#even if they have to experience all the hurt and pain once more

[juricel]

a/n: a request but i may or may not have accidentally posted the draft and deleted it in panic, im so sorry to the original requester if you see this, please correct me if i'm wrong with something! I didn't properly memorize the phrasing of the ask.

original ask: "may i request yan!shadow milk cookie with an immortal!f/o who keeps dying to him but the more they die they grow resilient and fight back?"

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x immortal! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, mild gore, murder, body horror, heavy obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, body horror, emotional abuse, physical abuse, violence, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, potential ooc.

𖦁‎ shadow milk cookie adores every single part of you; your face, your personality, your appearance, your voice, your habits, everything—but oh, one thing that he loves about you most is when you are dead inside, aching, petrified, and falling apart.

𖦁‎ he doesn't mean to be cruel, really! it was meant to be a silly little experiment, a test of your immortality upon learning you were unable to die out of pure curiosity. However, when he crumbled you, his sweet dear, apart, oh he witnessed true beauty; you were a sight beyond manevolent, a bewitching visage, a pulchritudinously splendous piece of art. he, knelt in a puddle of hot, sweet blood, aching smile pitted against aching smile, caress your ichor-stained skin oh so gently, smudging the crimson over your now turning pale flesh—you were ravishing, organs lay splayed, tears prickling through the corner of eyes, red branching out across the sclera of your eyes, bloodied, bruised, and beneath /his/ mercy... ah, it was the illustrious form of beauty. he doesn't mean to get addicted, but oh, the sight of you... slope of stomach inwards, hip bones protruding through thin skin unnaturally, diaphragm and ribs sticking sickenly, and each bone present like a mountain range on the plateau of your pectorals; the way your scars turn beautiful, thrumming pink, and fade dark into a luscious shade of near-blue when cold; the vibrancy of your blood as it trickles down your tainted flesh... he just couldn't get enough of it! the more he thought of it, the more he got giddy.

𖦁‎ surely, you wouldn't mind him trying it out once more, don't you? it's not like you have a choice regardless! not when you're tied up and confined within his clutches. with a hand caressing your cheeks, he whispers sweet nothings, thumb stroking the contour of your cheekbones as he digs in his nails into the rake of your skin; cutting, mangling, butchering, dismembering, and lacerating your body as if it were a doll made to be withered—mutilating until what remains were cadaver. oh, you were just beyond adorable, weren't you? how can he not be a little mean to you when you were so endearing like this? the sight of you like this overwhelms him with desire, oh, how he craved to tear you apart, to bite and scratch your neck until leisons form and crimson seeps, to claw his way through your dermis until you scream in agony, blood staining his fingertips; a sight only he, himeslf could witness and he would make sure of that.

𖦁‎ he promises to be kind, to be gentle as he bashes your legs in, but he just couldn't help it! oh, but it's fine, isn't it? it's not like you were gonna crumble away from it all eternally! so he doesn't understand. why must you rebel against him? can't you see that he was doing this in an overwhelming exasperation of love for you? or was it because it was painful? oh, no it wasn't! you're just overreacting. it doesn't hurt. don't get him mistaken! he adores watching you struggle, takes fulfillment seeing you defiant even but when you manage to escape his grasp? oh, that is when his anger escalates.

𖦁 he's sorry, so so sorry! really, he's sorry, he won't kill you anymore, he promises! just don't leave from his sight ever again, in soft murmurs and thinly veiled bitter words he would whisper, tracing his bloodied fingers against the curve of your jaw, kissing away your vulgar defiance as he holds your body as stiff as a clay, unmoving and unresponsive, eyes unfocused.

a/n: not quite proud of this one, i hope it's fine, however! i do think this one is much more darker than my previous work but then again, it's a yandere work so it's probably alright.

[meangreennunseen]

Does it make pain any easier?

A writing drabble inspired by this:

Because I had to.

Warnings: Blood, injuries, insanity, death. Me trying to write Daemon Fulgrim.

___________________

His body fell to the ground with a loud crashing sound. He felt bones break, as well as copper taste of the blood fill inside of his mouth and taint the lips.

He caughed, red fluid beginning to drip down the mouth on the scorched earth beneath him. The fingers covered in metal dug into the hardened soil, as Argus tried to pull himself up.

Not much life force left in this body. Soon he will die and resurrection will kick in. Even if he was gifted with eternal cycle of life, sometimes it seemed every cell of his body screamt in agony for regenerating process to stop and never again occure. He would lie if he said his mind did not want same.

It hurt. Regeneration hurt in a ways he cannot explain. Vulkan always told him that being born Perpetual is both gift and a curse and the pain rebirth carries is only what Perpetual will ever experience and understand.

Argus' musings to himself were cut short by the sound of dragging blades. Four of them. In each hand of the one, whom he once knew as a second Father.

As he approached, his slithering body movements, drowned everything. Except pain, not physical, which ravaged Argus' dying form, the one inside, the one which could not heal.

- Do it already! - Perpetual screamt, trying to pull his bloodied body off the ground. No avail. His legs were shattered and even if he knew he will walk again eventually, pain he felt now was blinding.

He heard blade being risen, the sound of it's sharp edge cutting the air. One strike and this attempt will end.

- Does it make pain any easier to bear? - All he heard was the voice. Same voice, which usually taunted him with sadistic glee, laughed maniacally and berated any of attempts at attacking him. Still tone felt like more humane of his sides trying to fight a Daemon Prince.

It had to be delusion. Pain inducted hallucination...

Argus gathered all the strenght in his arms and if not necrodium, he probably would have not managed to pull his upper body up. His entire arms were covered in blood, meaning he bled from other injuries too than his mouth or shattered leg bones and torn flesh. Damnit, he had Astartes genes and bone structure and still that was not enough to fight. His fingers dug into hardened soil even harder, splattered with his own fresh blood.

Meanwhile Daemon Prince slithered around him, his massive tail creating a ring around Argus grievely wounded form. No escape.

What he expected was blade at his neck. Strangely even how many times Fulgrim had slain Argus already, he never slit his throat or beheaded him. Like he did before. Like he did with his Father.

Instead what touched his neck were claws. Long, solidly grown into his large emaciated fingers, ringing from golden, now blood mudded chains he wore on his hand.

Again instead of being able so easily slice Argus' throat, he lifted his face up by chin.

- Does it make pain any easier to bear? - He asked same question again.

Argus refused to look at the large Daemon before him, he averted his gaze away, only to notice other three arms get closer to him. Two lifted him by the legs, but not in a usual, angry way, but much gentlier, while third held the back. He was gentle. Weirdly gentle.

Argus' survival instincts kicked in and he slammed the hands off, managing to wiggle of the grasp and throw himself back into the circle formed by scaled snake tail. He screamed of the pain the fall induced into his already shattered bones. He was Perpetual, being able to regenerate and also was Astartes, someone created with ability to regenerate and yet he squirmed from the pain. Like a child who got stupidly hurt.

- Don't touch me! - was all Argus hissed at Daemon above him.

He dared to look up this time. Hatered and frustration won over pain.

Fulgrim watched him from above. One set of lower hands crossed behind the back, the upper duo held out all bloodied with what Argus assumed his own blood in some weird ritualistic manner. The face of Daemon Prince had no expression. He just watched human on the ground, his snake pupils weirdly humanly wide. No sickening grin, no sliced tongue hissing at him. Nothing.

And then his eyebrows arched sadly.

- So it doesn't. I knew it won't. - was all he spoke.

Argus noticed Fulgrim held no weapon. If those were thrown off or were securily laid down behind his giant serpentine tail Argus did not know. At any rate Daemon Prince of Slaanesh needed no weapon to crush his opponent's already seriously wounded body. And yet he made no attempt.

- Enough! - Argus screamt, looking up at Fulgrim with all the hatered in his soul. Never he felt so much blinding hate than now, when person he hated the most was now so close. Once again he used arms to pull his upper body up, but sharp pain shot across his back and he fell down screaming in agony. The fall shatered what was left of his spine. He felt his arms numb up just as legs as his body became nearly fully paralysed.

Most of Argus' deaths were quick and painless. Rare occurence was for him to have suffer through such an agony before dying, but today seemed to be one of those unfortunate times.

Before he hit the ground with his face, massive clawed hand once again grabbed him and he fell on it. This one had no chains on it and skin felt eerly similiar to what he remembered. He wanted to resist, but at this point it was clear Argus' body was at it's limit.

Once again all he felt apart blinding pain was being scooped up in arms. He only saw through his bloodshot vision them engulfing him like a swarm, all four of them.

- Let... Go... - his breath was weakening with every raising of chest.

But Daemon did not react. Argus blurrying eyesight noticed massive wings covering him and their host in some sort of sinister cocoon as well as serpentine tail, who tightened in the circle only for Daemon to gently nest his upper body in it.

Argus closed his eyes. His breaths shallowed as pain engulfed entire body, even with muscle paralysis. He could not move, he could barely breathe. He was moments away from end of his current life.

However before the death, he felt something else. It came to him like a haze of dream. Beating of two hearts. As shallow as his, but with more echo. He recognised the melodic beat: same as it always was, stuck in his memory. Same which lulled him to sleep on so many occasations.

He felt tears roll down his blood covered face. Fond memories he was too weak to fight flooded back in. All Argus managed to do is to press his hand around massive thumb finger of someone whom he used to love so much. He felt once again as a small child, who could not walk, could not talk, but expressed his love with a touch. As strong as he possibly could with all he had left in him.

Before he took one last breath and went quiet.

-------------------------

Daemon Prince positioned his body to make it as comfortable for his foe as he could. Not foe, he corrected himself, someone he still loved as much as he did all those millenias ago.

He was aware Enlightment and giving himself to Gods of Chaos will not entirely change him. No, they freed him if anything. He was free of being used as a tool, free to enjoy existance, bathe in all the gifts of Slaanesh, no longer shackled by his own weak and imperfect flesh form. Uncover his true potential given to him by his nature, not Emperor's construct and ambition.

And yet he still felt. Felt pain and felt sorrow. Felt love as well as attachement. It drove him insane because how strongly he now felt, and as a sick gift the inner torture brought pleasure he could not stop lavishing in.

But now... He felt no pleasure. What he felt was disturbance of mind as ever, but clearance of heart. He could not think, he did not know why he didn't just deal with his foe like he usually did. It brought great pain to him, but the excess of pain also brought immense pleasure.

But not today.

Gently he scooped bloodied body of his foe, his boy, using all four of his arms. His arms formed a craddle and he used his massive wings to create intimate space between the two of them and the planes of Slaanesh's realm and other daemons who came to gawk at them.

- Let... Go... - limp figure in his arms spoke through troubled breaths. Fulgrim could just watch his nearly lifeless body.

Argus barely moved for quite some time after that last blow, except then he screamt of pain while trying to pull himself up few times. Now his boy just laid in Fulgrim's embrace, covered in blood from many deadly wounds across his body. It was clear he had not much life left in him and yet he was a Perpetual, gifted with innability to die.

And even if it wasn't first time, it hurt Fulgrim as ever. With every kill he executed against Argus, he saw what he had done to Ferrus. The vivid vision making him hurt in every cell of his body. His actions killing the one he loved the most repeating in a cursed torturous cycle.

But Argus returns. He always returns and it pains him in the ways no one knows, because Fulgrim is forced to kill his son as he killed his Father, his own beloved brother. In blind rage, only snapping out of it once it is too late to save them. He is the only one left to suffer. To vail in agony of his own making. Over and over again.

Now he snapped out of it earlier. Perhaps it was because Argus did not die from the first blow or perhaps because Fulgrim today felt exceptionally melancholic. And yet he still is unable to preserve this life of his son. He is dying. At least what Fulgrim can offer to make both of them hurt less is an embrace.

Pain does not make it easier. To neither of them.

While Argus did not answer the question, Fulgrim knew better. His son desperately hunts him down not because of desire of revenge, but because of wanting to hurt his own soul and flesh, to make inner pain reflect on pain of flesh. Because he believes it makes it easier.

Fulgrim pulled his son's limp body closer to his own chest. His hearts started beating louder than before, he felt that, he felt weirdly alive in this moment, and yet sorrow was strong and slowly swallowing him in another dark episode.

They are alike. Both cursed in so many ways, both never able to die, both forced to live in a purgatory of never ending pain they cannot get rid of. Both their existences are circle or pain and guilt and torture...

Suddenly Fulgrim felt Argus' grip around thumb of one of his hands increase. Even if body did not move except rare shallow breaths, the grip on his finger was strong. As strong as only Argus could do. Fulgrim felt like again he held his small human boy in his way too big arms like all those millenias ago.

Daemon let his black, elegantly curved horn adorned head down, his white long hair dripping over the shoulders to cover not only his face but body of his son too. He felt tears flood his eyes, as the painful memories came back to haunt him.

In one moment it all was over. Argus' breathing stopped, and grip on the thumb finger loosened, hand of his son falling limp. In same moment felt his own hearts stop beating too.

Daemon Prince Fulgrim, still head down, opened his wings and spread them wide, his giant serpentine tail slowly slithering less tight, as he held upon dead body in his arms for little longer. He knew what happened next was inevitable. He cannot preserve this moment for too long even if he so would want to.

Argus' body started to brittle into dust and like some sudden gust of wind cought it, all of it swooped off Fulgrim's embrace leaving this plane of existance. It will reunite with the soul of his Perpetual son somewhere in the galaxy. And his boy will be reborn. Like a true Phoenix of Iron he was.

As last of dust left his arms, Fulgrim spread all four of them, still bloodied from his own son, his head still low, he chuckled.

The chuckles grew into laughter, full on maniacal laughter, as Prince of Excess threw his head backwards, his hair whiplashing back, facing the void above. His pupils narrowed into slits as his laughter shook the realm itself, the tail slashing wildly around him in the centre.

The pain. The pain he felt. It was unexplainable, unimaginable to everyone else. It tore his hearts out and crushed them. It contorted his face, it broke his every bone and tore his every muscle in a way no one else could see. Yet it brought pleasure so immence, Fulgrim felt enthralled by it, fully controlled by it. It pleased him, it pleased Slaanesh.

What he felt no one could understand, but he relished in it. He felt awoken by it.

And he knew. Only another person to feel the same way will come back in search of this same pain. To relish in it. To feel this pain to make him again feel alive...

[pukefactory]

AM I LATE? OKAY OKAY COUGH UHHH IMMA TRY AND MAKE THIS QUICK.

Either Cosmo x Young (around 9?) sibling reader...Some Plot: not a lot of people like us since we act differently from their favorite and it continues to repeat into bulling for weeks and weeks until one day we come up crying to them and then we start to explain that we were getting bullied for just being different and go explaining what they did. Then Cosmo procedded to confront the person (not sure what you want but something like that and then Cosmo ends up reporting them to the handlers.

Im sorry if it's not clear but I hope this wasn't too late! It really just angst to fluff

Nope, you’re not late at all! This is a unique and intriguing prompt. It did challenge me a bit, but I hope it meets your expectations!

── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ AND ONCE MORE ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ──

♫ Summary: Cosmo helps his bullied little sibling

♫ Character(s): Cosmo (Dandy’s World)

♫ Reader Pronouns: Non Specified

♫ Genre: Short Story, Angst, Comfort

♫ Word Count: 567

♫ Warning(s): Mentions of Bullying, Physical Abuse

You remember every name you’ve been called but how many times? You’ve lost count. It’s been more than enough. And every time you ask them why they’re so cruel, they just laugh in your face, calling you a freak, a no-show, a good-for-nothing weirdo—just because you’re different from the other toons. You don’t fit in.

According to them, there’s nothing special about you. That’s their excuse for treating you so horribly. And for a while, you believe them. Why wouldn’t you? If they keep pushing, shoving, and yelling, they must be right… right?

You endure their cruelty for weeks, letting them hurl insults and knock you around because you think you deserve it. But today, they take it too far. One of them shoves you to the ground, spitting out the same tired words you’ve heard a hundred times before. Then comes the first kick. Then another. And another. They don’t stop until they’ve had their fill and walk away, leaving you curled up in a ball, trembling and sobbing, trying to shield yourself from the pain.

The moment they’re gone, you scramble to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your back, and run. Run to the one place you know is safe. Run to the one person who can help you.

Cosmo is in the kitchen, casually baking cupcakes—something he and Spout have done countless times. Lately, he’s always in the kitchen, experimenting with new recipes, even when his best friend isn’t around to help. He slides a tray into the preheated oven, wipes the sweat from his forehead, and then hears the front door creak open, followed by soft sniffles.

The second he sees you—his little sibling, tear-streaked and shaking—he rushes over, not caring about the batter-covered mess on his hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong, buddy?” His voice is gentle but filled with concern.

You sniffle, trying to wipe away your tears, but they keep falling no matter how hard you try. “They keep hurting me…”

“Who keeps hurting you?”

“A group of bullies.” You hiccup, voice breaking. “They keep hurting me because I’m a freak!”

Without hesitation, Cosmo pulls you into a warm hug, shushing you softly. “You’re not a freak. You never were, and you never will be.”

He rubs your back in slow, soothing circles, his embrace melting away some of the fear.

“How about we bake some cupcakes together? And after that…” He pulls back slightly, giving you a knowing look. “Would you mind showing me who those meanies are?”

You nod without hesitation. You trust him. You feel safe with him.

After sharing a fresh batch of cupcakes, you lead Cosmo to the ones who have been tormenting you for weeks. He sends you back to the kitchen with a simple request—to clean up a little while he handles things.

An hour passes before he finally returns, looking somewhere between satisfied and angry. As he steps inside, his eyes flick to the kitchen, clearly impressed by how spotless it is.

“What took you so long?” you ask.

“Oh, I was just dealing with those mean people.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing bad! I told the toon handlers everything, so they definitely won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You gasp, then throw your arms around him. “Thank you, Cosmo.”

“Of course. Anything for you, bud.” He hugs you back, a small smile on his face, relieved that you’re finally safe.

Everything will be okay now.

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

return of the king messes me up every time i watch it. like. you can’t go home, home will never be the same because you have changed. you will never return from this journey. physically you may go back, but mentally a part of you is left behind. something is missing. you become changed by the grief and it never really leaves you. there was something i told my mom a while back. i told her i hadn’t felt truly happy or excited for anything in a long time. she told me that was part of being an adult. even if she didn’t mean it this way, i think i understand.

[digitaldiseas3]

.

[phagodyke]

didnt think it was actually physically possible to experience worse period cramps than I was already getting every month but being back on the pill again has proven me wrong 🫠🫠🫠🫠

[jadedbirch]

Gather around, my young friends and fellow dinosaurs, let me tell you about some BULLSHIT no one ever tells you about. I'm talking about menopause and perimenopause. Now, menopause has a very stringent medical definition. You have to not have had a period for exactly 12 months and a day to be considered in menopause. All the bullshit before that day once you start going through The Change is considered perimenopause. Here's some bullshit you might experience that people actually talk about when you're in perimenopause:

- shorter time between periods

- irregular periods

- hot flashes and/or cold flashes

- fucked up sleep

- OMG NIGHT SWEATS

- Vagina as dry as the Sahara desert

- lighter periods and/or endless bleeding like it's The Flood but it's in your pants

- lack of interest in Adult Fun Times

This time of joy can last anywhere from a couple of years to a god damn decade and there's no medical way right now to predict it.

Here's some of the REAL bullshit they don't tell you about but your dinosaur aunt is here to let you know:

- You can start perimenopause in your 30s, don't listen to idiot doctors who tell you you're "too young" because they don't know your body like you do.

- Perimenopause will make you HELLA DUMB. Seriously, I'm talking Bigly broken brain. Brain fog? Check. Short term memory? Wave goodbye to it. Ability to make words form out of thoughts? Yeah, good luck to you.

- Perimenopause can cause horrible fatigue because in addition to losing estrogen, you're also losing testosterone. Oh and that also leads to muscle wasting, cool cool.

- Things might suddenly hurt more because estrogen is known to be neuroprotective.

- If you're super lucky like I am, and like to collect rare illnesses, you might even get Burning Mouth Syndrome 💀

- And meanwhile, while you're going through this bullshit, you'll be getting gaslit by doctors who are operating based on 30 year old debunked data about how HRT causes breast cancer (not really) and that they shouldn't put you on it until you're in actual menopause. (Data shows starting HRT early can potentially prevent Alzheimer's in later years.)

- There are entire online clinics right now (I use Midi Health) focused on providing care for peri and menopausal patients and they will happily prescribe you HRT even if your regular PCP or OBGYN do not (if you meet the criteria). I've been pretty impressed with how holistically they view the patient. For full disclosure, I learned about them from my integrative health doctor and they do not accept Medicare (yet).

I'm 46 years old right now and I've been symptomatic for perimenopause for the last 8 years, although it's gotten the most dramatic in the past 2 years or so, which I hope means I'm almost done, holy hell. Yeah I was on the early side, but if it can happen to me, it can happen to you, so it's never too early to think about these things. And I hope to at least spare some of you the mind-fuckery I've been through because no one told me about most of this stuff, including my own mother who just DOESN'T REMEMBER what happened to her and now I completely understand why. And because I also have a connective tissue disease, I used to just dismiss my pain and fatigue as being caused by that illness rather than the loss of hormones.

Anyways, this is why we need Elders in our lives, so they can do Grandma Story Hour like I just did and validate you when the entire medical field tries to gaslight you. I hope you've found some or all of this educational/useful. Please share with your friends because we really do NOT talk about this stuff enough. (Ewwww Moon Blood!)

Stay well, and don't let the bastards grind you down!

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I love your work, could you please write a viktor x reader who takes care of him. like makes sure he eats, they make baked goods for him or make him go to bed in time. I think it would be cute

Heyo! Sure I can, even if it’s been a while since I wrote for Viktor (or anything) lmao

Caretaker!Reader

Viktor takes well enough care of himself, to his own standards

So we all know he can use a little more help and a little helping hand

I think Viktor is pretty independent so it takes a lot out of him to even be able to do this kind of intimate thing with you

If he does, it takes a lot of vulnerability as you would see him at his lowest

There have been times where he probably refused and would try and get out of any situation where you found out he needed help and to be taken care of

He doesn’t want to bother you or anything when he deems it able to be done by himself

It takes a while for him to be comfortable enough with you and your relationship to let himself be vulnerable in that way

As he has never done this kind of thing with anyone else before

But once it happens, trust me, you’re golden

I think he does like sweets and baked goods, so to have you bring him any on a whim and not because you have to, but because you care warms his heart absolutely

He often forgets to take care of himself and his basic needs, like eating and stuff like that for his experiments and research

So he relies on you for that a little bit once he knows you will always be there for him

He loves when you cook or bake for him and knowing it’s so he knows he’s taken care of makes each bite better than the last

At first when you attempted to get him on some sort of decent sleep schedule, he resisted

He went to bed whenever, or whenever his research was done or he passed out and often it was in the lab or at his desk or in the middle of his studying at the table

SOO you would often have to bring him to bed yourself

Once you wore him down enough, he acted like you won

You thought you did until you found out he was just waiting till you fell asleep and slipped out off bed, and slipped back in just before you woke up and pretended to wake up beside you

You had to scold him probably, or it was some sort of argument

He realized you just wanted him to be healthy, and for him to be well rested

Reluctantly, he began going to sleep with you and waking up beside you in the mornings

He found he actually did like this habit because sleeping beside you was surprisingly comforting

He loved hearing your breathing pattern as you fell asleep, and it helped him fall asleep to hear and feel your heart beating as you both snuggled to sleep

And he loved watching you wake up slowly in the mornings

It was all worth it

One thing he was very stubborn about you not doing was taking care of his leg I think

Probably because he feels as his sort of disability is a bother enough, he doesn’t want you to be burdened with it

He probably thinks that if you see that part of him, you’ll think he’s not worth it and leave

And that’s not the case

He only finds out on a particularly harsh day when it hurt so bad, and it was so sore all he could do was want to fall asleep and alleviate the pain by any means

You maybe kissed his leg, maybe rubbed out the pain, maybe helped him in any way

But as you did it, he loved the feeling and could only watch you do so and the warm feeling in his chest never left

So, on the hard days, he would drop subtle hints that he wanted to be taken care of

Like subtly saying “oh, it just hurts, I have no clue how to fix it…” and wait for you to offer to rub it

I feel he likes being babied a little bit, but not to much

He doesn’t like being treated as glass or like he is incompetent

But he does love being taken care of by you

Be it food, tending to him or showering or making sure he is fed and clean

He loves showering with you

He loves having you wash his hair and the feelings of your hand in it or feeling you lather the soap on him while he just gets to relax and close his eyes and know your there

And that he’s able to soak in all the love

Obviously he returns it all in his own way but

It’s just all the love you pour in

[lymtw]

Aftercare

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[zylev-blog]

Batman opened the door, catching the falling body that had come out of the tube. Glowing green Lazarus water flowed around his feet, but he didn’t care. He gently laid the boy onto the ground, listening for breathing sounds. But he wasn’t even sure if his species could breathe. The boy was no older than Tim, with stark-white hair, and pale green skin. The boy wasn’t human, that was for sure, but as to what species he was, Batman had no clue. The teenager hadn’t even opened his eyes since being removed from the tube.

The Lazarus water didn’t smell quite like the pits he was used to. The water smelled cleaner, stronger. Less like battery acid and more like a strong-scented cleaner that he couldn’t give a name to.

He grasped the boy by the shoulders as he picked him up bridal style. He needed to take the boy to the cave, and figure out if he was even alive. A regular hospital wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.

“Batman, we’ve apprehended the last of the men in white suits.” Red Robin said over the comms.

“Good,” His voice was gruff, “Make sure they don’t escape before police arrive.”

Tim didn’t bother saying anything else to him. Neither of them were in the mood for jokes. Not after what they had seen tonight. They had stumbled across a lab in Gotham in an abandoned warehouse. They had thought that it was a Joker hideout when they first arrived, but they had quickly found out that wasn’t the case. After they had began to investigate, they had found corpses of many people that had been thrown into a pit. The bodies had evidence of vivisection, torture, and experimentation. The bodies had ranged from children to adults, but the results were all the same. They were all dead.

They had found tubes like the ones used at Cadmus. They held a few humanoid-species, but most of them looked like they were in varying stages of death. The only tube that looked like it held someone living had been the teenage boy he now held in his arms.

The worst thing about all of this were that they had no idea what this place was, what they were doing, or why they were in Gotham. They had stumbled in by mistake.

He had a lot of work to do.

“No survivors.” Nightwing’s voice sounded. Not even Dick was in a good mood anymore, and he had been joking around for the last few hours.

Batman looked down at the boy in his arms. The boy hadn’t stirred once, hadn’t moved, and hadn’t breathed. He might be carrying a corpse for all he knew.

“And the files?” He prompted.

“Downloading.” Red Robin’s voice was grim. “You’re not going to like it.”

He didn’t like anything about this situation already. How could it get any worse?

“From what I can tell from skimming through the files,” Red Robin continued, “They were experimenting with people’s souls. They killed all of these people because they wanted to catch their ghost.”

“Hrrn.” He looked away from the teenager in his arms. Maybe he didn’t have a corpse in his arms—but a ghost. A ghost of a teenager he failed to save.

What if it had been Tim lying in his arms? Dick? Jason? Damian? Did this teenager have parents before he died, or were his parents in the pit?

The boy stirred, whipping Bruce’s attention back to him. The boy moaned in pain, starting to writhe in his arms.

“You’re safe now.” He said to the boy. “You’re saved.”

“Nnnngh.” The boy opened Lazarus green eyes to look at him. The eyes were hazy, as if exhaustion plagued them. “Batman?”

“They won’t hurt you ever again.” He promised.

“Where is my sister?” The boy asked. “They took her.”

Dick’s words played on repeat in his mind. No survivors. But the boy didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

“We’re still searching the base. She’ll be here somewhere.” He lied.

The boy closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. But even with Bruce watching him, the boy did not breathe. Maybe he didn’t need to anymore. Tears leaked down the boy’s cheeks, as if he knew Bruce’s lie.

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or are there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[innerfare]

You Just Do It Better 

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:  

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 

Zoro: 

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 

Sanji: 

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 

Ace: 

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 

Sabo: 

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 

Law: 

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 

Kid: 

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[jeneveuxrein]

mutual (AESPA Karina)

word count: 12.5K

(finished right before their comeback, but i'm a mess this month. anyhow, enjoy pls)

-- -- -- 

You couldn’t believe she’s gone. 

People talk about grief coming and going like the ocean on the shore, but to experience it firsthand like this, so suddenly with no warning whatsoever, feels like the tide pulling you in.

You didn’t want to be here. If you had the choice, you’d be on a plane to anywhere else, running away from reality instead of facing it. 

Your best friend, Kim Minjeong, died in a tragic hit-and-run accident. It hurts to say out loud. Let alone think. The worst part of it all, was that she was on the way to see you after living abroad for the past year. Guilt weighed on your shoulders, to the point where you were so close to falling off the rails, but you didn’t. 

You stare blankly at the portrait her family chose. It’s a photo you took one Christmas at the annual family party. Your parents, specifically your mothers, were close. The best of friends since university. They hoped you two would fall in love, and it was halfway a possibility—on your end. 

You couldn’t explain it as it was happening, realizing that the feelings brewing for Minjeong wasn’t how you felt for the other girl friends in your life. It was confusing, jarring, that by the time you understood what it was, she already had a boyfriend. 

It didn’t stop you from dating other women, but there was always that sliver of hope Minjeong would see you more than a childhood friend, that held you back from being committed. They noticed, which didn’t faze you since you weren’t looking for anything serious to begin with. 

You reserved those feelings for Minjeong, but now they’re pointless, unresolved, lingering, painful. 

A hand gently rests itself on your shoulder, snapping you out of your revere. You look up, and it’s Jimin. She gives you a soft smile, rubbing the spot enough to be soothing, comforting even. 

“We don’t have to be here. Our eommas said we could leave,” Karina says with the same smile still on her face. You don’t think you’ve smiled since you got the call, so it was confusing to see her smiling. 

(If you were in the right state of mind, you’d see through Karina, knowing she’s doing her best to hide how she feels.) 

You nod, and Karina extends her hand out. You let her pull you up, interlacing your fingers together. She drags you through the room, bidding farewell to the guests. They give their condolences, which irks you for some reason. These people didn’t know Minjeong the way you do, and you try letting go of Karina’s hand, but she keeps a firm grip. 

Once the cold air hits your face and the door slams shut, the mask cracks. She breaks down, falling into you as her knees give out. It’s almost reflexive how you encircle your arms around her, pulling her into you as you fight the tears threatening to spill. 

Karina was strong in front of people, but when it was around you, she was vulnerable, sensitive to her feelings and thoughts. She didn’t trust many, but she trusted you.  

“Jimin,” You whisper, voice cracking at the use of her real name instead of her baptismal name. “I’m here. What do you need?” 

Karina buries her face into your chest, sobbing as the emotions overwhelm her. You hold on tight, body immovable as you support her weight. 

(The thing is, Karina is your best friend too. You all were. An unexpected trio of childhood friends that had been through everything together.) 

After a few minutes, Karina takes a deep breath. She mumbles something you can’t quite make, and you softly ask her to repeat it. 

“Let’s get drunk.”

-- -- 

You slammed the car door shut, barely noticing Karina’s body flinch. She gave you a pointed look, rolling her eyes as she connected her phone to the bluetooth. 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing,” You muttered, starting the car the same time she chose a song. 

“Something happened and I’d bet you tteokbokki it has to do with Minjeong,” Karina teased, chuckling when she saw you pout. “Bingo, you owe me.” 

“I just don’t get what she sees in him, he’s a fucking ass.” The scene of Minjeong laughing at  what’s-his-face’s probably not funny joke left a sour taste in your mouth. “He’s not even funny.” 

“And you are?” Karina remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“You laugh at my jokes.”

“Because you are one.”

“Okay, ouch.” You reached for the volume, turning the knob to drown out her giggles. 

Once you pulled out of the parking lot, hitting the main road, Karina asked to get dinner together. You didn’t want to, but relented when she said it was her treat. To, you know, placate witnessing how Minjeong acted around her boyfriend. It was becoming a more regular thing these past few weeks, which may be partly your fault since you actively searched for her during breaks and in the hallway. 

You arrived at the small mom-and-pop shop around the corner from your house. By pure reflex, you walked around the car to open the door and Karina let you. 

It was a weird dynamic, even though it had always been platonic. At least, to you two. Minjeong would often call herself the third wheel when you were together, something that irritated Karina while you brushed the comment off. 

Your feelings stood with Minjeong and Karina was highly aware of it. You vented about them to her constantly. Minjeong’s new relationship had increased the pining tenfold. 

“You don’t have to keep opening the doors for me. People might get the wrong impression,” Karina said as she stepped out. 

“What? Who cares what people think. I’ve been doing this forever, to you and Minjeong.” You closed the door, gentler than when you left school. 

“People think we’re dating,” Karina grumbled after you covered her body with your jacket. “Stop doing that too!” 

You pinched her shoulder. “No,” Simply stating a fact. “If people think that, whatever. You know who I like anyways.” 

You continued walking, mainly to open the door for her again, but if you had kept her pace, you would’ve heard Karina’s defeated yeah unfortunately I do.

-- --  

“Why the fuck did you buy so much?” You groan, dropping the heavy bags on the coffee table. There’s a loud clunk and Karina slaps your leg as you collapse on the couch. 

“Can you not do that? I don’t want to clean up the glass if it breaks.” Karina glares, taking the bottles out along with the snacks. 

You mumble a half-assed apology, helping her set things up. You didn’t do much except for folding the plastic bags. Karina hands you a soju bottle that you automatically unscrew for her, exchanging it for another for yourself. 

You clink bottles before you take a healthy swig of the peach flavored soju Karina made sure to get. It’s your favorite, even though she always teases you for having the taste palette of a child. It goes down smoothly as it settles bitterly in your stomach. 

You sink into the couch even deeper, crossing your arms behind your head as you stare at the ceiling. Karina takes the bottles and places them on the table before she lets out a sigh. Your eyes follow her movements, arranging the chips and candies in an orderly fashion. It’s a habit of hers whenever she’s stressed, anything to keep her distracted so she doesn’t have to think. 

“Karina,” Your hand reaches out after she turns the bottles around again, making sure they face the same direction. “Come here,” You pull her into you, sliding your arm around her waist. Her body’s tense. It’s practically radiating off her, that you do what you know best—wrapping your other arm around until she melts into you. 

It takes a moment longer than usual. Not like you timed yourself in situations like this. You have always been perceptive of Karina’s feelings and moods, reading her like an open book while others found her difficult to talk to. 

(Well, for a shallow reason. Karina’s beautiful, gorgeous, a bombshell. Growing up, boys and girls thought she was intimidating based on that reason alone. She wasn’t, not in the slightest. You may have been biased since you’ve known her forever, but you didn’t think she was. A bit sarcastic with the right amount of kindness. Her being visually appealing was just a bonus.)

Karina doesn’t like physical affection, but she never had that issue with you. So it’s nothing out of the ordinary when she slots her head in the crook of your neck, body relaxing into the embrace as she throws her arm over your stomach. 

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Karina says quietly.

Your heart breaks all over again. You had been so wrapped up in your head that you neglected to be the support Karina needs. You may have lost the what if in your life, but she lost her best friend too. 

“I know,” You murmur, fingers tracing up and down her back. “It’s fucked.” 

“Who am I supposed to call when you’re being difficult?” It’s a joke, but it doesn’t sound like one as her voice cracks at the end. 

“Me. Just tell me I’m annoying.” You reassure her, pulling her in closer as you rest your cheek on the top of her head. 

“You’re annoying right now,” Karina huffs and you actually crack a smile. “I don’t know what to do next.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s strange, melancholic and whatever other word like that fits.” 

“What is?”  

“From now on, Minjeong’s only a memory.” 

-- -- 

You held your head low, avoiding the remaining students in the hallway as you walked out of the principal’s office. Your cheek hurt, but it was more embarrassing to make eye contact with someone for them to ask what happened if they didn’t know at this point. 

Once you made it outside, you beelined straight for the sidewalk. Your car was in the shop so you had no choice but to take public transportation today—of all days. It wasn’t an easy escape since you were shoved, knocking you off balance that you almost squared up again, but immediately dropped your fists when you realized who it was. 

“Karina, what’re you—” She shoved you again. You noticed Minjeong a meter away, eating ice cream. You pleaded for help, but her view was blocked with the wrath of Yu Jimin. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shrugged, acting as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Let me see your face.” Her hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes widened when she saw the bruise on your face. 

One would think there would be some sympathy involved, yet here you were, getting physically assaulted by your best friend. You were glad there weren’t that many people loitering, but there were still a handful that could spark a rumor. 

“Jimin, enough,” Minjeong sighed, standing from the ledge. “Let’s just talk to him first okay? Stop hurting him.”

“No,” Karina said sharply, shaking her head as she prepared for another swing. “If he wants to get into a fight so badly, then we’re fighting right here.”

“Domestic disturbance,” Minjeong mumbled as she stepped in between you, effectively halting Karina from landing another hit. 

“Move.” It came out as a warning, but it didn’t scare Minjeong in the slightest. 

“Why did you get into a fight?” Minjeong turned her head slightly. Karina wouldn’t hit her. 

“What’re you even talking about?” Playing dumb wouldn’t get you anywhere, but it was better than explaining why there was a nasty bruise on your face. 

Minjeong sighed again, turning around completely to face you. “Ryujin told Yeji that she saw you basically beat up two seniors. The reason why, however, was unknown.” 

Look, you didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You were generally not a violent person, but you had a bit of a temper. Your mother put you in a bunch of activities growing up, like taekwondo and basketball, to keep you busy and ‘out of trouble’ as she liked to say. She didn’t want you to fall with the wrong crowd, but it wasn’t like that was possible with Minjeong and Jimin by your side. They kept you in check more than anyone else in your life.

You would argue that the only way to really get under your skin was if it involved said women, which was why you saw red when you overheard these two fucks talking about Karina so crassly as you were getting your things for practice. It was disgusting, and it pissed you off. The things they said weren’t appropriate, especially so out in the open. 

Naturally, you had to say something. They didn’t appreciate when you told them to shut up, going further to say that since they had seen you around Karina so much that you had to be fucking her and a lot of other things that you didn’t want to repeat–ever. 

Obviously not the fucking case, but you digressed. 

“We just got into it,” You shrugged, stepping away from Minjeong as she tilted her head, curious at your response. “Boys just being boys.” 

“You have a fucking bruise on your face!” Karina exclaimed, throwing her hands up in desperation. “Don’t use that fucking excuse.” 

“Oppa,” Minjeong crossed her arms, waiting for you to give the real reason. 

“They said some things and I put them in their place, that’s all.” 

“What could they have possibly said that they both needed to go to the hospital?!” Karina questioned. You could tell she was getting tired of your vagueness. “Ryujin ran to get Mingyu to pull you off, but by the time they made it back, none of you were there.” 

“Look, I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” You bit back with more attitude than you intended, but your face hurt and all you wanted to do was sulk and brood. 

“Too fucking bad,” Karina slid herself in between you and Minjeong. “We’re not going home until you fucking tell us why.” Minjeong carefully pulled her back, but Karina being as stubborn as ever wouldn’t budge. 

“You really want to fucking know?” Your emotions were getting the best of you. You didn’t want to do this now, maybe tomorrow or the day after, but you just needed to think about your actions. Though, if you were being honest, you’d do it again. 

“We’re still here, aren’t we?” Karina replied sarcastically, ticking you off more. 

“Fine, if you want to be a fucking child about it,” You let out a breath, rolling your eyes as you recount with as much detail as possible about what they said. How they wondered what kind of underwear she wore. How they just knew that she was a ‘freak’ so to speak in bed. How it wouldn’t be hard to ‘tap’ that ass, or whatever. Or how she’d easily give it up since the rumors of her sleeping with every guy were ‘apparently’ true. 

(As far as you knew, Karina had one boyfriend her entire life and she hardly went out on dates. If she did, it was always with a group of people.) 

“So there, that’s what they fucking said. Obviously I couldn’t just stand there and let them talk about you like that. I’m going home.” You ignored the way Karina’s expression softened and the way Minjeong’s mouth opened, slightly in shock. You didn’t want to tell either of them that you got into a fight because of Karina, but obviously said woman just had to get in your business. 

(Granted, okay, it involved her. But that was beside the point.) 

“Wait!” Karina called after you as soon as you walked through the school gates. 

You didn’t turn back. You kept on pushing. You were ashamed enough for getting suspended for the rest of the week, and your parents were going to have a field day. 

You just wanted to sleep at this point. 

You’d deal with Karina and Minjeong later. 

-- 

Later came as you were falling asleep. 

There was a knock on your door that startled you. You turned over, hoping that whoever was on the other side would leave. Your mother already went off on you for acting so recklessly, but by some cosmic force, your father actually supported your decision. He didn’t necessarily agree with violence and thought you would have handled it better, but he didn’t get on you as much as his better half. 

Instead of another knock, you heard the doorknob click. You forgot to lock it since you collapsed on the bed, exhaustion creeping in from the day. The door quietly shut before the bed dipped. 

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You smelled her perfume as soon as she walked in. 

“Can we talk?” Karina’s voice came out softly. You didn’t move, staying as still as possible. “I know you’re still awake.” 

When you didn’t respond, you felt Karina pressed up against yours, an arm snaking around. 

“Karina, let me sleep,” You grunted out, scooting away. It was futile since she latched onto you like a koala, holding onto you like her life depended on it. 

“No,” Her head shook against your back, face nuzzling in between your shoulder blades. “I’m not leaving until we talk.” 

“Then goodnight,” You stated bluntly, trying to shrug her off. She held on tighter. 

“Fine, guess I’m sleeping over.” Karina let go. It didn’t take that long for you to realize she was likely sending a message to her parents that she’d be staying the night. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and your parents always welcomed her.

“You have a class early tomorrow.” 

“And I don’t care,” Karina said simply as you heard her place her phone on the nightstand. You sighed again, literally rolling off your bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud. “What? What’re you doing?�� 

You pushed yourself up, noticing she wore your hoodie you had been looking for, but made no comment. “I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate finding us in bed together.”

Karina reached for your shirt, pulling you until you reluctantly end up on your bed again. “Do you think I care?” 

“Clearly not.” You muttered, resting your head on the pillow. You tried to get comfortable, closing your eyes, but you felt Karina’s gaze bore on the side of your face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Karina moved—annoyingly—until her leg brushed up against yours underneath the blanket. “Thank you,” She mumbled.

You knew what she was thanking you for, but you didn’t have the energy to get into it. You still wanted to sleep. 

It was just… 

You weren’t expecting to sleep next to Karina. 

--

Waking up early was normal, except the fact that you woke up this morning with an arm over your stomach. You almost freaked out, but quickly remembering that you fell asleep with an unrelenting Karina. 

You tried to move, but her hand bunched the fabric of your shirt. You tried again, but this time Karina woke up. She immediately let go, pushing herself up before profusely apologizing. 

“It’s fine,” You sat up, waving her off as you leaned against your headboard. You glanced at the clock, and it was still dark outside with the sun peeking through the curtains. “How’d you sleep? Sorry if I kept moving.” 

Karina mirrored you, sitting up while pulling the blanket. You noticed she removed your hoodie, shoulders exposed by a thin tank top that you had to look away out of respect. “I forgot you run really warm. I had to take off my hoodie in the middle of the night.” 

“Do you mean my hoodie?” 

“Other than that,” Karina didn’t acknowledge your question, “I slept fine.” 

“Cool,” You avoided looking directly at her. “You should leave. You have an early class today.” 

“Not until we talk about what happened yesterday,” Karina said stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest in your periphery. “Your father told me more about what happened.” 

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to school the rest of the week so my mother is using that as free labor at the restaurant.”

Karina tugged at your arm, forcing you to look at her. Your gaze fell directly on her chest and you blushed. It was too early, and being this close to her didn’t exactly stop your body from reacting. You didn’t quite have a control on your hormones. You quickly averted your eyes to hers. “It is a big deal.” If she noticed you gawking at her chest, she didn’t comment. “You got into a fight because of me.” 

“Yeah and I’d do it again,” You shrugged, eyes looking everywhere else except her. “You don’t deserve that.”

“People are going to talk regardless,” Karina sighed, shaking her head. She had a point, but it didn’t mean you’d let that stop you if you heard it yourself. “I don’t care what people say about me, and you shouldn’t either.”

“I do. I fucking care if someone’s talking about you like that. It’s fucking—” 

Karina placed her index finger on your lips, shushing you, “You’re not going to be able to stop every single person that talks about me in that way. I’ve heard it. Yeji’s heard it. We’ve all heard it, but it doesn’t mean we throw a fist every time. Yeah it’s annoying, but it’s not worth the trouble. They could say whatever they want about me, but only the people I care about know the truth, right?” 

You hated to admit she had another point, so you relented. She poked your cheek, “Stop brooding. I appreciate you sticking up for me, but really, it’s okay.” 

“I’d do it again,” You pouted, crossing your arms. 

“Yes you’ve said that,” Karina chuckled, resting her head on your shoulder. 

You couldn’t help how you felt your friend down there reacted, stirring at the proximity of an attractive woman especially in your bed. You cleared your throat, needing to get away from the situation and into the shower—a cold one at that. 

Karina was your best friend and you had a crush on your other best friend. 

This was all too confusing. 

“Walk me home?” Karina asked innocently, unaware of your inner turmoil. 

You nodded, not trusting your voice, but ultimately jumping out of bed. “I’m going to shower first.” 

Karina waved you off, sinking back underneath the covers. 

Thank god you thought.

You had to remind yourself you liked Minjeong. You just had a natural reaction. 

(That was what you told yourself, ignoring the scratch behind your ribcage as you looked back at Karina with her eyes closed on your pillow.) 

-- -- 

Karina whines as you beat her again in Mario Kart. She had the bright idea to play after you finished another bottle of soju. 

“Why don’t you let me win?!” Karina whacks you over the head, causing you to drop the controller. “You’re such an ass.”

“You’re the one that wanted to play!” You glare, rubbing the spot. “It’s not my problem that you suck.” 

“Shut up,” Karina puts you in a headlock, catching you off guard as you struggle to get out. “Say sorry.”

“What are you, five?” Her grip tightens at the sarcasm. “Okay okay, I’m sorry!” 

Karina finally lets go, huffing as you glare. She grabs another unopened bottle, handing it to you without saying anything. You reluctantly open it, but not before taking a sip that she hits you again. 

“Jesus christ,” You mutter once you give the bottle. “My neighbors are going to think I’m being abused.”

Karina rolls her eyes before standing up. You ask where she was going, and she answers that she was leaving. “It’s getting late. I better leave to catch the last train.” 

“What?” You pull her back down before she could take a step. “Just stay the night. I’ll take the couch, you take the bed.” It’s a simple solution. You also don’t want Karina to leave yet. It’s been a while since you spent time alone together. 

Karina contemplates it for a moment, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, please stay,” You nod, tilting your head towards your room, “Go change into some of my clothes.” Adding with an easy smile, “Just like old times.”

Karina laughs, shaking her head shyly, “Do I get to keep a hoodie or two?”

“Absolutely not,” You deadpan, bursting into laughter a second later as she trots to your room. “You have more than enough!” You yell after her, shaking your head. 

It’s nice to be with Karina. Life has been busy, leaving little to no time to actually see each other. You hadn’t seen her in almost four months, and that was at her birthday dinner Minjeong planned. You texted here and there, but it was hard planning anything since she was in and out of the country. 

Your best friend is a model for high fashion luxury brands. And, well, you’re just you, living a relatively normal life. She had a completely different lifestyle that associated her with a bunch of people in an industry you weren’t familiar with. When she caught her ‘big break,’ you were nothing but supportive. 

Time was precious. Minjeong dying definitely taught you that hard lesson, so you’ll take whatever time you can with Karina before she’s off jet setting across the world again. 

You realize that you’re drunk. Not tipsy. Flat out drunk. You glance at the empty bottles on the coffee table, counting them as you wait for Karina to return. There’s a couple unopened ones, which you’ll drink and you’ll call it a night. You don’t have any plans tomorrow, but you also don’t want to nurse a hangover. It gets harder to bounce back and be a functional member of society.

It could’ve been five minutes or thirty minutes, but the moment Karina walks back to the living room, your brain short circuits. You have to consciously close your mouth, jaw clenching as you take in her appearance. You have to also bite your tongue to halt whatever thoughts you’re having. 

You’ve seen Karina wear all sorts of your clothes throughout the years. From shorts to pants to shirts to sweaters to jackets to whatever else was in your closet. You thought nothing of it before, but now you’re thinking everything of it. 

Her outfit choice isn’t anything crazy, and you’ve seen her wear something like this before—sort of. She took one of your shirts, that would fit just right on you, but because you have a bit of height on her, it’s completely oversized. The shirt falls just past mid-thigh, and you couldn’t remember if the shirt was that big on you. You say this outfit is sort of similar because she usually paired it with shorts or sweats, but not this time. 

All you see is skin, her skin, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail up her thigh, mind drifting if she’s wearing anything underneath. 

You pray to the universe or whatever god she believed it that she is, because even the thought of nothing has your soul needing to be cleansed of the sins crossing your mind. 

“Everything okay…?” Karina’s question snaps you out of you ogling her. 

You clear your throat, nodding your head, “Yeah.” The word comes out a lot rougher than you expected. “Yeah,” You repeat, hoping it sounded a lot smoother.

(It didn’t.)

Karina apologizes for taking so long, explaining she took a quick shower to freshen up, as she reclaims her seat on the couch. You keep your eyes up, forcing yourself not to look down at the exposed skin. 

“I didn’t even realize you were gone for that long,” You say sheepishly, bashfully looking away and you fuck up by looking down. The shirt’s still big on her, but it slightly slid up, showing more. 

“Okay ass,” Karina rolls her eyes, swatting her hand playfully on your shoulder. “Go change. You have to be uncomfortable in that.” She gestures to your slacks and dress shirt. You took the tie off once she challenged you to a race. 

You agree, standing, but not without ruffling her hair because you just want to annoy her. She curses at you as you walk away, dodging the couch pillow in the process. 

You choose something simple—black sweats and black shirt. You decide to shower too because your hair feels oily and you need to wash away whatever that was in the living room. A cold shower too. To cool your body from the soju. 

(That’s what you tell yourself anyways.) 

You don’t take too long, but as you’re getting dressed, you hear a shriek from the kitchen. You run out from the room to Karina fumbling with the stove and water rolling over the small pot. You quickly notice the flames growing with each drop of water, and instinctively rush over, wrapping a strong arm around Karina to pull her away. 

“Be careful,” You lightly scold her, shutting the stove off with Karina pressed against your side. “What were you doing?” 

“I was hungry,” Karina’s arms rest on your chest, shaking her head. “I was looking for ramyun since I know you always have a supply of them.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’ll grab it and make it for you.” You move to let Karina go, but she tenses in your arm. Your grip slackens, and there’s a wide-eyed expression on her face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

Karina’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. She glances down and you realize why she’s suddenly frozen in your arm. When you heard the commotion, you completely dropped what you were doing, as in, you didn’t put a shirt on because you thought she hurt herself.

Clearly rationale goes out the window if Karina’s involved. 

(It wouldn’t be the first time. 

More on that later.)

“I—uh,” You stutter and drop your arm awkwardly, grabbing a kitchen towel to wipe the surface. “Sorry. I’ll clean this up and put a shirt on and make us food. Sit on the couch or do whatever.” It came out rushed, dismissive, embarrassed that you couldn’t look her in the eyes.

Karina’s seen you without a shirt before, but for some reason… 

It was different. 

Really different. 

That you didn’t know what you were thinking or feeling. 

-- -- 

“Oppa!” Minjeong yelled, grabbing your wrist. “There’s no point, he already left. Just let it go.” 

“Fuck that. I’m going to beat his fucking ass.” You were upset. Actually, upset didn’t even describe it. You were livid. For a small woman, Minjeong was able to stop you, yanking your arm back to keep you from doing something stupid. “Minjeong, let go.” You said calmly, but you definitely weren’t. 

Minjeong sighed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t let go, tightening her hand, “You ‘beating his ass’ or whatever,” She mocked and that added fuel to the fire, “Isn’t going to do anything.”

“It’s Karina’s birthday. How the fuck is he going to break up with her on her birthday?” You spat, frustrated with how the night was turning out. 

“Jaewook’s an ass,” Minjeong emphasized, “We’ve known this. She knows this too. She wasn’t serious about him.”

“She’s fucking crying.” Your free hand gestured to where Karina was. Her face was buried in Yeji’s neck while Ryujin rubbed her back, consoling her. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” 

“Look,” Minjeong slowly released her hand, gauging that you wouldn’t go anywhere, “It doesn’t matter.” 

“It—”

Your childhood best friend cut you off, “It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. It was always going to happen, it just happened to be today. If you want to do something useful, go make Karina feel better.” Her hands gently rest on your shoulders, pushing you in said woman’s direction. 

“What do I even say?” You asked, suddenly uncertain how to do something you had done before.

Minjeong shrugged, a teasing smile tugged at the corner of her lips, “You know her as well as I do. Maybe slightly less, but I digress. Now go. She most likely wants to see you.” 

If it were any other time, you would ask what Minjeong meant by that. Given the circumstances, there was no time to elaborate. 

You walked up to the trio, and Yeji noticed you first, tilting her head curiously. Ryujin turned around, tapping Karina lightly on the shoulder that she did the same. 

“Um, hey.” You scratched the back of your head, a well-known habit you did whenever you were uncomfortable. “Can we talk?” 

Karina wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, nodding. Some telepathic conversation happened between her and Yeji, that she gave Karina one last squeeze before she took your hand in hers. 

You guided her through the crowd and out of the bar, the cool air from the night hitting your face. It oddly felt suffocating in there, but you rationalized it was because of the amount of people. 

This breath of fresh air was exactly what you needed. 

You walked a bit, away from the entrance of the bar with Karina’s hand still in yours. To anyone passing by, it would look like you were a couple. That happened a lot. Even your own friends (Minjeong included) thought you were secretly dating, but you and Karina vehemently denied such rumors. 

“I’m sorry for ruining the night,” Karina said softly, voice slightly raspy as you passed by a coffee shop. “I didn’t think I’d react like that.” 

You gave her a confused look, legs stopping on the sidewalk as you turned to face her. “Wait, why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Karina forced a smile, eyes looking down like she was being scolded by her parents. “I meant to end things before tonight, but with work, I haven’t been around.” With the recent signing with an agency, she had been traveling in and out of the country. You yourself had hardly seen her, only knowing what’s going on from Minjeong. “I just didn’t think it’d hit me this hard. Another failed relationship to add to my belt.” She said bitterly, biting her lip and you saw how hard she was trying to keep it together. 

Without much thought and since you were still holding hands, you pulled her into a hug. It took her by surprise as her arms stayed limply at her sides. You weren’t the same height anymore—at a least tall enough to rest your chin on her head—so Karina fit perfectly against you. Her body trembled, face burying into your chest, and you didn’t mind that there would be tear stains on your shirt. 

What you did mind was how she was feeling. She had always been hung up on dating once you graduated high school. Minjeong told her to just be patient while you never understood the sudden change. It wasn’t like finding suitors was hard for her, but you witnessed that keeping them was the problem. 

(A problem you couldn’t solve.)

“It’ll happen,” You mumbled, holding her tighter, “I don’t know when, but it will. If it makes you feel any better, Mina dumped me because I was, according to her, emotionally unavailable.” 

That comment made Karina giggle. She looked up, meeting your gaze, “But you are. You like Minjeong.” Something flashed in her eyes as she said that, but it was gone as quickly as it came. 

“Yeah I do,” You shrugged. “But I like you too. So if some punk like Jaewook couldn’t see how great you are, his loss.”

Karina’s arms wrapped around your waist, “Stop,” She whined, embarrassed at the sudden compliment. “You’re making me blush.” 

“Good,” You nodded. You didn’t know what you were going to accomplish by pulling her away from the party, but you were glad you did. 

“Wait,” Karina tilted her head back again, “You didn’t go after him right?” 

You gave a sheepish smile, “I may or may not have tried.” Karina slapped your lower back, followed by a small pinch. “Okay I tried, but Minjeong stopped me.”

“What have I told you about getting into fights? You never listen to me.” Karina huffed, unwrapping her arms before stepping backwards, crossing them over her chest. 

(You ignored how you wanted to pull her back in.) 

“I didn’t get into one,” You retorted, raising an eyebrow. 

“But you would have.”

“It would’ve been for you!” You reasoned as Karina started walking away, shaking her head. 

“I know,” Karina said once you caught up, shoving you off balance. “You’re still the same as when we were kids.”

“When it comes to you? Absolutely. That’ll never change.”

-- -- 

You place the tray on the coffee table. Two bowls of ramyun along with a plate filled with whatever sides you had. You even cooked an egg since you know that’s how she liked it. 

“Thanks,” Karina sends you a small smile, reaching for the utensils. 

It’s just a tad awkward. After the ordeal in the kitchen, you went to put a shirt on and prepared a quick meal. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to satisfy a drunken craving. 

You eat in silence, the only sound is the slurping of noodles and the occasional blowing to cool them. You’re at a loss for words because as much as you want to say something, your mind is elsewhere. 

It fell into uncharted territory, a place you didn’t know existed, hidden from you until you absolutely had to find it. You couldn’t figure out if that consciously or subconsciously, but all you know is that however you felt for Minjeong doesn’t compare to what you’re feeling for Karina. You can discern that it’s the same, but different. It’s more intense, more intentional, just more. 

(Maybe you’re just drunk, but don’t people say that when you’re drunk, it magnifies feelings you already have?)

You finish eating at the same time, awkwardly smiling before you stand to clean up. Karina doesn’t let you though, instructing you to relax since you did everything. “It’s only fair,” She says quietly. 

As Karina puts things away, you grab an unopened bottle off the table. You doubt alcohol will help you understand what exactly you’re feeling, but it’ll keep them at bay. 

(Or it won’t. Who really knows at this point.) 

Your body feels warm, especially your cheeks. You hardly pay any attention to what Karina’s doing, but keep an ear out in case something happens again. You’re lost in your thoughts that you don’t feel the couch cushion dip, but Karina’s arm brushing against your arm snaps you out. 

“You okay?” Karina bites her lip, that the thought she’s cute crosses your mind. 

“Ye-ah.” The word gets stuck, turning a one-syllable word into two. “Should we finish these, and then go to bed?” 

More alcohol sounds like a bad idea, but there isn’t anyone to stop you. Plus, you couldn’t let it go to waste. 

Karina nods, and you sense a question coming, but she doesn’t ask anything. She instead tells you a bit of her current project, somewhere in Paris, and how she just left without any warning. Her manager was pissed, but she didn’t care. She needed to return to Korea and be here for this. For you is what she meant, but you’d never know that. 

“Are they mad?” You ask out of curiosity. Karina barely spoke about her job with you so this would be the first time you hear it from her. 

Chuckling, “No. They understand where I’m coming from, and even if they took me off, I couldn’t care about it. This is more important.” 

What you heard was Karina being a good friend, a good daughter, to be there in this serious time, but you felt she meant that you were more important than her job. It could be your imagination, making something out of nothing. 

You are an important person in Karina’s life, but not that important. You didn’t see yourself as someone that had that much of a presence in her life. Maybe when you were younger, but as you grew up, you both had different friends. 

(But you had always been there for each other.)

Whatever weirdness that was there, vanished, poof. It was as if whatever formed wasn’t there, but you’d bet your life that it was. The moment passed, but you were stuck. 

The conversation shifts into something light, easy, blatantly ignoring the tension that hung over you as you spoke about your job and the mundanity of it. Karina listens. She always does with such attention that you had never seen her give anyone else. She hung on every word, eyes always on you as if you were the only two people in the room. 

You’re not keeping track of time as you talk. It’s easy talking about whatever crosses your mind without worrying about what you’re saying. Karina knows you, never judging but always quick to call you out when you’re wrong. You valued her opinion the most so you listened. 

“Where was Jennie?” The question catches you off guard, not expecting that name to come out of Karina’s mouth. They didn’t get along. Cordial for your sake, but you heard it from Jennie and Minjeong that they didn’t like each other. 

You thought they’d have a lot in common. They’re both models, so it made sense that they’d have something to talk about. They knew of each other, but never worked together. 

You also thought the first time they met, introducing Jennie to both Karina and Minjeong, went well. They seemed friendly, laughing a lot from what you heard. 

That was not the case. 

Minjeong said that Karina said that Jennie was not worthy of your time and attention as Jennie said that Karina liked you, pretty much in love with you. You didn’t know what she was talking about because you had never seen Karina that way nor had she ever acted like she saw you more than a friend. You had seen Karina in relationships, and how she was with them wasn’t like that with you. 

It was a point of contention in your relationship. Jennie accused you of using her to make Karina jealous. You called her delusional because there was no way Karina could ever see you that way, no possibility of that happening because your best friend was out of your league. Hell, you didn’t even play the same sport so there was no competition.

“Ah, well we broke up a month or so ago,” You say vaguely. You didn’t feel the need to go into detail about why. “It was mutual. Things just weren’t working out.” 

“What?” Karina turns to face you. “What does that mean?” 

What happened was Jennie was going away for longer and longer periods of time. You knew what you signed up for, but within the past few months, she’d take on more projects. You learned she was avoiding you after she saw you and Karina from a distance, as she said she had never seen you look at her like that. When you asked what she meant, she couldn’t explain it. She just said it was different, and you denied having any feelings for Karina, which she chuckled at. She agreed that maybe you didn’t, but she couldn’t bear to find out. 

You were stumped after she left, leaving you alone in your apartment, staring at the door. You didn’t know what to even say because Jennie had it so wrong. You liked Minjeong. 

Right?

You couldn’t let it rest. So you decided you’d tell Minjeong how you felt, to prove to Jennie that who you actually liked was Minjeong—not Karina, definitely not Karina. 

You would never know now. Minjeong was gone, and any chance of learning if she felt the same was impossible. The ‘what if’ kind of situation if things hadn’t happened the way it did. 

“Scheduling and all that,” You tell a partial truth, figuring getting into that right now would reveal something you’re not ready to admit. “I’m not hurt about it. It was easy to move on.”

(Would you ever move on from Minjeong? That question lingered in your mind.

Unless…)

Karina doesn’t believe you, but she accepts it, still saying I’m sorry as you finish what’s left in your bottle. You tilt your head all the way back and when you’re done, she’s doing the same. 

“Would you have ever told Minjeong how you felt?” Karina asks quietly, eyes focused on the bottle as her hands fidget. 

“I was going to,” You say simply as her eyes widen in surprise. You take that as a sign to continue, “I think after my last conversation with Jennie, I needed to know. I planned to tell her that day, but now it’ll just remain a mystery.” 

You aren’t prepared for the next words that come out of her mouth, “So pretend I’m her and tell me.” 

“Karina, what?” Shocked at how easily she said it, as if it was just telling her what day of the week it is. “What’re you saying?” 

“Tell me what you would’ve told her,” Karina paraphrases it, but it isn’t making sense why she’d suggest it. “What’s the big deal?”

“Uh, that’s personal,” You argue. She raised an eyebrow, calling your lie. She’s heard it all throughout the years, but this time, it felt like something you had to keep from her. 

“What’s different telling me now than all the other times you have before?” 

Karina’s right. 

It shouldn’t be different, but your gut tells you it is. That whatever you say now is actually meant for her. 

“Come on,” Karina continues, grabbing your wrist in her hand. “You telling me won’t change the outcome.” She’s not wrong, but it doesn’t feel right either. “Think of it as a way to get everything off your chest.” 

You hesitate. Your anxiety spikes. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you actually consider it. You’re scared that you’re going to say something you’re not prepared to admit. 

Emotions are high. Being drunk makes it hard to regulate them, let alone understand what you’re exactly feeling. And you go back to Karina’s current outfit, which doesn’t have you thinking clearly to begin with. 

It’s a split second choice, but you relent, deciding that whatever you’re feeling is how you truly feel. Maybe it’s the soju. Maybe it’s Karina. Maybe—ultimately—it’s a sobering realization that you’ve actually fooled yourself all these years. Jennie was right. 

You were—are—in love with the woman in front of you. 

But she’s telling you to confess how you felt about Minjeong when that never existed. Minjeong was still your best friend, but you quickly realize just how different your relationships with each woