"That's a day's worth? What secretaries have you been having?" You furrow your brows, skeptic. "I'm just naturally good at work. I told you, you won't regret hiring me. Is there something more I should do?" You smile, waiting for him to finish scanning your work.

"Incredible. You may now go home," Seonghwa nods in acknowledgement, and you crane your neck. "What?"

"...That's it?"

"Well, I don't have any more meetings schedules today, don't I?" Seonghwa confirms, setting the files in the side with a sigh. When you nod, he nods as well. "There's your answer. You can now go home."

"It's not even twelve noon, though?" You question, taking a double look at your watch. "Give me work worth of my pay, I'll feel guilty if you let me do that alone," You demand, even offered your hand to him.

He chuckles, "That's what good workers get. Early leaves." Seonghwa just looks at you with a smile, but you only pout, looking at your offered hands. You still wait for him, and he finally looks around. "I really don't have anything else for you to do though..."

"Then we can't do anything about that," You disappointingly lower your hands, finally bidding goodbye and thanking him for today. "You can call my phone number if you need anything. Please make sure I have a lot to do tomorrow," You chuckle, heading to the door. You hear him chuckle before you closed the doors behind you, heading to the marketing department. "Woo!"

"Oh, you're here," Wooyoung exclaims, side-hugging you and leading you to his table. He was about to leave for lunch break. "What do you mean you're done?"

"He said he gave me a day's worth of work. And he really didn't ring the bell so no one disturbed me so," You explained, bored. "I really don't have anything to do now."

"You can help me with mine," Wooyoung slyly offers, making you squint your eyes.

"No thanks. This is a blessing, I guess," You take a bite of your lunch, while Wooyoung delves into his. He looked more in a rush than you, since he still had work to do. "Can I ask you something?"

"Aren't you already asking?" Wooyoung's childish remark makes you roll your eyes.

"What time does Seonghwa usually leave work?"

"For what, you're going to tail him?"

"Wooyoung," You grunt, slapping his arm.

"I don't know. You should ask the security. We all leave before him. I've never seen him leave work before us unless he's been out since noon for meetings and events and such,"

You nod, finally letting Wooyoung eat in peace. After you're both done, you let Wooyoung get back by himself to his department as you head to the entrance security, asking around. Only to find out that he usually leaves late at night, from nine to even midnight.

You pout, checking your phone. He hasn't really texted you anything he needed or called you for something, and it's just two in the afternoon.

"Maybe he's just cutting me some slack since it's my first day. I should just take it," You breathe out, heading out of the office with your things.

You were wrong. It's been two whole weeks and you've constantly been getting early leaves because you finish early. And Seonghwa has not been giving you more work unless needed- but still, you were able to complete and finish it earlier than expected.

"I can't keep doing this," You pout. "Another early leave? Aren't there more works to do? Reports? Client appointments to make? You're just going to make me leave again? Can't you just make me clean your whole office? Make you coffee? Anything?" You ramble, feeling guilty.

"That's not a secretary's work," He snorts, standing up. He stretches his upper body and you can't seem to tear your eyes off of him while he does so, reminiscing how warm he felt that one morning. You shake your head to reality when you realize he's working towards you, holding your shoulders.

"Come on, I have four more hours before my shift ends!" You protest, but he only twists your body to face the door, and leave you out of it.

"Your work's done, y/n. Thank you for today, I'll see you tomorrow." He softly smiles, and you're out of the door. You face him, almost pleading. He softly shoos you away, and the door is closed.

You throw a simple tantrum outside his door, feeling bored two minutes after your work was done. And just like clockwork, whenever you're done for work, you come to the marketing department to cause chaos in Wooyoung's table while he worked.

You even fell asleep beside him.

Meanwhile Seonghwa, an hour after shooing you, peeked outside to see if you've gone home, and seeing you gone, he chuckles to himself. If you were going to go home anyway, why were you even giving him an earful?

"God, you're so adaptive. You sleep anywhere," Wooyoung shakes you awake, and he's standing up with his things. "Should we go home? It's nearing dinner,"

"Oh..." You stretch, checking your watch. "You go ahead, I'll check on my boss first and see if he needs anything," You pat his arms, "I'll text you," When Wooyoung nods, you give yourself another stretch before heading to the elevators, bumping into hundreds of workers about to go home. At the highest level, there were three or four workers left that were already fixing their things.

"Excuse me, hi." You stop one of them, "Has Mr. Park eaten?"

"I don't think he has," They ponder, "I don't think I saw him gone out of his office after the last meeting before you left. That's it."

After thanking them and letting them go their way, you peek at the big windows to see Seonghwa still working, the brightness of the computer screen blaring at his face.

"He's so handsome," You admire for a minute, before going your way.

Seonghwa scratches his eyes as he heaves a deep breath, standing up from his seat after a while. He walks around, stretching here and there, and then standing up before the glass windows to see the view outside. The city was now in its rush hour, lights living up. Seonghwa almost jumps when he hears a knock, head whipping towards the door.

"y/n?" He squints, confirms it was you when you smile and make your way in. "What are you still doing here? I thought you left?"

"I didn't. I was too guilty to do so," You chuckle, getting the rolling tray table to the side. "I was waiting for you to call or text but I get nothing. What a work," You shake your head, and you reveal a plastic of lunchbox. "I was told you never left your office. So I'm guessing breakfast was what you last ate. Apart from that, hundreds of coffee and your unbelievably expensive chocolate candies you have in your refrigerator,"

Seonghwa almost hops at the sight of food, getting his chair and ready to dig in. It was a scrumptious meal, making Seonghwa exclaim in happiness.

"This is from that restaurant, isn't it?" Seonghwa says in between bites, gulping down the food. You chuckle, nodding. "I missed it. Thank you for bringing it for me," Seeing Seonghwa eat so deliciously makes you smile, admiring him once more. "How about you, have you eaten?"

"I did, before getting here. With Wooyoung," You reply, roaming around his table. You see countless of drawings of clothing styles paired together, one catching your eye. You crane your neck, thinking about something about the clothes. "I think it would be better with nets topped with it..." You whisper, and Seonghwa whips his head to you.

"What was that?" Seonghwa asks, and only did you realize what you were doing.

"Nothing." You smile, showing him the papers. "Beautiful, Seonghwa. I think you're doing great," You place the papers down neatly, careful not to ruin it in any way.

Seonghwa takes your compliment to heart, making him stop munching. He smiles, genuinely. To hear a compliment when he's struggling the most and is not very confident in his own work makes him choke up, but he endures it.

He doesn't know whether it felt more genuine because you were more genuine than you sounded before, always sarcastic and work-driven. Or if it was how you used his name so freely and comfortably that it seemed more genuine to him.

Nevertheless, he liked it.

"You're done? You must've been very hungry," You question, peeking at the almost clean lunchbox. "Stop overworking and digesting too much coffee. Neither is good for your body," You help Seonghwa clean the table up, earning silence.

"Wait for me, I'll drive you home." Seonghwa quickly picks his things up, shutting the computer down.

"What? Your driver?"

"It's beyond working hours," He chuckles, "And I always go home late. I can drive myself home,"

"So the rumors were true," You gasp, feeling a bit sad about his situation. "But don't worry taking me home, it's just one bus away,"

"No, let me. You've been waiting for me and even brought me dinner, I owe you." He insists, taking his bag. "Let's go"

You quietly follow him to the parking, thinking about how hardworking this man was already. He deserved his spot, he deserved everything with all the work he's been doing. What he doesn't deserve was this inevitable situation, wherein all creatives were in a slump.

"Please," You realize Seonghwa had been holding the passenger's seat for you, and you look at him in question. "What, you're planning to sit at the back? Make me your driver? Your boss?"

"No- I mean, I can just-"

"Just sit," Seonghwa urges, pulling you closer and pushing you inside. You grow uncomfortable at the situation, uneasy at your seat. "Want me to buckle your seatbelt as well?"

"No, I can do it myself," You quickly buckle your own seatbelt, watching Seonghwa close your door and jog to his seat. "You know, I can drive you rather,"

"You can?"

"...If I had a driver's license, that is." You shyly giggle, looking outside.

Seonghwa almost pulls you in to pinch your cheeks, but he stops himself. He finds you so cute when you giggled, finding it hard to hold himself. He busies himself with the GPS, getting your attention.

"Input your address now, it's getting late,"

"Ah, right," You scoot closer to the GPS, putting in Wooyoung's address and smiling. "Thank you," You say, before he starts the car and whispers a shy 'weicome.'

You quickly send Wooyoung a short message informing him of your whereabouts.

"You live close by," Seonghwa starts a small talk. "I live just down the street,"

You look at Seonghwa to react, but god the way his sleeves are pulled up and how his vest hugged his figure so perfectly made him look so ethereal.

"...here," You hear Seonghwa's voice zoom back in to reality, making you jump in your seat. "We're here."

"Sorry, I was zoning out," You apologize, looking around and indeed was outside Wooyoung's house.

"I figured," Seonghwa laughs, "I was just babbling around," He looks around as well, seeing how all the lights inside are blaring. "You must be living with someone? Or you just really leave all lights on?"

"Ah. Yes, I live with Wooyoung," Seonghwa's eyebrows furrow, looking at you rummaging your phone to send a text. "Thank you very much for driving me home, please do go home safely. I can't ask you to send me a text when you're home, that'll be too... much for a secretary, wouldn't it?" You chuckle, hopping out of the car.

After thanking him again, Seonghwa urges you to go inside before he speeds off, watching you go inside safely. He peeks inside, using his height as a plus to see up the gates. Wooyoung welcomes you outside and you jump right in his arms, and he sighs.

Right. Living together in one roof, dinners and breaks together. he might have just gotten his heart broken a bit with the information.

Seonghwa gets home safely and loosens his tie, plopping on his couch with a thud.

He looks at his high ceiling, stares. It still brings him to a smile thinking about your effort a while ago, stretching his arms and resting it in his forehead.

He likes you. Of course, as a secretary. Nothing more. Should be nothing more.

But when he sleeps tightly while thinking of you, the sleep he's been wanting for a few years now, so peaceful and deep, he rethinks again. Maybe, just maybe, a little more than just a secretary.

"Good morning!" You welcome, handing him his usual morning coffee. "You slept in today? That's a first," You chuckle, tailing him to head to his office.

"That's a first for me too," He mumbles, steps quick as he's late for about an hour already.

"Why are you in such a rush? You're the president here, no one's going to scold you," You try to keep up, almost tripping on your own feet. He doesn't even give you a glance since he step foot inside, making you pout.

"I've got tons of work to do, you're my secretary. I think you should know that," He sighs defeatedly, which makes you shut your mouth. He makes his way elegantly through his office, immediately opening his computer and getting to work.

After seeing him in his office, you quietly do your own work in your table, stealing glances only here and there inside the office. When you hear a beep from your machine, you jolt up and run to his office.

"Hi, sorry. I need you to do more reports, here are the files." He stretches out more documents, and you quickly hug it to your chest. You wait for a minute or two for him to even glance at you, but to no avail. You awkwardly make your way out of the office, getting to work.

When it's lunch time, you finally stand up to stretch your body and leave for lunch, intentionally dragging work to be able to stay longer. You peek inside to see Seonghwa still in his place, drawing different designs and looking at his computer.

"Woo," You say, taking a bite of your food, "Your boss is so complicated, do you know that?"

"Why? Did something happen?"

"One day he acts close, the second day he's so distant. Or is it just because he's late today? Catching up with lots of work?" You crane your neck, clicking your tongue.

He scoffs, putting his spoon down.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know that you've been spending more time with him than me these past weeks?" He puts on a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey! That's because it's literally my work?" You protest, taking the last bite. "Also, all this time I've been getting off work early, I go home and rest!"

"That doesn't count, I'm not home." Wooyoung shakes his head. "If you weren't home though, you're waiting for him to finish work. You don't think I know that? You sneak out after having dinner with me, saying you need some air and then come back almost midnight,"

"That's... because!"

"Don't try explaining, I understand. Our president's very likeable. Handsome and successful. He just has his bad days," Wooyoung states as a matter-of-fact, nodding.

"What, like being late in his own company?" You roll your eyes, pushing your tray.

"He's never late. Maybe that's why,"

"What's wrong with being late? There was a time I was never late too!"

"Why are you getting mad at me, I'm literally just stating facts here and trying to console you!" Wooyoung and you have been unconsciously raising your voices, making you apologize around immediately.

You meet Seonghwa's eyes in the entrance, making you jump as if a deer caught in headlights. You don't even know but you feel guilty, looking right at him with apologetic eyes.

He just ignores and turns his back on you, going his own way. You quickly grab your things and drink Wooyoung's water, glaring at him as you try and catch up with Seonghwa.

"Weren't you going to go grab lunch?" You ask, feet busy.

"I was. I didn't like the menu," Seonghwa replies, rushing back to his office.

"Should I get you lunch outside?"

"There's no need."

"I insist. I still have ten minutes for my break. I can get you something you want. There's a lot of restaurant near anyway,"

"y/n, there's no need. I'll just continue my work,"

"Still, you should eat."

"I said there's no need, y/n." His voice wasn't loud, but stern and strong. Just like you viewed him before you worked for him. His look was cold, as if you had just touched a sensitive button for him.

You felt small at that moment, shuffling your hands in awkwardness and shame. You may have felt too comfortable with your boss in such a little time.

"Alright, sorry." You mumble, eyes falling down in an instant and politely apologizing. You step back to reach for the door handle and invite yourself out.

Seonghwa beats himself up right when the door closes but wakes himself up immediately. He's got no time for anything else but his work. He has to work.

So when he glances outside the windows to look at you, he brainwashes himself that he did nothing to be apologetic to you and proceeds to work.

"Here are the last reports, is there anything more I can do?" You confirm, and only with a shake of a head he shoos you off. You politely, once again, bid your farewell and immediately take your leave, heading straight to Wooyoung.

It was the first time you had finished work right before designated off work time, Wooyoung already preparing to go home.

"Why do you look so down?"

"Nothing," You smile, tailing him home. Wooyoung doesn't press on it, changing to a different topic. You stop when you realize you're in front of the restaurant you always eaten dinner.

"I think I'm gonna pass, Woo. I can accompany you eat though,"

Wooyoung ended up only ordering a take out, feeling sorry with the thought of eating alone in front of you if you weren't going to eat. He doesn't ask any more, you were probably going to tell him if you can't handle it yourself.

"I'll take a walk around first, Woo. Clear my head," Your feet ends up in front of your company, hand holding a plastic of food. "What the hell am I even doing here,"

You sigh, heading inside and to his office sneakily. You hesitate whether to bother him again and make him eat dinner, because he may skip both lunch and dinner at this point.

When you peek inside the windows, he was focused on his work, holding a paper up to see if any new ideas will pop up if he stretched it out through the light. Again, you sigh, leaving the company all at once when you realize that you might step beyond the boundary once again.

Seonghwa groans in frustration as he sets the paper down, no new ideas popping up. He decides to call it a night and starts packing up, turning the computer off.

When he turns the knob and felt it heavy, he turns to look at the plastic left hanging on it.

You skipped lunch so please eat dinner. I'm saying this with the sense of responsibility as your secretary. Don't overwork and sleep tight. y/n.

He read the note and left him with a smile, taking the plastic with him as he goes home and eats it deliciously. To be honest, he was quite expecting you to be waiting for him once again like how you did last night. But after his burst out, he realizes that maybe it was too much that he was even expecting that from you.

The food was great, it would've been better if you were there, though.

This continues on for the rest of the week. Leaving food in his door, Seonghwa expecting to see food once he leaves work, Seonghwa and you only talking when you need it for work. That's it.

You don't cross the boundary once more, doing your best with your work until your first paycheck.

"A million?!" You blink rapidly to see if you were only dreaming, looking at your bank account with previously only a dollar and sixty-seven centavos.

"A million?!" Wooyoung exclaims when he hears you, rushing to your phone. "What the fuck?! You're a millionaire within a month?!"

"What the fuck! Must've been an honest mistake, I got to text Seonghwa,"

"Keep it! God-given blessing, duh!" You roll your eyes at Wooyoung, immediately asking Seonghwa to call you once his schedule is free. "You and your reasons, you just want to talk to him!"

"Well, who doesn't?!" Clearly, yes, you're only making up reasons to gain just a minute of extra attention from Seonghwa, and you don't put effort into denying that. "Shush!" You shut Wooyoung off when you read Seonghwa's message that he's free now, immediately dialing his number.

"Hi. You know what, could you please go to the office now? I'll be waiting. Sorry if this is sudden," Seonghwa initiates, and you hear a sigh. "I just have one more document to do and then I'm free,"

"If you have something to do, it's fine. I'll be there tomorrow anyway. It's nothing to rush."

"It's okay, I have something to confirm too and I need it tonight. Only if it's not a hassle though,"

"I'll be there in twenty."

You know softly and peek inside, seeing Seonghwa solemnly napping in his desk, head over arms. Papers were scattered around his table, two empty cups of coffee at the side, monitor still blaring. You walk quietly, making your way to admire his face a little longer.

You smile, wanting to trace his sharp features, craning your neck to get a better view. Your eyes follow his eyes, nose, lips, and then the table.

What the fuck.

Your eyes widen at the realization, stunned in place. At the same time, your nervous, heavy breathing wakes Seonghwa up, opening his eyes and blushing when he realizes how close you were.

"Why are these here?!" You exclaim, snatching three, four, five papers from the table. Seonghwa sighs when you finally got space between the both of you, taking a minute or two to calm himself down before he answered you.

"I was finding the invitation for tomorrow night's event, saw those on your drawer." Seonghwa explains, while you gawk at your drawings. When you were bored, you tried mix and matching different styles of clothes, designing them, and drawing them to life. "Did you make these?" He leans back in his chair, swiveling to your side.

"Ye- No? I don't know? I mean," You ramble, shaking your head. You take a deep breath, thinking how to excuse yourself out of the situation.

There was no way out.

"Look, I just made those when I was bored. It's shit." You wave your hand off, hiding the papers behind your back. "Let me go get the invitation and I'll be off," Before you take a step away, Seonghwa stands up in his place and walks toward you.

When he's a step away in front of you, he stops, tucking his hands in his pockets and stares down at you.

"Were you initially planning on applying for designs?"

"No." Your quick reply makes him squint his eyes, waiting for you to continue. "Where would I get the confidence for that?" You scoff, "I told you, I needed money to continue my masters, I have a degree in business marketing. Why would I apply for something not in my field?"

"Because you don't need a degree for that. All I need is creativity and originality."

"Just let me off, sir. I told you, these were made during breaks, you don't need to put much thought on it,"

"Now I'm a sir?" Seonghwa scoffs, taking a step closer and leaning to meet you eye level. "If those were made during breaks, what more could you do if you're paid to do it? Something you really love doing, getting paid, seeing your works being brought to life, and getting credited for it,"

You gulp, realizing that Ha, Seonghwa isn't dumb to connect the dots. With the way you denied your works, bragged your unrelated degree and how you avoided the topic, for sure it was something you'd keep in the dungeon because you didn't realize you'd be much closer step to one of your unrealistic dreams.

You were just a broke college student taking a LOA because of a crisis in financial status two months ago, who knew you'd be working in one of the biggest fashion brands in the world? When you thought you've had let go of your useless talent and dream long ago already?

"I'll get these," Seonghwa reaches for the papers you hid behind your back with a smirk while you had your guard down, showing it to you. "Let's get you home."

You stayed quiet the whole ride, thinking of what Seonghwa had said. Were your works really just acknowledged by the one and only? Works that, for you, even made half-heartedly? Should you have applied for creatives than marketing? Should you have never even hidden your talent and skills?

If you hadn't, then where would you be now? What would you be now?

"We're here." Seonghwa turns on the hazard, removing his seatbelt to take a good look at you.

"Ah," You mumble, removing your own. "Thank you." You were about to open the door when he stops you, tugging your sleeve.

"I mean what I said with your works." He starts, "I have a spot open in the creatives in case you want to, but no pressure." You nod quietly, mumbling another thank you. You open the door and leave, standing safely beside and waiting for him to drive off.

Before he does, he rolls the windows down and smiles at you softly.

"Meet me tomorrow at the entrance of Lotte Mall at eight in the morning if you have the slightest interest in it," You nod once again, pushing through a smile before he asks you to leave first.

You open the gates to the house, seeing the lights still on, Wooyoung must still be waiting for you.

"Hey," You call softly, landing in the couch. Wooyoung was preparing hot tea for you, asking you to wait for a second. When he skedaddles to the living room with the tea, he immediately notices your expression.

"How did the salary talk go?"

"Oh, went south," You chuckle, taking a sip of the tea that warmed your insides. "I didn't even get to bring it up,"

"What happened?! Are you fired?!" He exaggerates, slamming the table. You chuckle, calming him down.

"No, but he found my drawings I did during break and long story short, said he has a spot open in the creatives." Wooyoung's shoulders drop when he realizes that you, Seonghwa, and him had messed with a sensitive spot of yours, making you think of countless possibilities.

But at the end of the rainbow, he thinks that this might be a good shot at rekindling your dreams.

"y/n... Don't you think it's worth the try?" He takes your hand and caresses it, "Park Enchante is literally offering you a spot because the president liked your work! It's a great steppingstone, a large one at that!" Wooyoung tries to be optimistic, at the same time realistic. "You've always been the talented one, y/n. Don't you think you didn't have to dig up that dream you once buried because Seonghwa already did it for you?"

You stayed quiet all this time, but tears were already forming in your eyes and in no time, flowing.

Seonghwa dug up your dream for you, Wooyoung rekindled it, and it was now up to you to keep the dream going.

"Are we waiting for someone, sir? The tailor for your suit should be inside," His driver holds the umbrella up for him, already been standing outside the entrance of the mall for a good five minutes or so.

"Just one more minute," He looks at his watch, which read 8:13, and around. You hadn't given him any text, but he waits in case. He sighs when the clock ticks another minute, ready to go in when he hears quick heavy steps, revealing a fresh-from-a-run you.

"I'm here! I'm here..." You catch your breath, holding your arm up high while your other assisted your body to your knees.

Seonghwa's smile grows big, and his driver takes a double look because he hadn't seen his boss smile like that the past 5 years he's been working under him.

"You can leave now, y/n will stay with me," He smiles brightly at the driver, patting his shoulder as he walks closer to you.

"Lotte mall is such a long ride from home, why would you pick this one amongst all the other?!" You're still catching your breath, holding yourself from hitting him.

"Let's head inside, it's much warmer there and we could get you a drink." Seonghwa lends you a helping hand, stretching his arm out for you to hold on to. "My favorite tailor is here, that's why I picked this one," He leads you to a shop after resting for a while, proudly pointing at it.

As you head inside, you see various of designs of suits and blouses and shirts and different kinds of clothing for men that god, you just want to try and match different things and style it your own way and everything.

He watches you be in awe as your eyes roam around, seeing your eyes sparkle just like how his did when he first step foot in this shop.

"Your suit's ready sir, this way please."

"Wait for me here, I'll get out once I'm done," You only nod at him and roam around the shop while waiting for him, styles catching your eye.

"Seonghwa definitely fits this shop," You mumble, a smile on your lips.

"I'm ready," You hear Seonghwa from behind, and you turn to look at him.

God. He's so beautiful.

He presented with a simple suit, but with a turtleneck inside, necktie loosely worn, vest tightly hugging his figure and coat only hanging on his broad shoulders. He had loose, leather trousers that fit just perfectly the style of the top, making you gawk. (for reference: that one golden hour concept photo outfit)

It was such a simple outfit for someone like him, but Seonghwa radiated so much charisma, elegance and of course, superiority.

When you realize you were staring too much, which made Seonghwa almost twirl in his place in shyness, you smile smugly.

"Nice. Screams so much like you," You bluntly compliment, but Seonghwa knew better that you meant so much more. He knows that eyes will never lie, speaking as someone who speaks with various fashionistas every single chance he gets.

"Thank you," He mumbles, fighting his own demons to smile so wide. "Now, it's your turn."

"My turn? My turn for what?" You question, but he only pushes you out of the shop after loudly thanking the tailors once again. "For what, pres?"

"Your outfit." You both stand outside a humungous branch of Park Enchante, lights shining brightly to welcome you.

"For what?! Look, my bank account can't handle a single thread in your store, what the hell am I even here for? I know you just paid me a million, which I have a question for another time, but here?! And for what?!"

"Don't worry about that," Seonghwa shakes his hand in front of you, urging you to come in with him. You had no choice but to tail him, a habit you built for the past two months.

"This, this this..." Seonghwa was literally picking everything his eyes land on, making you try this and that and playing dress up with you. "No, no, no. Skip that," And of course, a lot getting rejected.

"Seonghwa, may this be the last one or I swear to the heavens I am passing out inside this fitting room right then and now," When you open the door, it takes Seonghwa a minute or two before he claps slowly, and loudly.

"That!" He points, "That's your outfit," He proudly stands up to walk closer and take a good look at you, swirling you around. He smiles proudly and sighs, pushing your shoulders to a well-lit full body mirror. "You look amazing," He sweetly smiles, making you feel all giddy inside. "I'll be at the counter. You don't need to change back to your clothes," He pats your shoulder and leaves, making you take a good look at yourself.

He was right. You looked amazing. The outfit was literally made for you. You smile as your hands roam around it, admiring it.

"Right." You mumble, patting at yourself. "Amazing."

"Let's go?" Seonghwa asks, carrying the paper bags which consisted of both his and your clothes from a while ago.

"Shouldn't I go change? What's this for anyway?"

"For tonight." He explains, shaking his head when you try to get the paper bags from him.

"And why do I get one as well?"

"Because you're coming with?" He rhetorically answers, as if you should've known.

"For your information, my dear CEO, the event for tonight will be private, consisting of directives of Park Enchante only. No outsiders allowed," You explain, "Now I'm going to change back to my clothes because there is no way I'm getting this just because you're the owner,"

"I'm the owner, I could do what I want." He stretches his arm up high, making it impossible for you to reach the paper bags. "And I'm the CEO. I could invite who I want. Now let's get going because one, I'm hungry, two, we'll be running late for the event if we don't eat now and go for the event."

"Oh my god, what am I even doing here," You quietly stand in one corner, seeing Seonghwa mingle with other directives in the small hall.

The event was meant for a small, formal gathering for a supposedly, announcement that will be made by the CEO himself. But an hour in, Seonghwa still hasn't made any move to pronounce anything.

"Hey," Seonghwa pulls you to a table, handing you a drink. "You look stunned." He chuckles.

"Of course I will be," You say through gritted teeth, smiling sarcastically. "What the hell am I even supposed to do here?"

"You're the star of the event, actually."

"The what?" You dramatically sigh, having enough of his bullshit. Fine he looked gorgeous, with his hair done immaculately and his outfit god made for him, but you were done with his surprises.

He pulls out a paper and a pen, softly smiling at you. You realize that he wasn't joking, making you furrow your brows.

"What's this?" Before you focus on the paper, he takes your shoulder and makes you look at him. He notices a stray hair and tucks it behind your ear, smiling once again.

"There is absolutely no pressure in this, y/n. If you don't agree, this gathering will just be a gathering. We'll act like nothing happened and you'll continue to be my secretary for as long as you want, get paid as much as you want."

You see where this is going, making you sigh.

"But if you agree, I will stand up for you among these people to announce that I have seen one of the best works I have seen my entire life, coming to collaborate with Park Enchante to produce the best works in the industry. How does that sound?"

You stare right at him, as if he just said the most ridiculous ment in the whole of your existence. You had not seen this part coming. You thought it would only be a you and Seonghwa talk, but he had other plans.

At the same time, although you have already decided only this morning, being questioned like this wasn't part of your plan. You still had your doubts, your insecurities, your overthinking to even come up with a final answer.

And as if Seonghwa read your mind, "I'll be here to help you. We can help each other grow, and I can offer you the free of contract. You can stop whenever you like, and I will support whatever decision you make."

You stayed quiet, tears forming once again. Before it even falls, Seonghwa had already wiped them off your eyes, and pulled you in for a hug.

"You can leave if you want. We will forget this ever happened." Seonghwa's words made you shake your head, pulling back to face him. When you smile, the heaviness on your chest leaves.

"Are you sure this is without pressure? You just told me I'm the star of the event," You squint your eyes at him, making him chuckle.

"Okay, maybe with a bit of pressure. With your talent, I don't want it to either go to waste or to be of another brand's hands," The thought made him shiver, as you let out a hearty laugh.

With a breath, you pick the pen up and sign both copies of paper, making Seonghwa exclaim exaggeratedly and punch the air, earning a lot of weird stares.

"Yes! Finally, everyone!" He shouts, holding the paper in his hand and leaving the other copy in the table. He gives you a tight hug before leaving to the stage, tapping the mic to finally announce you as an official creative and still secretary.

While everyone is still in doubt, Seonghwa goes on a rave about how amazing your works he discovered are, emphasizing that you only did it on your breaks.

Embarrassed, you hang your head low and apologized for the commotion he's causing, glaring at him and mouthing for him to come down.

Making his way to you, he was stopped by a few directives for a small talk about the announcement and honestly, you couldn't care less about what others say. Seonghwa believes in you, the Park himself in Park Enchante. What could others hold against you?

You sigh in relief as the other copy of paper you signed caught your attention, scanning through the pages of paper until you're in the last.

This contract is only for the purposes of having an agreement, but the client is of free-employment role.

The client's status will be (1) Direct Secretary of the President of Park Enchante; (2) Creative Fashion Designer and Stylist of Park Enchante.

And optionally, (3) To be Park Enchante's President's personal company for as long as the client wants.

The client's assistance over the last two months has been much appreciated by Park Enchante's president. The president owes the client tremendous gratitude since the president recognized and valued even the modest efforts the client made over the previous two months.

By signing this page additionally, the client grants Park Enchante's president into their personal life in return for their services.

You scoff at the amount of ridicule the 'contract' was oozing of, but at the same time, it made your heart skip a beat.

"Ridiculously childish," You mumble, yet the smile can't be wiped off your face.

"Oh, you read it," Seonghwa's smile falters a bit, seeing how you reacted to it. "You don't have to mind that, you know,"

"Isn't this abuse of power?" You shake your head, waving the paper in front of him.

"Hey, it says there optionally," Seonghwa pouts, "As long as you signed the first page as our creatives, everything's good," Yet he can't help feel his heart break a bit at the thought that slipped his mind- Wooyoung. "It's my company, my contract, I can alter it as much as I want," Seonghwa mumbles like a little kid talking back.

You scoff at his words, "Ah, so you don't want it signed?" You raise your eyebrows, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. "I was more than willing to let you in my personal life though," You shake your head, clicking your tongue. "What do I do with this copy, then? It's already signed,"

You see the process of Seonghwa getting bewildered, to his eyes shining bright as it beamed at you, realizing what you had just said as his smile grows wider than it already was a while ago.

"Really?" Despite the excitement and the shock, his voice was sweet and soft. Delicate, as he steps closer to you and cups your cheeks.

"Really, Seonghwa." You mumble, smiling at him. You stretch your hand out to ask for the other copy, but he only pulls it and engulfs you in a warm, tight hug.

"I've been holding my feelings off for so long," He whispers, breath hitting your neck, "Now we're even bonded through paper,"

"I will stay to company you to my deathbed, Seonghwa." You chuckle, still finding it ridiculous at how you find the contract still ridiculously sweet at the same time. "But please, do not ever do that again. If you're going to ask me out, ask me out like how a normal person will,"

"What's a Seonghwa if it wasn't for my self-made ideas?"

permanent taglist: @sunlightwoo

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

04. Take a risk?

Vulnerability is a demanding feat for Scara.

In fact, vulnerable Scara is a privilege not many have seen. He does not allow himself to slip through the harsh mold he sculpted for himself.

So imagine the bewilderment on your face upon finding your dear friend lying in the comfort of your bed, face down on the once perfectly, cushioned pillows, with his phone sitting atop the edge.

You inched closer before settling near his sleeping frame.

Scara has not changed. His purple hair retained its fluff, while some strands draped over his closed eyes. He looked at ease—so different from how he usually presents himself.

Years have passed since you’ve last seen him in person, but this was not the reunion you were expecting. Instead, you anticipated a snarky Scara, complaining about your overpacking skills while undermining your decision-making abilities before force-feeding you his favorite Inazuman cuisine as a show of hospitality.

How wrong you were.

Because this was a better sight.

“What are you doing?” Scara’s eyes flung wide open.

Shit.

You cleared your throat, before standing up and feigning ignorance at your earlier actions, “Dhouldn’t I be asking you that question? I entered the room to see you sound asleep in my perfectly made-bed with your outside clothes on.”

“I don’t even know what happened,” he responded while rubbing his eyes and tousling his hair.

What a domestic scene.

“Get out of my bed. You messed it up.”

“You’ll live,” Scara responded as he removed himself from your bed before spotting Bambi lying on the spacious couch across the room with his favorite stuffed bunny neatly wrapped around his feet. Scara pointed at your cat, “You actually brought him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re an awful cat owner.”

You threw the perfectly cushioned pillow at his face, “Be careful with your words.”

The light thud of the pillow landing on the floor after hitting his face, roused your once asleep rag doll. Immediately, Scara sat next to Bambi, expecting your cat to sit on his lap, ready to be petted. But you knew better, Bambi despised affection—or so you thought, because your cat gladly took Scara up on that offer and made himself comfortable.

You scoffed at the scene while Scara smirked at your reaction, “It seems Bambi still likes me more than you.”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s probably the only entity in this world to tolerate your cocky ass.”

“My fans would beg to differ.”

You decided to humor him, “Yeah, I’m sure they’d get down on their knees for you.”

“They better.”

“I hate this conversation.”

He chuckled slightly, catching you off-guard, still in disbelief that you were in the same proximity as him, bantering as always as if distance was never an issue.

“You started it,” he said before grabbing his phone, “So what do want to eat?”

“What? It’s twelve in the morning, aren’t you leaving?”

He scratched his head, “Oh, should I go?

No. I missed hanging out with you.

Yes. I’m exhausted.

I don’t know? But I have questions you need to answer.

Fuck it. “I want a bowl of Shimi Chazuke.”

His face brightened up, “Oh, that’s my favorite.”

I know. “What a surprise.”

He continued to scroll on his phone, dedicated on scouring the internet for his favorite midnight snack, “There’s one restaurant open for delivery. Even better—it’s ten minutes away,” He glanced back at you, “Anything else?”

You shook your head, “Ayaka and Thoma already spoiled me today.”

Not only did they feed you, but Ayaka gave you an “Inazuman goodie bag.” You have yet to open it.

“The food should be here in thirty minutes.”

That should be enough time…

You hummed at his words and made yourself comfortable on the bed with a pillow resting on your chest acting as support for your arms as you scroll through your phone before saying, “Then while we wait, do want to finally explain why you brought me here?”

You glimpsed at your friend. Scara froze for a second before shifting his posture on the couch, “Straight to the point?”

You nodded, “Why not? That was part of our “deal,” right?”

Scara recalled your conversation.

You found it strange how he kept fidgeting and adjusting in his seat while holding your rag doll like a stress toy. You’re aware of Scara’s sporadic generosity, but was he up to?

Finally, he cleared his throat, “Are you willing to take a risk?”

Notes:

I’M SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES

i don’t like this chapter, but i hope you do?

i had another non written alternative for this one saved in my drafts, but it felt unnatural, so i scrapped it

next chapter is the last written chapter for a while

shimi chazuke is scara’s special food

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

masterlist | previous | next

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[lunarriviera]

Big Dumb Hot Cop & Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant: A Manifesto

So it has recently come to my attention that this, my archetypal pairing formulation, has broken containment, probably because I've been flinging these terms around like a deranged person wielding a blunt instrument. Therefore it behooves me to explain what the hell I mean by all these adjectives, and who are some classic and contemporary examples of the idiots under discussion—who are by the way extremely in love with one another whether they realize it or not. (Don't you say "bromance." Don't you dare SAY that word to me.) I will use blorbo from my shows to illustrate.

I first realized that I am in fact a Big Dumb Hot Cop whisperer thanks to Chinese police procedural 猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin (2022). Right away, it's very important to note that Big Dumb Hot Cop is NOT in fact all that dumb. He's only less intelligent IN COMPARISON to his Effete Slightly Sociopathic Genius Consultant, who is, as already stated, a genius. Big Dumb Hot Cop is in fact ruthlessly good at his job. He's driven, he obsesses about cases, he can walk into a crime scene and pick up on the one thing everyone else has missed. There is no suspect he cannot intimidate upon investigation. And he's even better when he's working with (or against, depending on what stage they're at) the genius consultant. They need each other, whether they're fighting or collaborating. They can only clear cases together.

Here are, then, police captain Du Cheng and his genius consultant, sketch artist Shen Yi, eyeing each other significantly as some witness is, I think, lying his face off? Honestly I can't even remember what's happening because the important thing here is their nonverbal communication. This is crucial for this pairing. They can think circles around each other without saying a word. Love that for them.

Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant has two levels of Possibly Sociopathic. Most maddeningly of all, he has secrets. Sometimes many secrets. So at first, Big Dumb Hot Cop is going to think he's the criminal, or in some way involved in the wrongdoing. The second level is that he'll find Genius Consultant just worryingly, disturbingly good at predicting criminal behavior. And he will continue to be suspicious of him for exactly one or at most two episodes, until he's then swept off his big dumb feet by the rapidity and correctness of Effete Genius's deductions. There's nothing Big Dumb Hot Cop loves more than solving cases. Well, maybe beer. He also loves beer. Once he sees that Effete Consultant is useful, he'll do a 180º and stop complaining to his chief of police, and instead start demanding that Effete Consultant be his forever. He'll start hanging out in his office. He'll literally drag him to crime scenes by the wrist.

(And did I mention Effete Consultant must be very pretty? Did I mention that? He is lovely. Long, thin fingers to steeple while he thinks. Delicate features. Haunted dark eyes. Never sleeps. Shocking self-neglect. You may see where I am going with this.)

Another important attribute of Big Dumb Hot Cop: he's big. Or anyway strong, or a gifted fighter. Let's face it, he has to be, because Genius Consultant is going to be reckless with his own personal safety to the point of stupidity (now who's dumb, huh?). For example, consider another Chinese procedural, S.C.I. 谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (2018). Captain Bai Yutong is sort of impossibly physically talented (former fighter pilot! national sandu champion! runs over moving cars and then shoots at them, like some kind of weird urban biathlon!) and, like all good Big Dumb Hot Cops, his entire life is thrown upside down because he now has to drop everything to protect his effete consultant, criminal psychologist Dr. Zhan Yao, who's so careless with himself that in any another drama he would probably be driving Bai Yutong to drink. Thanks to the danmei on which SCI Mystery is based, however, we can safely assume Bai Yutong is taking it out on Zhan Yao in blow jobs.

Note that Bai Yutong is the cook, even though he's the gong, and that he moves in with Zhao Yan to "protect" him from...something, I can't ever remember what, and then just sort of forgets to move out again. For the length of the entire series.

I would argue that 镇魂 | Guardian (2018) is a procedural, even if it also has ghosts, a talking cat, snake lady, eerie dark energy that gets flung around like paintball splatters, and a whole bunch of other supernatural stuff that was not approved of by Big Red (it's based on a danmei of the same title by Priest, a novel which has been pulled from circulation for censorship). Further confusing matters, Zhao Yunlan isn't particularly Big or Dumb, nor is he even really a Cop, technically; but I'm claiming him for this genre not least because of his Effete (drop-dead gorgeous) Possibly Sociopathic (Chief Zhao thinks he's a suspect for a good third of the story) and Definitely Genius, Later Gangpressed into being a Consultant, chock-full of secrets Professor Shen Wei.

Once they finally team up, though, they do this genre/pairing proud. Why, there's nothing they can't solve except how to stay alive. Look at them here enjoying some fine nonverbal communication: "Oh my god, you're just like me—you too will fling yourself directly into bodily harm in order to save a clueless civilian. Okay this could be inconvenient for both of us. Also wow for a genetics professor you're really fucking built, do you lift my bro." (Yes. Yes he does lift.)

A final example: the cruelly short-lived 光渊 | Justice in the Dark (2023), which like Guardian is based on a danmei by Priest, 默读 | Silent Reading. I got baited into watching the eight (8) existing episodes by seeing a cut of Captain Luo Wenzhou taking on like forty guys with a champagne bottle, a pair of curtains, an axe handle, and a birthday cake, like some kind of cultivator. He's so big and hot, and he's so very dumb. He's also a cop, and ACAB (which is sort of the plot of Silent Reading); and Fei Du is possibly using him for his own nefarious ends (cf. possibly sociopathic and secretive). But underneath all of Fei Du's "I am the abyss, fear me, rawr!" scary posturing, like a puffed-up kitten, he's just a very pretty tender-hearted effete genius, and you can watch Luo Wenzhou melting, and practically pinpoint the exact moment when his whole heart flies out of his eyes and he decides: Yeah, okay, that's it for me. That one. The annoying little traumatized fuerdai with some kind of a death wish that I do not understand. I'll be throwing myself in front of bullets for him and/or cooking him dinner for the foreseeable future, thanks.

Priest is gonna mess with this dynamic of gong/shou caregiving and safeguarding, because that's what she does; but the fundamental beats are still there. Look at these ninnyhammers, just this second figuring out they're actually kind people who belong to each other.

Here they are confronting a suspect together. (You will notice the large butcher knife wavering in the foreground.) Luo Wenzhou, highly trained, nonetheless cannot de-escalate the situation. It takes a pretty playboy in an arm sling to come wandering into the room, and then, using his superb personal knowledge of what it's like to be traumatized to the point of insanity, getting the suspect to disarm. I just love the way they look at each other, incredulous (Luo Wenzhou) and mock-fascinated (Fei Du). If I ever meet the person who directed this scene I'm going to need to kiss them on the mouth.

Once you accept the gospel of Big Dumb Hot Cop and Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant into your media-based life, you'll find it has many applications, not all of which have to be procedurals. Consider: characters from the Daomu Biji franchise, possibly (Hei Xiazi is the biggest dumbest hottest not-a-cop I've ever met). Leverage, in a weird OT3 way. Assorted combinations of Avengers. Teen Wolf fic, absolutely. Various Stargate incarnations. Several other Priest danmei, not only procedurals. Definitely Mysterious Lotus Casebook. Et cetera. (You're on your own with MXTX, though.)

This has gotten long and there are still so many nuances and features and wrinkles and problems with the theory that should be ironed out, but it'll have to do for now. I'll simply close by saying: yes, there is also a classic example and you already know exactly who it is.

[coffee-and-tea-time]

KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!

HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS

Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol

➤ first part

➤ here to see the other option

↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎

TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions

Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...

Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?

A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 

“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”

Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.

“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”

It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?

“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”

Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?

Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.

“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”

Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…

wait a second…

Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?

“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”

Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.

“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”

You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.

“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”

Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.

So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[etherealyoungk]

━☆ first kiss with seventeen: dokyeom

♡ first kiss with seventeen series ♡ masterlist ♡

pairing: dokyeom x reader

warnings: kissings, fluff

wordcount: 533

you’re at dokyeom’s place and you both are curled up on the sofa as the movie plays on the screen in front of you both. it was your weekly movie night date and you were more than happy to spend it with your boyfriend dokyeom. you had decided to watch a rom-com and it was turning out to be quite good.

until a kissing scene came up and you felt yourself freeze and you looked over at doykeom before looking back down. the thing was you and dokyeom hadn’t shared a first kiss yet. and it was more because you were shy and nervous about it. little did you know that dokyeom felt the same way. he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess anything up, especially your first kiss. but upon seeing the kissing scene on the screen, it was like something awakened in him. you both couldn’t deny the tension in the room right now and you hear dokyeom clear his throat as he turns to look at you, only to find you already looking at him. he smiles softly at this and proceeds to pull you closer to him.

“do you think--can i- um kiss you?”, he stutters out softly and you softly grin at his nervousness. but you would be lying if you said you weren't nervous too. you could hear your heart beating so fast. "yes", you whisper softly. his hand gently caresses your cheek as he looks at you like you’re his whole world. both of you close your eyes and lean in, only to end up bumping noses against each other.

you both open your eyes and he’s apologizing but you’re just blinking up at him. you let out a soft laugh. “it’s okay”, you say and this seems to ease his nerves. If he only knew how nervous you were right now too. he leans in again and presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away ever so slightly. you can feel him smile against your lips as you let out a giddy little giggle, making him smile even more. his smile really did things to you. you lean forward and kiss him again and pull away. you both look at each other for five seconds before you both burst into a fit of giggles and chuckles.

"this is not how i thought our first kiss would go", he admits, looking at you like pure love. "this is cute though", you tell assuring him. he gazes at you for a few more seconds before speaking.

"can i kiss you again, a proper one this time", he asks, searching your eyes. you nod and he's leaning in, closing the gap between you again as his lips meet yours again. his lips are soft against yours and he kisses you softly and gently and so sweetly. you practically melt into his arms as you kiss him back, your head getting fuzzy.

he pulls away and it takes you two seconds before your eyes flutter open, seeing dokyeom smiling down at you fondly. "hi", he says. "hi", you reply before you're both chuckling again and you bury your head in his chest, getting shy.

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[ninjakk]

Hi

I have been seeing a lot how wwx got lwj drunk to sleep with him lately and how that’s implied in his confession is that true. Idk I’ve just been seeing a lot lately it kinda putting me off wx and mdzs 😭

Hi Anon,

Seriously? That's just ludicrous! Please don't listen to such nonsense 🫂 that's so far from the truth I'm surprised people are even saying something like that!

The scene in question clearly shows WWX intentions from the start. There's no room for arguments or interpretation here, it's pretty clear-cut! But, just to prove this ridiculous take is completely wrong, let's have a look through the text - to put your mind at ease 😉

So, prior to the scene in question, Wangxian have had some pretty poignant moments together. Not only has WWX fully realised his feelings for LWJ, but he's started to understand he has had them for a very long time - thanks to the whole scene with the married couple making him realise his need to tease LWJ was not as straightforward as he originally assumed back as a teen. He is also beginning to take real notice of how LWJ treats him "differently" and hopes that it might be in the same romantic way he evidently feels toward him. Then of course, we have WWX even praying to be "tethered" to LWJ for the rest of his life and secretly declares their two bows as part of their marriage bows!

With all that in mind... Why the hell would WWX get LWJ drunk just to sleep with him 😂 Getting someone drunk to sleep with them is usually (but not always of course) because they feel they will not have a chance with them when the person is sober! WWX thinks he might have a chance to be with the person he loves, he wouldn't ruin that just for (his first ever!) quick fumble in the bath sheets!

We can clearly see the rationale behind WWX's actions:

Just as he was about to pour the liquor, he hesitated, taking that split second to warn himself. If he doesn’t drink, then let it go. If he does, just ask a couple things. Don’t do anything else—just figure out how exactly he feels. He won’t remember anything once he sobers up, anyway… It won’t affect anything.

He swore this to himself before he steadily filled the wine cup and pushed it toward Lan Wangji with perfect nonchalance. He was already prepared for Lan Wangji to reject the drink—but maybe the other man had his own worries, for he picked up the cup without a single glance and tossed it back in one go.

WWX literally tells himself and the reader that he has no ulterior motives. I know he can fib at times, but we know WWX is not some depraved sex offender gagging to jump LWJ's bones! Up until this point he's been rather chaste and sweet! He cares far too much about LWJ to take advantage of him. It's more than obvious WWX has a plan to use Drunkji's trait of speaking candidly and without restraint to find out how the man truly feels about him without having to risk asking it becoming awkward and being rejected if he were sober.

“Let’s play a different game. Just like before, I’ll ask questions and you answer them. No lying…”

He had only just uttered the word “play” when Lan Wangji abruptly agreed, “All right!”

Of course, once LWJ is drunk, things don't go as planned and Drunkji decides to go off on a little adventure, dragging WWX along by the hand for the ride. This eventually results in LWJ becoming dirty and WWX offering to help him wash - none of which were part of WWX's original intentions. WWX even tries to leave LWJ to bathe alone!

Wei Wuxian heaved a sigh of relief. “Take your time soaking. I’ll go outside.” He moved to step outside, get some fresh air and cool himself down, but then heard a splash.

In fact, he tries a number of times to distance himself in such a steamy situation. But LWJ is insisting he stay and being very huffy when he tries to leave, so WWX reluctantly complies.

Here we see WWX's motivations reiterated yet again:

And so, despite getting Lan Wangji drunk, Wei Wuxian spent most of the night waffling and didn’t manage to ask him a single thing. It wasn’t that it slipped his mind. In fact, he hadn’t forgotten for a moment that the reason he had given Lan Wangji alcohol was to ask him, Hanguang-jun, how do you really see me? But every time the words were about to leave his mouth, he found all kinds of excuses to back down—There’s no rush; I’ll play along with him for now, wait until he’s had enough fun before I ask, or I can’t be so flippant about this, gotta be a little more serious. I’ll ask again after we’ve sat down…

But despite the many excuses that had him dragging his heels, the real reason was probably that he was afraid. He was afraid of getting a different answer from the one he hoped to hear.

WWX only wanted to get him drunk so he could ask LWJ how he felt about him without making it awkward. He loves him so much he's frightened of losing him if LWJ's answer was not the same as his. This way, he can find out first and ensure they feel the same before confessing when the man is sober. If his answer was not what he hoped, WWX fully intended to keep his own feelings to himself and stay with him as a friend instead, anything to be by his side. He was frightened of losing the one thing he ever truly wanted for himself.

As we all know, things escalated quickly... and WWX was lost in a blazing fire of desire and passion. We, as the reader, can see LWJ had long since sobered up - thanks to the subtle hints with his speech and actions no longer childlike, as they are when he's drunk. I always felt WWX had picked up on this and at least assumed LWJ was sober by the time they became physically intimate.

Although Wei Wuxian didn’t know exactly when he had sobered up, there was one thing he could be sure of. Since this was Lan Wangji’s reaction now that he was clearheaded, it meant he’d been an unwilling participant in what had transpired earlier.

To me, this indicates WWX not only thought LWJ was sober, but he also thought the other was a willing participant in their love making. He certainly would not have reacted in such a heartbroken way if he had always intended to take advantage of a drunken LWJ just to have sex with him. Overwhelming guilt and disgust washes over him and suddenly WWX is blaming himself for everything that transpired.

I'm not entirely sure if they mean it was implied in the above scene or the Guanyin Temple confession scene. But even from the above, we can see it was not planned or intentional in any way. If they are unhinged enough to interpret WWX's confession during the hostage party as him admitting otherwise - they are completely twisting his words!

“Lan Zhan! Lan Wangji! Hanguang-jun! I…I genuinely wanted to sleep with you earlier!”

It's more than obvious this is NOT, in any way, a confession that WWX got LWJ drunk to sleep with him! WWX is trying to clear the misunderstanding up as quickly and efficiently as possible - and if it shocks JGY into letting his guard down long enough so he could escape his clutches and run straight into LWJ's strong arms, then that's a bonus! WWX could not bear the thought of LWJ being in any distress or pain because of him and he had to get him to realise how much he loved him as soon as possible. It's brilliant! He is literally just telling LWJ that he actually had wanted to sleep with him because he really really REALLY loves him and not because he is some flippant man who slept with a friend in the heat of the moment because he wanted to or to "thank" him in some way - as he had alluded to earlier in an attempt damage control. That's what the above is. Not WWX revealing he had intended to get LWJ drunk to sleep with him from the very beginning!

Overall, such a claim doesn't even make sense. Why would WWX get LWJ drunk to just sleep with him if he already suspected the man had feelings for him? What would that even achieve? I'm going to put this down to Wangxian haters trying to pick and pull at threads that aren't even there to begin with.

Don't listen to the haters, it seems they can't read 🤷🏼‍♀️

[thursdayinspace]

So much to say about the Duane Barry episodes and Scully's abduction, but mostly I find it amazing how much relationship development they managed to pack into a handful of episodes that Scully is barely in at all. It's already set up nicely: the hostage negotiation, Mulder being frustrated because first he's asked to help and then has to find out they're withholding information from him. Once again, he's not being taken seriously; he has to turn to Scully again even though they're not even partners anymore. He still relies on her, she's still the only one he can really trust. She comes all the way out there with the information she digs up when she can't reach him. She talks into his ear to help him resolve the situation. Afterwards, when they find that implant in Duane Barry, they try to figure that out together as well. As we've seen throughout all the episodes before, they fall back into their partnership easily, like it's the most natural thing in the world for them. And then she's abducted and everything falls apart. That's where it really picks up and it becomes clear that everything up to this point has been little more than a (very well done and important) prologue.

Mulder's silence at the beginning of "Ascension" is almost frightening. It's certainly intense. Somewhere between withdrawn and hyperfocused, with a good dose of fear mixed in. He tells Scully's mother that she's not in her apartment, and after that we don't hear him speak again until a good way into the conversation in Skinner's office the next morning, a good five minutes into the episode even though he's in every scene before then. And when he barely puts up a fight when Skinner tells him to go home, you know he's going rogue. He does not trust them to find Scully, and he certainly can't sit and wait while she's out there with Duane Barry.

He pushes himself beyond his limits, almost falling asleep at the wheel but refusing to let Krycek drive -- he doesn't give up the tiniest sliver of control. When the tram operator won't let them take the tram up the mountain, Mulder has no problem showing him his gun. He pushes the tram beyond safety limits. Does his acrobatics out in the open who knows how high up in the air -- risking his life -- after Krycek stops the tram.

And holy shit the way he loses it when he spots Scully's blood and hair on Duane Barry's hospital band is truly scary, I don't think we've ever seen him that angry before. But on second thought, maybe angry is the wrong word. He's acting out of fear and panic. I don't think even an angry Mulder would choke anyone. He isn't thinking straight anymore, his responses are almost primal at this point. He hasn't slept, he's running on adrenaline, he's no closer to finding Scully and now he knows she's injured.

Finding out about Krycek, Skinner reopening the x files . . . it all seems almost secondary. Not as important as his meeting with Scully's mother and her telling him to keep the cross necklace. He didn't have anyone this entire time to lean on or to talk to. And he still doesn't, but this is the closest he gets. He and Scully's mom are in similar places. For them, this is personal. I love that they're bonding over this, over their love for Scully and their worry about her. (Whatever meaning you want to read into the word "love" between Mulder and Scully at this point.)

The beginning of "One Breath" is so intense, Mulder running into that room in the hospital to find her lying there unconscious, hooked up to a respirator. Anger fueled by blind panic. "Who brought her here?" "How did she get here?" "Who did this to her?" "Listen, if you’re hiding anything, I swear, I will do anything, whatever it takes, I will find out what they did to her!" I love the scene and I absolutely love the way it's acted, big thumbs up to DD. Getting her back could have been the emotional release of that arc, but she comes back in a coma. It spikes the angst to a whole new level. Before, he didn't know whether she was okay or not, he could hold onto hope. Now he knows she's not okay. Getting her back does not let him finally sit down and take a deep breath and process any of it. Nothing is resolved, the fight is just taken elsewhere.

I just want to take a second to think about the fact that he sigend her living will as her witness. That is. A very intimate thing to do. And that moment needs to get the credit it deserves. Knowing that they have talked about the event of her being unable to decide for herself, knowing she let him in, let him sign it, and the fact that he did it? That is a huge HUGE thing.

What is really intriguing is that Mulder and Melissa clash in the way they do, because you'd expect them to get along. I wonder if they would have gotten along better had they met under different circumstances. But here, Mulder is in a very different place. He tends to go to extremes when the stakes are high, his single-minded focus in this moment doesn't allow for anything but action. He still believes he can do something. He doesn't even go in with them when they decide to pull the plug -- he refuses to accept a reality where she dies. We see that again in the cancer arc, where he tells her as much when she tells him her cancer is untreatable.

If anyone would go to the trouble of putting together a list of the top ten most heartbreaking moments from the entire show, Mulder's visit to CSM and the way his voice breaks when he asks "Why her?" would have to be on it. "Why her and not me?" It's the way he says it, but it's also what's in that question that makes it so heartbreaking. Because that's what it all boils down to. He feels guilty. He asked in the hospital "Who did this to her?" And throughout these episodes, in his head, he has always considered that person to be himself. He did this to her. Something we get to hear again and again all the way into the revival when he tells her he wishes she'd left that basement earlier so she'd have been spared from all the things that happened to her. He feels responsible.

(Just a short digression: He is not responsible. I feel like that's a very important thing to remember. Something her brother should have been told in the cancer arc too. Holding Mulder responsible robs Scully of all agency and makes her nothing more than a loyal puppy. But unpacking Bill Jr.'s implicit misogyny, and why the way Mulder feels responisble for everything is not the same thing, that is for another post. If anyone has thoughts on that though, I'd love to hear them.)

A real Mulder moment is him choosing not to take revenge on the men responsible for Scully's abduction, after X pretty much hand-delivers them to him on a silver tray, but rather to go to the hospital after Melissa tells him it might be his last chance, that Scully is dying. He will choose Scully over everything every time. Sitting at her bedside, taking her hand, the way he speaks to her -- it becomes clear how deep the feelings go but also how fragile and undefined it all is between them. They're friends, they're partners, they've flirted, they've told each other some of their deepest secrets, and he has no idea how to be around her now. "I don’t know if my being here . . . will help bring you back. But I’m here." His pause there before "will help bring you back" kills me. He honestly has no idea. He can hope, but he just doesn't know if he'd be a contributing factor in her decision to come back or move on, if she even hears him, if it's even in her control. (I've always wondered when he says in the revival that he invented wishing someone back to life when she was in the hospital, whether he was talking about her cancer or about this moment, or maybe both.)

He gets his breakdown once he comes back home to his destroyed apartment. Sliding down the wall crying -- such a moment. There's no anger in that anymore. No action. He expects to be losing her at that point and all the fight has left him. Until he gets the phone call that she's okay.

Could the episode have benefited from a slightly longer scene at the end? Maybe. It seems a bit anticlimactic, after all he's been through, that he walks into her room, gives her that silly tape (such a Mulder thing to do), hands her the cross necklace back, and that's pretty much it. On the other hand, considering the scene by her bedside before, maybe it fits. He doesn't know where he stands with her, and she's with her family.

I do think the ending is a bit abrupt, but that can easily be forgiven with all that those episodes provided before that. If anyone can see more in that ending than I do, I'd love to hear it because I really don't quite know what to make of it. But they seriously sent Mulder on a journey there, and it worked. And it sets so many things in motion, for the plot and for their relationship.

[driflew]

w a bit more attention on bastard and the beast au bc of. someone. making a comment on stream, i wanted to post another batb scene

this one is like... loosely canon? big dog au is written so it can be read as romantic or platonic (since i like shipping and cherri does not lmao), which is why the curse is changed from true love to reciprocal trust/affection. that said, i was having thoughts about how Ren might feel about loving Martyn when he knows his curse works based on someone reciprocating his trust/affection, and how difficult it must be to love/trust a monster

“You don’t have to work all day, you know,” Ren says, lying on the ground toward the edge of the room. Martyn stops, glancing at the collection of dust and fur gathered by the end of his broom, then looks up at Ren.

“If I don’t sweep, the carpet is going to grow a second layer,” Martyn says.

“I don’t shed that much,” Ren mutters. Martyn says nothing, raising his eyebrows. “What? I don’t!”

It seems Martyn finds that unworthy of an argument, because he simply turns and resumes sweeping. Ren watches him—his sleeves are still rolled up from moving rubble earlier, and though sweeping doesn’t require much muscle, Ren finds himself watching the slight flex of his arm when he moves.

Everything about Martyn is attractive to Ren. Maybe he’s just been alone too long, but he finds himself admiring Martyn at every chance he gets. The callousness of his hands, the swish of his skirts when he walks, the crease below his eyes when he smiles… Ren can’t help but take it all in.

When Ren closes his eyes, when he lets himself dream, he can almost imagine how Martyn’s touch would feel against his own skin. Martyn’s hand in his own, far more weathered than the hands of a nobleman, or cupping his face with rough fingers. Martyn could have lifted his old body off the ground entirely, he thinks. Martyn could have swept him off his feet effortlessly.

Ren thinks about being delicate, something he never once cared about before, but knows he can never be again. He wants to be something fragile and small, something treasured and cherished. He wants Martyn to hold him like he’s precious, to touch him with intention, to treat him with love. He wants soft, smooth hands, clear of fur and claws, small enough to fit in Martyn’s own. He wants hands which don’t spend all their time against the muddy, dusty floor, hands important enough to be held and squeezed and kissed.

Could Ren be worthy of that one day? Would he have been worthy of that if he'd had a human face? He doesn’t want to be scary and clumsy and monstrous anymore.

Something smacks Ren in the nose. Not hard, but it tickles, and it immediately makes Ren sneeze.

“Did you just sneeze on me? That’s so gross,” Martyn says. He’s standing directly in front of Ren’s face, grimacing heavily. His broom is still in his hands, and Ren has to stop himself from laughing.

“You hit me in the nose! With a dusty broom! Of course I was going to sneeze!” Ren says.

“Gross,” Martyn says again, “I feel like I should take a bath.”

“You actually want to clean off?” Ren asks. Martyn narrows his eyes.

“I’m not entirely disgusting,” Martyn says, “I spent all of this morning pushing rubble around. I should take a bath anyway.”

“If you’d like to finish work early, I’ll help you draw one,” Ren offers, and Martyn nods. Ren pries himself off the ground, and when he stands, he’s taller than Martyn. He almost laughs to himself—small and delicate indeed.

Filling Martyn’s bath is a team effort. Martyn has an easier time operating the well, what with his hands making the whole process of tying knots and turning cranks much smoother. When the bucket is full of water and out of the well, he hands it to Ren, who carries it back to the bathroom with ease.

“You’re dusty,” Martyn notes, dumping one bucket into the tub, “How do you clean off? Could I just brush it all out?”

“That could work,” Ren says, “Maybe wet rags?”

“I don’t want you to smell like wet dog forever,” Martyn groans, “But if I brush out that much dust and fur, I’m just going to have to sweep again.”

“Such is life, living with a monster,” Ren says, amused. Martyn groans.

“Everyone warns you with magic beasts how you might get eaten or something,” Martyn says, “No one warns you about all the godamn sweeping.”

A few more buckets see the bath full. Martyn doesn’t even bother to dismiss Ren before he starts untying the clasp at the back of his dress.

“Martyn! Hold on, let me leave. I should give you some privacy,” Ren says, a bit embarrassed, but Martyn seems surprised he cares.

“Why? It’s not like it matters,” Martyn dismisses, “Plus, I know you’ll get lonely if I kick you out.”

“It’s hardly appropriate,” Ren argues. Martyn shrugs.

“It’s just us in this whole castle, Ren. Plus, you’re not even human, so why do you care?” Martyn says, “I’ve changed in front of you before, anyway.”

The first and last points are true enough—no one in the castle is going to scold them for indecency, and Martyn has changed from nightdress to working clothes in Ren’s bedroom a few times before.

Ren had thought that a sign of trust. Knowing Martyn simply doesn’t think of him as human enough to care not to change in front of him, it…

“…I guess,” Ren agrees, though he still averts his eyes as Martyn drops the rest of his day clothes and climbs into the bath. He settles his arms along the edge of the tub with a long sigh, then tilts his head back at Ren.

“I’ll only take a few minutes,” Martyn says, “You can just hang out, I guess.”

Ren hums to prove he’s heard, then finds a place to lie down somewhere at the edge of the room. His heart stings, though he knows it shouldn’t surprise him.

After all, if Martyn really did think of Ren the way Ren does Martyn, then Ren wouldn’t be lying on cold tile across the room.

Ren turns his head away from Martyn entirely, watching the floor. He hears water slosh as Martyn moves, but he doesn’t think about it. He’ll never be himself again, he knows—the one shot he has to try, and the man doesn’t even think of him as human. If soft hands make him worthy of love, he’ll never measure up.

So he thinks about now. He thinks about his body as it is, as it always will be. In his mind, Martyn doesn’t hold him softly or kiss his paws. He’s too big, too clumsy, too monstrous for gentle care. Instead, Martyn lies on Ren’s bed, torso pinned under one large paw. Claws rest against Martyn’s skin, but they do not break, and Martyn does not fear them. Martyn is perfectly at peace as Ren presses closer, as Ren presses his tongue against Martyn’s face, against his neck, down his arms, across his chest. He tastes of salt after a day spent hard at work, and Ren can feel Martyn’s muscle twitch when he moves, same as how he used to watch. All the while, Martyn scratches at his face, dragging blunt nails down his nose or under his chin, seeking out the sound of Ren’s tail thumping on the bed. Ren’s teeth, large and beastly and out in the open, brush too near to Martyn’s face, and Martyn kisses his exposed fang.

Could Martyn love a monster? Could Ren be worthy like this, too? If the curse can ever break, he’ll have to be.

But Ren always knew his curse was unbreakable, didn’t he?

“—n? Ren? Are you listening to me?” Martyn asks. Ren cracks an eye open—Martyn’s still in the tub, leaning over the edge closest to Ren.

“Hm?” Ren asks, “No, I dozed off.”

“I don’t understand how you fall asleep on the floor so often,” Martyn says, “I’m going to dry off and get dressed, then I’ll help you clean the dust out of your fur. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Ren says, and he doesn’t look away as Martyn stands, reaching for his towel.

If Martyn thinks anything of Ren staring, he doesn’t say.

[queerfandomtrifecta]

How Izzy’s Death Could’ve Made Basic Storytelling Sense

Just to be clear, Izzy is my favorite and I wanted him to live more than anything. This isn’t about that, and that is NOT why I hated his death. Had it served the narrative in a way that made even the most basic storytelling sense, while I’d admittedly have been devastated in a different way (i.e. the character whose queerness was relegated to the subtext in s1 and as soon as it’s textual and his whole arc is that he’s killed, but that’s a whole separate post…), but at least there would’ve been a correctly crafted arc from a surface level narrative standpoint that ended in the death of my favorite character. But that’s not what this is about. It’s is about how the show could’ve actually made the death actually make sense and work effectively. (Also, if you want my unasked for thoughts on how most of the existing plot of s2 (minus 7-8) could’ve easily been adjusted to fix the narrative as a whole and keep Izzy alive, I wrote this)

But. For those in the fandom insisting that Izzy HAD to die, including DJenks who has said as such in interviews (for reasons I do not understand), from an objective developmental editor standpoint, this is what I think needed to change to make Izzy’s death serve the narrative, character arcs and dynamics, pacing, structure, and thematic elements correctly.

It’s about 2K words just so you know what you’re gonna get into. Spoilers under the cut.

Issue 1. Izzy’s relationship with the crew and how they truly became his family this season totally vanished during his death scene. The same crew who he protected from Ed during the later, worse parts of the Kraken phase. The crew who banded together to save his life by hiding him from/lying to Ed about it, and amputating his leg to save him. The crew he saved by crawling up those stairs during the storm, hobbling out into the rain with one leg and shooting Ed before he could shoot a cannon ball through the mast and kill them all. The crew who called him “our dick”. The crew that then banded together with Stede’s half of the crew to him the leg and the new unicorn (aka the figurehead of the ship). That crew didn’t cry a SINGLE tear when he died. What?? Fang sobbed most of episode one and really lost it when Izzy got shot. Where was that when he died?? Izzy’s last speech to Ricky had something along the lines of: piracy is about belonging/family. We are Good. (Forgive me, I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist). Izzy truly did find his family in the crew outside of Ed. That was absolutely fantastic, especially in the first four episodes and episode six. It VANISHED when he was dying and dead.

The fix: To make the death impactful, effective, or even to make it make sense on a very basic acting and writing level, the crew should’ve been utterly DEVASTATED. At least heartbreaking music and like 30 seconds of everyone breaking down and holding each other. At least some of them crying and holding each other in the background when he was dying. Come on.

Issue 2. Thematically speaking, is piracy Good or Bad? Again, Izzy tells Ricky that they (the pirates/his crew) are capital G Good. Yet Ed has spent a lot of time maintaining piracy is capital B Bad. He tells the urchins as such. Here’s some money that I never had, now you don’t have to be pirates. Don’t be pirates. He doesn’t want Stede to kill Ned Low in cold blood. Ed just doesn’t want to be a pirate. Even at the end AFTER Izzy dies telling Ed he’s with his family (implied that this is the crew) and they love Ed, Ed LEAVES THAT FAMILY AND LEAVES PIRACY IMMEDIATELY. We’re left with him and Stede watching the family Izzy swore was Good and loved Ed sail away because Ed thinks piracy is Bad. Which is it?? The death served nothing in convincing Ed he could be happy with his found family on the sea as Ed, not Blackbeard, so the dying words were pointless. The thematic elements are all over the place (for the whole season but that’s another post) and that needs changing to make the death scene make sense.

The fix: Izzy should’ve told him he sees he doesn’t want to pirate anymore, he’s glad he’s found love with Stede because Izzy isn’t going to make it, go run your fokkin’ inn, you twat (affectionate).

Issue 3. Izzy died of bad planning and bad luck. Why didn’t they take the gun from Ricky? Between Spanish Jackie, Izzy, and Jim, SOMEONE would’ve thought about it. If not those three, someone else would’ve, but come one. One if not all of those three would’ve known better. Yeah, Izzy happened to be standing in front of Ed and he got shot instead of him, but you’ve gotta be REALLY looking for that to even be aware it’s what happened. It wasn’t even on purpose unless Ed strategically placed himself behind Izzy (which I doubt was the intent). Izzy didn’t position himself protectively/take the bullet for anyone on purpose. It was just happenstance and you only notice it if you’re rewatching and hyper-analyzing everything (which a lot of us, me included, in the fandom do, but casual watchers don’t. It’s totally unclear as far as the surface level narrative goes) Any sort of “heroism” is not acknowledged, it’s barely even noticeable in the shot. If that was the intent, it HAD to be clearer and acknowledged by the characters so the audience would realize the stakes and repercussions of clear choices. As it is, I don’t think it was intentional. If Izzy HAS to die, it should truly have rounded out his arc in a way that CLEARLY changed the course of the scene, leaving him to protect people he’d put in danger at the end of s1. It didn’t. It just read as terrible planning to the point of it being out of character for more than one character, and bad luck.

The fix: Izzy should’ve saved someone. I personally don’t like the idea of it being Ed. I’s have rather he save Stede (Not really, but it’s better than Ed I guess) But really Izzy should’ve died saving the crew. The crew makes the most sense to me, narratively speaking. He’s their figurehead, he’s protected the Kraken Crew for months and they should’ve been fiercely loyal to him, he blames himself for what Ed did to them (more on this later) so it makes sense for him to fiercely protect his crew. His family. Who should’ve been devastated that it happened because Izzy is the one character of the main three who’s managed to earn that status this season.

Issue 4. The death did not serve to move the plot along. There are literally zero things that would’ve been different for the end of the episode, save Izzy being alive and on the Revenge in his rightful role he earned with his crew as the captain, if he’d have lived. Ed and Stede aren’t partnering with Zheng to go after the guy who killed him in the next season. Nope. They got the offer but nah. They’re running an Inn. Which Izzy would’ve supported based on literally everything we’ve seen from him in episodes 5-8. The crew who Izzy protected fiercely and who viewed him as their leader? Not one tear during his death or the the funeral. Happily sailing away to do presumably more Muppet Treasure Island hijinks. No character development happened. No plot development happened. The season could’ve ended literally the EXACT SAME WAY with Izzy alive aboard the Revenge!!! No stakes were changed at all. No one was impacted enough for it to seem like it was even going to be a plot obstacle next season. It just happened, Izzy’s toxic situationship who maimed him multiple times over the course of months to the point of his leg needing to be amputated was sad for one (1) scene, then we moved on and did not seem sad at all at the funeral. What.

The fix: The plot should’ve been driven by the death. Ed and Stede (but especially Ed), and DEFINITELY the crew should’ve been sailing off plotting to avenge the death and defend piracy against Ricky and the British, especially with Zheng who lost her whole fleet. Ricky and the British are clearly (or so I hope, nothing’s clear here anymore tbh) the primary antagonist for the theoretical third season. No one should be running an whim-based inn for fun or sailing off happily into the sunset after the death of the most major character aside from Ed and Stede, who beyond proved himself a major part of something every character (his family) should’ve cared about this season. If he HAD to die, that death should have furthered the plot. But instead, it seems everyone shrugged it off with tears exclusively from Ed.

Issue 5. Izzy got shot in the left side. The side in which canonically NO ONE DOES FROM BEING INJURED ON IN THE OFMD UNIVERSE.

The fix: Yeah I know this is just too nit-picky but it was also just SO sloppy. Like just shoot him on the other side if he has to die, because this was a very memorable plot point more than once in s1. Like, come on y’all.

Disclaimer: Issues/fixes 1-5 would all need to happen together to truly fix it and make the death serve the narrative correctly. Issue/fix 6 is a totally separate route, which I personally hate, but at least the narrative would’ve made sense this way.

Issue 6. The idea that Izzy had to die so that Ed could be free of Blackbeard makes no sense at this point in the story. Ed already threw away his leathers and gave away his treasure to symbolically get rid of Blackbeard, and Izzy very sweetly encouraged him to follow the feeling that throwing out the leathers gave him. Izzy told Stede that he and Ed were good for each other. They balance each other out. Izzy is on good terms with both of them and their relationship, so Izzy “having to die” so Ed could flourish as Ed genuinely makes no sense and came totally out of left field.

The fix for 6: This one stands alone and is my absolute least favorite option, but if it HAD to happen without the 1-5 fixes, here’s how it could’ve made sense. If THIS is truly the way it was going to end, Izzy needed to be continuously antagonistic or avoidant to at least Ed and actually be shown holding Ed back from happiness until that last second. He wasn’t. He was so much better. Izzy clearly does blame himself (that’s for a separate post because I have lots of thoughts there) but to be fair they were both abusive in that relationship, for years it seems. Although I think by the beginning of s2, the power dynamic has clearly flipped and it was Ed who was doing most of it and Izzy was exhausted and knowingly “reaping what he’d sewed” (I don’t Blame Izzy for his abuse but I think this was his mindset) so the crew wouldn’t get the brunt of it.

If he seriously HAD to die because the writers just had to have it that way, those are the changes I think would’ve made the narrative work/make sense, served all the character arcs and dynamics correctly, and actually driven the plot as fictional deaths are supposed to, compelling things into a third season. Seriously, this season finale was a mess of baffling choices the most series finale season finale I’ve ever seen.

Anyway. There’s my unsolicited two-cents. Now back to hoping Izzy’s in the gravy basket waiting to be sea witch necromancied back by seagull Buttons in season 3. I love this show and I hate hating what I hate hating about it because it’s my absolute favorite and I can’t stand it because it’s fantastic and the worst thing I’ve ever seen. (Also, Izzy should’ve lived).

[night-daily]

I'll choose you, always | Peter Maximoff x fem! reader

summary: A guy tries to flirt with you while your boyfriend, Peter, is away on a mission in another country but he finds out and doesn't waste a second in making things clear to him.

warnings: none.

a/n: should i write for peter now??

a/n 2: english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes!

Everyone at the mutant school knows you and Peter are together. That you can't be away from the other for long, well more exactly, Peter, your friends say he looks like a lost puppy when you aren't around.

You two come as a package. And it was cute to see you holding hands and acting lovely but sometimes it was disgusting, especially when the others just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but oh surprise, you and Peter are making out. You placed up on the table (or whatever surface is near) and Peter is between your legs, kissing you with passion when he notices the presence of someone else in the kitchen, “can't stop looking creep?” and all they can do is to turn back on their feet and mumbling apologies while feeling their faces turn red.

So when the Professor needed Peter to go on a mission to the other side of the world with Hank, you two spent more time together if that was even possible. Your friends loved your relationship but they wouldn't be lying if they said they weren't happy about you and your boyfriend spending some time apart, “Imagine going to the kitchen and being able to eat a fruit instead of a sexual scene” you would only roll your eyes and laugh.

The day of the mission came, Peter kissed you and promised you to come back soon and you believed him, after all, he was Quicksilver. He and Hank will be off at least for three days, so you could concentrate fully in your classes or at least that's what you thought.

When they left, a few hours later a new student arrived with a grin on his face watching all the girls bodies without even hiding it, but when he saw you walking in his direction, the grin on his face was bigger.

You were deep in thought, not caring about the people around you, “Hey, I'm—” You just walked past him, and his grin disappeared, did you just ignore me? He ran after you and stood in front of you, making you stop and almost fall, he stabilized you by grabbing your arm.

“Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was walking” You apologized and tried to pass him again but the hold in your arm was firm. “If you want to apologize, why don't you show me the school? I'm new and would like some help from a pretty girl like you” Pretty girl, that's Peter's nickname for you, and hearing it from another man's mouth, was gross.

“Don't call me pretty girl, ever again” And your power emerged, the heat from your body was directed to his hand, burning it a bit before he let you go with pain on his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day was very cold, and even if your power was to create fire and you could even regulate your body temperature to avoid getting cold, you didn't, because then you would miss the chance to use one of Peter's jackets and hell you're gonna do that.

You dialed your boyfriend's number and after the first ringtone, he picked up “Did y'know it's 3 am here?” He tried to act mad but you knew by the sound of his sweet voice, he was far to be mad.

“Oh sorry, I would call you later the—” “DON'T YOU DARE” Your laugh echoed through the phone and the halls of your room, he wished he was there to watch the way your smile lightens your face.

“So how's the mission going?” “Awful, it's horrible. I can't believe the Professor sent me on this mission without you, when I get back tomorrow, should I steal his wheelchair in revenge?” Peter replied with no hesitation, “Peter” you said but you were ignored, “I'm gonna return it babe, just gonna do some modifications, I promise”, “Peter you better let me talk or you're gonna need the wheelchair” He stopped talking for a second and even hold his breath.

You opened your mouth but were interrupted again, “I'm gonna need his wheelchair 'cause you're gonna fuck my ass so I won't be able to walk?” “Peter that's not—” But on second thought “Wait, don't distract me, Peter I think it's good for us to spend some time apart, you could make some friends and—” “Who needs friends? I have you! You're not just my girlfriend, you're my best friend too, y'know that right?”

Just his words make your heart beat faster, how could someone have this kind of power over you?

A knock on your door and Peter was groaning, “Oh come on! I just made the best declaration of love and now is ruined” “I'm just gonna ignore it, keep going—” Another knock and you were frustrated just like your boyfriend, “gimme a second” you put your phone on the shelf next to the door.

When you opened the door, you were expecting to see Jean, Scott or just anyone else but him.

“Good morning pretty girl, it's pretty cold, isn't it?” your boyfriend was fuming, who the heck was that guy? and why is he calling you pretty girl? You are his pretty girl! “Yeah, it is. Look I'm busy right now, so could you leave, please?” Your fake smile could be seen miles away but he didn't see it, of course. “So you're cold too? That's great 'cause I was thinking of a way to keep us warm, it includes you, me and your bed...” He got closer to you, making you step back and he took this as a sign to get into your room, “and no clothes”

Peter jumped out of bed like a missile and started running to the mansion, to you. He was pretty sure he had broken his record at the Olympics. When he arrived at your room, you were clearly uncomfortable and he knew you could handle the situation, but there was this feeling in his chest, a heavy feeling yelling at him to do something to the guy who was harassing his girl.

And he listened to this feeling, he grabbed the guy by his shirt, dragging him around the mansion, not caring if he hit his head or a part of his body. When Peter got outside, the fountain caught his attention.

A mischievous smile was on his face, “I think you need a shower, enjoy it” and in one blink, he was in front of you, holding you by your waist, “I will never be separated from you again” and he crashed his lips with yours, you're confused and ready to attack but when you see it's Peter, you relax and return the kiss, crossing your arms behind his neck, bringing closer and making him smile.

[faeriekit]

Chet is adorable

My beautiful TimKon clone baby, Chester Thomas FakeLastName!!

I also love him, which I'm sure is clear and obvious 🥰I like to think that he's got all of Tim's interests, but, like, Kon's stable parenting style and a healthy respect for boundaries. Which. Tim. Uh. Let's be polite and say he perhaps lacks the ability to hold back haha

Narratively, I'm also Pro:

Chet not realizing he has superpowers! He's eight! Kids can't keep secrets! They snitch on themselves constantly! A kid told me this morning after storytime that her mom's car had to go off the road and onto the grass because of another car, for no particular reason; no way Kon would tell him anything when they're on the run and off-radar, so he just...lies to the pediatrician a lot! It'll probably be fine...right? Clark survived to adulthood! 😅

Chet having a miniature "finding out who a superhero is by being in the right place and being smart about it" arc in the same way Tim found out who Robin and Batman are. Get wrecked, Clark; your grandkid can recognize you from a mile away. Literally. He's got his noise cancelling headphones on and can still hear you. Maybe he should like see a doctor or smthing that sounds unhealthy...

Tim introducing himself as the second dad 0.005 minutes after almost blowing himself up destroying the League assassins after them. I think Chet would be inclined to believe him. They look similar and Tim walks him through the steps to ignite homemade fertilizer explosives in a way you definitely shouldn't tell a kid, but Chet is genuinely interested and Tim doesn't understand age appropriate learning, so...

Chet regularly lying to Bats. Chet didn't grow up in Gotham. What does he care? So what if he's Batman; he's just some guy. He's going to say stuff to these weird people and see if they believe it. I think Kon would stop it if he sees it going down, but Tim would just sip and watch while Chet outlines a field trip he never took that got interrupted by villains he never met to a rapturously listening Dick Grayson. Dick is mentally filing away this villain under his 'new enemies' mental file and Chet is just making stuff up on the fly because he wants to see where this goes.

Chet being the creepy and quiet Super. He's not actually either, but compared to the more common Kent extreme extroverts...it's a very striking comparison lmao

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to ramble!!🥰 I sort of want to do a Tim+Kon+Chester reuniting scene, but I haven't fully mapped out how I want it to look yet...

[muiitoloko]

Oh my god I just finished watching Nobel son like 20 minutes ago and i thought to myself I NEED a fic that has the reader as a superhero AND YOU HAVE IT live saver omg

Title: Web of Desperation.

Summary: Eli's attempt at bravery against the Green Goblin nearly ends in disaster, until Spider-Man steps in to save him.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fighting, chaos, anger.

Author's Notes: I’m honestly blown away that you guys liked the idea so much! When I started this, I didn’t really plan on continuing—it was just a way to clear my head. But I’m thrilled that some of you enjoyed it! Now, you’ll just have to wait a few more centuries for the next chapter. 😅 Thanks for sticking around!

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

Eli swore as he sat in the traffic jam, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. He glanced at his watch, realizing he was going to be late for his lecture at the university. The lines of cars stretched as far as the eye could see, barely inching forward.

"What the hell is causing this?" he muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting. He noticed people getting out of their cars, craning their necks to see what was happening. With a resigned sigh, Eli did the same, stepping out of his car and wondering what fresh hell was unfolding.

The scene was chaotic. People were pointing and shouting, their faces twisted with fear and confusion. Eli pushed his way through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his irritation. As he reached the front of the mass of people, he saw the cause of the commotion.

Hovering above the street was a figure clad in a dark green, armored suit, a grotesque mask with a manic grin covering his face. The figure cackled maniacally, riding on a glider that emitted a low, sinister hum. Eli's blood ran cold as he recognized the villain from news reports: the Green Goblin.

"Good morning, citizens of New York!" the Green Goblin's voice boomed through the street, dripping with mockery and malevolence. "I hope you're all having a fantastic day because I plan to make it a memorable one!"

The Goblin raised his hand, revealing a pumpkin-shaped bomb. He tossed it into the crowd, sending people scattering in terror. Eli's instincts kicked in, and he dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the explosion that followed. The blast rocked the street, leaving a crater where the bomb had landed.

Eli scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. He needed to find cover, to get away from this madman. He darted into a nearby alley, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the Green Goblin's deranged laughter echoing through the street, punctuated by the screams of frightened civilians.

Peering around the corner, Eli saw the Green Goblin swoop down, grabbing a woman by her hair and lifting her into the air. "Let's see if anyone here can play hero," the Goblin sneered, dangling the woman over the edge of his glider.

Eli's mind raced with anger and fear. He was no hero, but he couldn't just stand by and watch this madness unfold. He glanced around, spotting a length of pipe lying among the debris. He grabbed it, his knuckles white with tension.

"Hey, Goblin!" he shouted, stepping out into the open. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The Green Goblin's head snapped around, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. He dropped the woman unceremoniously onto the rooftop below and turned his attention to Eli.

"And who might you be?" the Goblin taunted, his glider drifting closer. "A brave little lamb come to the slaughter?"

Eli's grip on the pipe tightened, his heart pounding in his chest. Why did he get himself into this? Why didn't he just run for his life and let the others fend for themselves? Eli cursed himself, but his pride wouldn't let him back down now. He did what he did best: act arrogant and belittle others.

"Listen here, you tin-can reject from a Halloween store," Eli snarled, trying to mask his fear with bravado. "Why don't you take your second-rate theatrics somewhere else? Or are you too scared to face someone with an IQ above room temperature?"

The Green Goblin's eyes flashed with rage. "You dare mock me, you insignificant worm? I'll crush you like the insect you are!"

Goblin advanced towards Eli on his glider, the mechanical wings slicing through the air with a menacing hum. Eli’s grip on the pipe faltered, and he let go in surprise as Goblin's clawed hand shot out, seizing him by the throat. The cold metal pressed into Eli's skin, and he gasped as he was hoisted into the air.

"Not so arrogant now, are we?" the Goblin jeered, his voice a venomous hiss. Eli clawed at Goblin's arm, his eyes wide with fear as the ground fell away beneath him. They soared higher and higher, the city shrinking below, until the skyscrapers seemed like mere toys.

"Please, wait! Let's talk about this," Eli stammered, desperation clear in his voice. "You don't want to do this. You're a genius, a real visionary!"

Goblin's laughter was a dark, grating sound. "Flattery won't save you," he sneered. "But it's amusing to see you beg."

Without warning, Goblin released his grip. Eli's scream tore through the air as he plummeted, the wind whipping past him in a dizzying rush. Panic clawed at his mind, and he braced for the impact that would surely be his end.

Just as Eli was about to meet the ground, a firm grip caught him, halting his fall. The air was knocked out of his lungs, and he clung desperately to his savior. Eli's heart raced as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight.

"Looks like I caught something more annoying than a cat in a tree," quipped Spider-Man, his tone light and teasing. He swung effortlessly through the air, his web shooters propelling them both to safety.

Eli's relief was quickly replaced by fury. "You!" he spat, recognizing the red and blue suit. "I didn't ask for your help!"

"Well, excuse me for saving your life," Spider-Man shot back, a smirk evident behind his mask. "Next time, I'll let you become a street pancake."

Spider-Man landed gracefully on a nearby rooftop, setting Eli down with a flourish. "There you go, safe and sound. Try not to get into any more trouble, okay, Professor Michaelson?"

Eli's face twisted in rage as he glared at the masked hero. "I don't need your pity," he snarled. "And I certainly don't need you to play the hero for me."

Spider-Man shrugged, unfazed by Eli's outburst. "Hey, just doing my job. But seriously, maybe leave the hero stuff to the professionals. You’re better suited to scaring undergrads with pop quizzes."

Eli's fists clenched, his pride burning at the indignity of it all. How dare Spider-Man save him? How dare he humiliate him in front of everyone?

He stared after the masked hero, watching as Spider-Man launched himself with a web to go deal with the Green Goblin. Something Spider-Man had said lingered in Eli's mind. Wait, how did Spider-Man know that Eli was a professor? Eli opened his mouth to shout after him, running to the edge of the rooftop.

"Hey, Spider-Man!" he called out, his voice tinged with frustration. "How did you know I was a teacher?"

But Spider-Man was already swinging through the air, ignoring Eli's question as he pursued the Green Goblin. Eli's anger boiled over. He shouted after Spider-Man again, his voice echoing through the city streets.

"Come back here! I'm not done with you!"

Spider-Man paid no heed, his attention focused on the chaotic scene below where the Green Goblin continued to wreak havoc. Eli watched, seething, as Spider-Man closed in on the villain, deftly dodging the Goblin's attacks with acrobatic finesse.

The Green Goblin threw another pumpkin bomb, and Spider-Man quickly webbed it up, tossing it skyward where it exploded harmlessly. The Goblin screeched in frustration, his glider dipping and weaving erratically as he tried to shake Spider-Man off his tail.

Eli's anger turned to a mix of fear and awe as he watched the battle unfold. He could see the Green Goblin's eyes glowing with madness, his laughter echoing through the city. It was like a scene from a nightmare, the kind of chaos that could only exist in a world where supervillains and heroes clashed in the sky.

Suddenly, the Goblin's glider malfunctioned, sputtering and losing altitude. He careened towards the rooftop where Eli stood, and without thinking, Eli dove out of the way, barely avoiding the crashing glider. The impact sent a shockwave through the building, shaking the very foundations.

Eli scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. He saw the Green Goblin rising from the wreckage, his mask cracked but his malevolent grin intact. The villain's eyes locked onto Eli, and a chill ran down his spine.

"Ah, the brave insect," the Goblin sneered, advancing towards him. "You thought you could challenge me? Pathetic."

Eli backed away, his mind racing. He had to get out of here, but there was nowhere to run. The Goblin raised his arm, a menacing blade extending from his gauntlet, and Eli's life flashed before his eyes.

"Not so fast, Gobby!" Spider-Man's voice rang out, and Eli turned to see the hero swinging in at the last moment, kicking the Green Goblin square in the chest and sending him flying backward.

Spider-Man landed in front of Eli, his stance protective. "You okay, Professor?" he quipped, glancing over his shoulder. "Maybe next time, stick to grading papers and leave the bad guys to me."

Eli's pride flared up again. "I don't need your help, Spider-Man," he snapped, though his voice trembled with the remnants of fear. "I can handle myself."

"Yeah, you were doing a bang-up job of it," Spider-Man shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lunatic to deal with."

Spider-Man turned his attention back to the Green Goblin, who was already getting back on his feet, ready for another round. The two clashed again, trading blows and quips as they danced through the ruins of the rooftop.

Eli watched, a mix of horror and fascination playing across his face. He couldn't deny the skill and bravery Spider-Man displayed, even as he resented the hero's presence. Despite his hatred for the masked vigilante, a small part of him was grudgingly impressed.

The Green Goblin let out an angry scream, realizing he was not going to win this battle. Desperation flashed in his eyes as he grabbed a pumpkin bomb from the wreckage of his glider. With a wild swing, he hurled the bomb, missing Spider-Man by a mile. But Spider-Man quickly realized the bomb's true target: a nearby news helicopter, hovering to film the fight.

As the bomb struck the helicopter's tail, the aircraft spun wildly, its balance lost. Spider-Man's eyes widened in horror as the helicopter spiraled out of control, descending rapidly toward the ground.

"Not today, Gobby!" Spider-Man shouted, leaping into action.

The Green Goblin seized the opportunity to flee, jumping from the building and disappearing into the cityscape below. But Spider-Man had no time to worry about the escaping villain; the people in the helicopter needed him.

He swung into the air, webs shooting out with precision. "I always wanted to be on the news, but this is ridiculous!" he quipped, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere as he approached the helicopter.

Spider-Man landed on the helicopter's skidding tail, the wind from the rotors whipping around him. He shot web after web, anchoring the aircraft to the nearby buildings, trying to slow its descent. "Hold on tight, folks! Spidey Airlines is here for a safe, but bumpy landing!"

The pilots and the reporter inside the helicopter were pale with fear, clutching their seats as Spider-Man fought to stabilize the aircraft. His muscles strained as he pulled against the force of gravity, his webs stretching but holding firm.

"Just another day in the life," Spider-Man muttered to himself, shooting another web to the rooftop of a nearby skyscraper. The helicopter's descent slowed, but it was still spinning out of control.

"Okay, new plan," Spider-Man said, his mind racing. He leapt to the front of the helicopter, gripping the nose tightly. "Time to play tug-of-war with gravity!"

Using every ounce of his strength, Spider-Man pulled the helicopter's nose upward, trying to level it out. The aircraft wobbled precariously but began to steady. He then shot more webs to nearby buildings, creating a complex web network to catch the helicopter.

"Come on, baby, you can do this," he grunted, his muscles burning with effort. "I've got you!"

Finally, the helicopter's spinning stopped, and it hovered, tangled in Spider-Man's webbing. The crowd below erupted in cheers as the pilots regained control, safely lowering the helicopter to the ground.

Spider-Man landed lightly on the street, his chest heaving from the exertion. He turned to the crowd, giving a mock bow. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you catch a helicopter!"

The pilots and the reporter emerged, visibly shaken but unharmed. They approached Spider-Man, gratitude shining in their eyes. "Thank you, Spider-Man. You saved our lives."

"Just doing my job," Spider-Man replied with a grin.

Someone then shouted for Spider-Man, and you turned around to see Eli running up to you, looking a little out of breath. As he reached you, his face was a mix of frustration and curiosity.

"Spider, wait!" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency. "How the hell did you know I was a teacher?"

You froze for a split second, feeling the weight of his question. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Quickly, you responded, your voice steady but a bit nervous. "I read a lot of newspapers, Professor Michaelson. I saw that you won the Nobel Prize, so I did some research about it."

Eli's expression shifted from suspicion to surprise, his eyes widening slightly. "Research, huh?" he muttered, clearly caught off guard.

Sensing the opportunity, you launched a web to a nearby building. "Yep, just a curious web-slinger," you quipped, giving him a quick salute. "Stay safe, Professor."

As you swung away, a crowd began to gather, cheering and clapping for you. "We love you, Spider-Man!" they shouted, their voices filled with admiration and relief.

The police, firefighters, and paramedics arrived on the scene, adding to the commotion. You knew it was your cue to leave before anyone else could ask more questions. You launched another web, swinging gracefully into the air as the crowd's applause followed you.

Meanwhile, away from the chaos, the Green Goblin landed on the balcony of his mansion. He dismounted his damaged glider with a heavy sigh, exhaustion evident in his posture. The grand balcony doors opened to his opulent bedroom, the heavy curtains fluttering in the breeze. As he entered, he tore off his grotesque mask and flung it aside, the metallic clank echoing through the room.

He approached the large, ornate mirror hanging on the wall and stared at his reflection, his eyes dark and weary. He rubbed his face, the reality of his dual life pressing heavily on his shoulders. "Why do we do this?" he muttered to himself, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and despair. "What's the point if we can't even get rid of that damn meddling spider?"

The Green Goblin's reflection seemed to shift, contorting into an image of pure rage. His eyes darkened, and a sinister grin spread across his face as the Goblin within him took over.

"Failure is not an option," the Goblin hissed, his tone dripping with venom. "We will destroy Spider-Man, one way or another. He won't stand in our way forever."

The man in the mirror clenched his fists, his anger simmering just below the surface. "We'll find your weakness, Spider-Man," he vowed. "And when we do, you will beg for mercy. I won't fail."

The reflection seemed to respond, its eyes gleaming with malice. "You better not, Shahbandar. We can't afford any more failures."

The man, now revealed as Lionel Shahbandar, turned away from the mirror, his jaw set with determination. "I won't fail," he vowed quietly. "Next time, Spider-Man won't be so lucky."

He paced the room, the tension in his body palpable. The weight of his ambitions and the constant pressure of his villainous alter ego were taking their toll. His mind raced, plotting his next move, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

"Goblin," he muttered, almost as if addressing his darker self, "we need a new plan. Something that will finally put an end to that meddling spider once and for all."

As he continued to strategize, the mask of the Green Goblin lay discarded on the floor, a symbol of the madness and chaos that defined his other life. The mansion's opulence contrasted sharply with the turmoil within its walls, a stark reminder of the duality that plagued Lionel Shahbandar.

Back in the city, you swung through the air, the adrenaline of the day's events still coursing through your veins. As Spider-Man, you reveled in the freedom of the sky, the wind rushing past you as you zipped from building to building. The cheers of the crowd were a distant memory now, replaced by the familiar hum of the city below.

"Another day, another psycho with a bomb," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. "Seriously, do these guys ever take a day off?"

As you swung past a skyscraper, you spotted your reflection in the glass. The familiar red and blue suit clung to your form, a second skin that hid your true identity from the world. No one knew that behind the mask, Spider-Man was a woman. It was a secret you guarded fiercely, knowing that it added an extra layer of protection to your double life.

"At least the Green Goblin's out of commission for now," you mused, your thoughts drifting back to the fight. "But something tells me he won't stay down for long."

You landed gracefully on a rooftop, taking a moment to catch your breath. The city stretched out before you, a sprawling landscape of lights and shadows. It was a beautiful sight, one that reminded you why you did what you did.

"Alright, time to get back to class," you muttered, glancing at the time. "Better make up a good excuse."

[cumsuga]

Wasted Times Pt 4

yoongi x fem!reader jungkook x fem!reader

genre. SMUT, fluff, angst, Romance, established relationship!AU 18+ (Minors DNI)

Who knew trying to stay sober would be so hard? The guilt. Everyone talks about how much guilt you experience when you cheat, and it’s always the guilt for cheating and regretting it. But what no one ever talks about is the guilt that comes from cheating and enjoying it. 

warnings: mentions of alcoholism, violence (someone gets smacked *cough* Yoongi *cough*), Handjob, infidelity, plot twists on plot twists, Yoongi is not a good person ILTHHBIHTLH, Jungkook is the bestest boy as always, SUB!YOONGI but only for reader no one else

word count: 4k

A/N: I honestly feel like you can tell this was kinda rushed, but I felt bad for leaving you all hanging for an entire year. Please forgive me, I'll give you kisses! Anyway, GIVE ME FEEDBACK, but be nice cause I'm sensitive...

 You spend the whole day trying to justify what you just did and with your boss. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. In fact, it made you feel how you felt when you drank. All warm and fuzzy inside. It was nice to have the feeling back, but you didn't know if it was what was best for you. You felt like Yoongi would be another thing you couldn't let go of. You knew you were fucked, and you hated it.

You watch Yoongi act like nothing happened, like he didn’t just fuck you in the back of a black car. He works like you’re more annoying to him now, being a bit more demanding. When you finally have a chance, you tell him you need to talk to him. He tells you in a minute and to wait for him in the green room before shooing you away. You don't think you've ever wanted to punch someone in the face so bad, but that was until you met him.

So, like he asks, that’s just what you do. After an eternity of pacing back and forth,  trying to rationalize cheating to yourself, he enters the room. “You needed to talk. I’m listening,” he says, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the couch. He doesn’t let you sit, choosing to have you stand between his legs. “Talk to me, angel.”

“First of all, whatever you’re trying to do here, stop it.” you swat his hands off your thighs and take a couple steps back, “Second, what happened in the car can never and will never happen again. It was a mistake. After this discussion, we will never talk about it again.  Am I making myself clear?”

He smirks at you. “Oh angel, you dim little thing,” he stands and walks over to you, “I can stop whenever I want, but as they say, ‘everything beautiful is ruined eventually.’” he tucks a loose strand behind your ear. “And that, my dear, is you.”

And with that, he walks out of the room. You’re left there confused because what the fuck does that mean? Did he just call you ugly and stupid? Did he say he’s going to ruin your life? The conversation left you with more questions than answers. So, like the hardheaded person you were, you follow after him. At this point, you didn’t care about your job; you cared about this getting back to Jungkook and destroying him. When you catch up to Yoongi, you whisper to him, “Unless you want me to make a scene and embarrass you, I suggest you get back in that FUCKING room.” Putting extra emphasis on the word fucking so that he knew you were serious. All eyes were on you two because, despite whispering, it sounded angry, so he obliges you and walks back. If it was one thing he hated, it was people staring at him like he was an object on display.

“1. You will leave this room when and if we come to a mutual understanding. 2. If we do not come to a mutual understanding, I will catch the next flight out of here, and you will never see me again. And you can explain to our company why I ruined such a huge event, and so help me god, if he ever finds out about this–” he cuts you off laughing

“PFFT! You’re cute when you’re angry.” he finally catches your eyes and sees that you’re not fucking around. You’re dead serious, and in his 30 years of life, he’s never been afraid of a woman like he is of you.

“Sit. Down,” you say through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring. And like he’s going to win an award for being so obedient he sits his ass right on that couch. “I’m not fucking playing with you, Yoongi. This isn’t a joke; this is my life. You can go on after this carefree because that's who you are. Rockstar Min Yoongi can do whatever he wants whenever he wants. But me, me, I have real consequences, I. Will. Lose. Every. Thing! I need you to get that through your thick fucking skull! THIS ISNT A FUCKING GAME!”

Tears are streaming down your face, but he looks annoyed now. That same stupid fucking face on his face. But you don’t know that Yoongi is in defense mode and will bite like most cornered animals. “Don’t ever talk to me like that. News flash, baby girl, I didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, so don’t try and get up on some fucking moral high ground because you have some boyfriend who, by the way, you treat like shit. You wanted to fuck me. I simply gave you what you’ve been dying for. You know, once an addict, always an addict, not my fault you traded in drinking yourself into a coma for dick.” And before you can even process what your body is doing, you slapped him. It wasn’t some bullshit “for tv” slap. No, it was loud. It had his ears ringing and your palm stinging.

“Don’t you EVER try and act like you fucking know me and throw something you know nothing about in my fucking face. You know what? FUCK you, I’m leaving. Good luck with your miserable life.” And with that, you collect your things and flee back to the hotel. Yoongi is left standing there in shock and awe.

When you finally return to the hotel, a million people set up a million things in the room. You put on a brave face while you bob and weave through what seems like an ocean of people. When you finally enter the private bedroom and hear the door close behind you, you let it all loose. Sobbing into the pillows. How dare he, you think, throw something so serious in your face. But fuck it, at this point, if everyone thinks you’re an alcoholic, let’s show them one. You open the mini bar and fish one of the bottles, and before you can crack the seal on the mini vodka, your phone rings. So you answer it, “Yoongi, I don't wanna-”

“Yoongi? Uh, no, it’s your boyfriend? Baby, are you crying?” as soon as you hear Jungkook's voice, you cry even harder. “Y/N? Baby, hey, hey, calm down. Talk to me, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

LIE! You tell yourself. Lie right now and save your relationship. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was just watching a sad movie, and it made me miss you, and then you called. It was like fate or something.” You sniffle into the phone. 

“Oh, my baby. You’re so cute, I miss you too! Just 5 more days, and you get to come home to me.” He coos, and you instantly feel more at peace. Not taking that drink was worth it, and god, did you want that drink.

“Actually, I was thinking about coming home early, like tomorrow, maybe?” You say, still sniffling

He lets out a soft chuckle, “Baby, as much as I want you here, I think your boss would be pretty pissed if you just up and left. Stick it out like the fighter I know you are. You got this. I believe in you. By the time you come home, it’ll be a week before our anniversary, and I’ll take you wherever you wanna go. I already talked to Jimin and Yoongi, and we're taking 2 weeks. Just me and you. Sound good?”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful.” You sigh

“Good, now tell me, how’s Paris?”

You guys talked for an hour before saying I love you and goodbyes. When you get off the phone, there is a light knock on the door. “Ms. Y/N, we're ready for you at hair and make-up.” You tell them to give you a moment, and they say okay and leave. So, in that moment, you take all the little bottles of alcohol and pour them down the drain. You’re not going to leave Paris defeated. Especially not after everything you’ve been through. So you get glammed up and put your dress on. By the time you’re done, Yoongi is returning to the hotel.

While getting your hair and makeup done, you decide that you’re going to play Yoongi’s games, but they’re gonna be your rules. When he’s done getting ready, you pull him to the side and apologize for hitting him. “I understand if you want to part ways after this. I will exit quietly–”

He shushes you, “Oh Angel, though it pains me to say it because I never thought I would, I think I’m in love with you. So, with that being said, I forgive. I forgave you the minute it happened because I know you didn’t mean it.” He cups your cheek, and you lean into his palm.  “You’re gonna stay here with me until I give you back to Jungkook. Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, nodding. He pecks you gently, and for a split second, you lose your resolve, but it’s quickly regained when he pulls away. “ I have something for you, Angel.” He says, handing you a small Valentino box. “You can tell Jungkook you got them as a gift from the designer.”

You open the box and see the nicest pair of earrings you've ever seen. They’re fully wrapped in baguette crystals. “Yoongi, I’m sorry, I can’t accept these. These look way too expensive.” You’re both in awe and annoyed. Why does he think he can buy your love? Could he buy your love? No! The only person that has your love is Jungkook, ONLY him. You only love him… right?

“Are you sure? I know they’d look beautiful on you.” he takes them out of the box and puts them on for you. “I know you’re wearing Versace, but people mix brands all the time, and I’m right. Absolutely stunning.” He pecks your nose and walks away to pour some champagne. 

You watch him, realizing he never even apologized for not only calling you an alcoholic but a slut too, and a fire starts inside you. You’re determined to ruin Yoongi, make him miss the mere sight of you. “You know I can’t drink that, right? I traded alcohol in for dick, remember?” you say, giggling, but your throat is dry like you’re dying for that champagne. You push the thoughts away quickly. Flooding them with the happy life you want to have with Jungkook, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children.

“Oh shit, yeah. Fuck, I’ll pour it out. I’m sorry.” he moves around the room, collecting any type of alcohol and taking it to the bathroom.

“You understand that if you want to be with me, you have to stop drinking as well, right? Like it’s non-negotiable. I’m serious about my recovery.” You say, fixing the lipstick, he messed up. You thought, ‘God, I can’t wait to go home.’ You find it sad because you like Yoongi. You don’t know why, but you do. Maybe it’s because he is the complete opposite of Jungkook. He was crass, rude, and annoying as fuck, but it drove you crazy. He made you feel tingles all over your body, and you fucking hated it but loved it just as much. 

“I know, baby, I just got excited. I’m happy that you wanna stay with me. Maybe you could—” he’s cut off by a girl bursting into the room. 

“Baby!! I missed you so much!” she runs to him and kisses him. Yoongi goes sheet white like he’s seen a ghost, and you can’t believe your eyes. You’re astonished, laughing softly to yourself because, boy oh boy, he’s fucked.

“Princess, I thought you said you weren’t coming..” he looks over at you and then back at the mystery girl. She finally realizes you’re in the room and looks-* over at you like you’re the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen. 

“Baby, who is this?” she looks up at Yoongi, then back at you.

“I’m Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi��s assistant.” You smile the most sickeningly sweet smile. If it’s one thing you know, many women were intimidated by you. I mean, why wouldn’t they be? You were beautiful, curvy, and friendly. As they say, bitches be hating.

“Well, I’m Hayoon, Yoongi’s girlfriend. You can go away now; he and I have some catching up to do.” She smiles back at you. 

“Oh.” you pout. “Well, that's too bad. We actually have to leave right now. Valentino is starting soon. I could call and see if you could come? Though it looks like you’re not dressed for the occasion. Let’s go, Mr. Min; we have to be there by 5 for the preshow party.” You turn and leave the room. She starts complaining as soon as you leave the room, going on and on about how he needs to fire you for being so rude, and he argues back that she was being just as harsh and that she needs to stop acting like a brat or go home. She relents and he walks out of the room and collects some personal items. 

“Baby, go to the house. I’ll meet you there later,” he says to her, and she pouts before leaving. 

You two get into the car, and it’s awkwardly quiet. “So, I guess I’m not the only slut, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up. She’s not my girlfriend. We occasionally have sex whenever I’m in Paris.” he’s rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Does she know that?” you snort, and his phone begins to ring, “Oh, it looks like ‘Baby Girl heart emoji’  is calling; you wanna take that?” he sends the call to voicemail, sighing. “Just admit it; I won't tell her that you fucked me in this exact car yesterday, don’t worry. Admit it, and I’ll fuck you again.” you lean into his ear and lick at his earlobe, which earns you a low groan.

“Fine, fuck, fine, she’s my girlfriend.” he’s losing his patience with you.

“Mmm, such a good boy. Where’d you meet her, huh? How long have you been together? Huh, baby?” you palm him through his slack rubbing gently.

He’s beginning to fall apart.  Although Yoongi’s never admitted it to anyone, just as much as he loves to be in control during sex, he loves it just a little more when the woman takes control. And right now, he especially loves that it’s you. “Fuck… I met her when I first moved from Daegu to Seoul. We’ve been friends since, but we’ve been together for 5 years… but I want you now..”

“Why does no one know about her, and why didn’t you tell me about her? You fucked me raw.” you’re unbuttoning his pants, slipping your hand into his waistband, and starting to jerk him in his pants.

“Someone does. Namjoon knows. He actually introduced us. I keep her out of the spotlight because she’s a non-celebrity. She would get too overwhelmed with everything, not media trained, ya know… Fuck… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom. Not even her, you’re the first person ever.” you hum into his ear, you can’t believe how easily he’s willing to give up this information. And he had the nerve to slut shame you. Madness.

“Wow, baby, you’re such a good boy. You won’t lie to me anymore, right? Is there anything else you want to tell me?” you feel him twitch in your hand. You know he's gonna cum soon, and that's precisely what you want.

“I have one more thing, but I can’t tell you right now… fuck.” he’s whiny, needy, and it's so cute on him. 

“Hmm, I guess that’ll do for now. You can cum.” and he does, and there is so much you’re salivating. You want to do nothing more than to clean him up with your mouth but fuck him. He can clean himself up. So you wipe your hand on his shirt.

“Clean yourself up, we’re almost there.” You throw him a napkin before reaching into your bag and handing him a new shirt. You fix the little bit of makeup that was ruined, and he moves to kiss you. “Nuh-uh, don’t fuck up my make-up.” You push him away while the car pulls up to the carpet. Luckily, he’s cleaned and ready to go. 

The night is hard to get through, to say the least. While you love fashion, being around people who are drunk or high or both isn’t really the best for someone in recovery. But you hold your resolve. You’re strong and will stay strong not only for you but for the man you get to go home to very soon.

Thankfully, the week goes by quickly. Of course, Yoongi tried to fuck you every chance he got, but you always found you’re way out of it. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with him; you just wanted it to be on your time, not his. Anyways, you’re finally back home. You decide on the plane ride home that you’re going to tell Jungkook what happened, you think that if you tell him now it’ll save a lot of hurt and pain for the both of you.

At this point, you’re waiting for him to pick you up from the airport. After about 10 minutes, you spot his black AMG. Relieved that you get to be in his presence again. He pulls up next to you, getting out of the car to help you. “Hi princess, I missed you. You look beautiful as always.” He kisses the top of your head before opening your door and helping you into the car.

“How was Paris, my love?” he asks, but you don’t reply right away. You’re trying to think of the right way to do this. To rip the bandaid off and tell the man you love you cheated.

“It was nice… Hey, Jungkook…. I need to tell you something.” you fidget with your fingers, ears burning.

“What's up? I’m all ears.” he chimes. He sounds so happy, and you feel so guilty for what you’re about to say.

“Jungkookicheatedonyou.” it comes out as one jumbled word, too afraid to even make it a sentence.

But he just chuckles a little, “I know.” he says, still in the same tone of voice. You’re startled. What does he mean he knows? 

“You know?!” your thoughts are racing; you can’t believe what you just heard.

“Yes, princess, I know, calm down. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how I know. Do you remember when I called you the first day you were there? You thought you hung up, but you didn’t.”

“You're not mad?” your heart feels like it's going to jump out of your chest.

“Oh, baby doll, I was pissed. Naturally. Hearing the love of my life getting railed by some douche that calls himself a rapper. But I told you when you told me no the first time, I’m going to marry you no matter what. So I’m going to give you a year to get it out of your system, and after that year, you’re all mine. Does that seem fair? I do have a couple of rules we can discuss when we get home.” he laces his hand with yours and kisses it.

All you could say was okay, he was right it was finite that you were going to marry each other. It was too much work to start all over with someone else. You two rarely ever fought before your condition, so you were comfortable with him. You knew you never wanted a relationship with Yoongi. He didn’t know that, though. I’m sure he probably thinks you’re going to leave Jungkook for him, and he’d be absolutely wrong. You thought when you first met Yoongi you’d leave JK for him, but now, no. Yoongi is a terribly selfish person, and you’d rather be treated with some type of respect.

After what seems like forever, you two finally get home. “Go inside, I’ll grab your bags. We’ll talk once I get inside.”

He follows after you shortly and gets you all settled. “Sit on the couch, we’re going to have a serious talk, princess.”

So you do, and you keep quiet. Your thoughts are racing; you’re terrified that he’s lying to you. You feel like this is entrapment. You feel like Jungkook is going to use this against you, but in that same vein you know Jungkook is too soft to really be mad at you.

“So, princess, I know you enjoyed your time in Paris, but I have some ground rules.” As soon as he went to sit, someone knocked on the door. Jungkook goes to answer it and when he comes back to the living room Yoongi is in tow. You go white, terrified of what Jungkook is going to do to Yoongi. “He arrived just on time! Please, sit.” 

“Jungkook what’re you doing?” You question, you’re trembling at this point.

“I want you to know that he knows that I know. That was a lot of knows, but yeah.” you’re dumbfounded, and just look at Yoongi because what the actual fuck is going on here. You feel like you’re going to pass out. This is a dream, a really fucked up dream. You’ll wake up soon, and everything will be alright, you think to yourself. Yoongi shifts in his seat, cheeks red and looking extremely uncomfortable.

“What do– There’s no fucking way. I’m dreaming. This is a joke–” You stand up and start pacing the room.

“It’s true…” Yoongi squeaks out, “He called me that day. Gave me an ultimatum… He told me I had a year to be with you, and then after that, I had to leave you alone, or he’d tell HYBE about us. I agreed..”

You’d never felt so confused and betrayed. I mean, sure, you cheated, but these two dickheads had conspired against you, “And what if I don’t want to do the whole year? What if I just wanted it to be a one-time thing? I feel like you’re pimping me out to my boss, this is weird..”

Jungkook just gives you a look, something you’d describe as hurt but understanding, “Okay then, tell Yoongi he needs to leave you alone. That you quit and that you want nothing to do with him.”

You look over at Yoongi, then back to Jungkook, and he implores you for an answer: “So are you gonna say it?”

“Well… what if I don’t want to leave him alone? What then?” Jungkook looks taken aback.

“If that’s what you really want, I will accept your decision, but I know that’s not what you want. You love me too much to leave me.” At this point, you’re sure Jungkook has lost his mind, finally fed up with your bullshit, but he’s right. You’re acting out because you’re bored with your life, like those housewives you see on TV. “Honey, I’m giving you a hall pass. Please accept it. I love you, and I want you to be happy. I feel I’m being more than generous considering.”

“Fine... What are your conditions?”

“1. You can see him 2 days out of the week. 2. You must use condoms and other contraceptives. I don’t like the thought of him cumming in you, and the thought of you pregnant by him makes my skin crawl. 3. If you’re with him and I call, answer unless you are… having sex…” He smiles at you, “I think that's fair, no? Also, I think Yoongi has something he needs to tell you.”

You look at Yoongi, and he looks like he’s going to throw up right then and there. “Okay? What is it?”

He’s quiet for a really long time, pulling at the skin on his cuticles. “Hello? You there? What do you need to tell me?”

He finally musters the courage to say, “I have a 4-year-old…”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

© @cumsuga 2016-2024. All rights reserved. — Unauthorized use or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating, and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. DO NOT USE MY CONTENT FOR ANY AI PURPOSES WHAT SO EVER

credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers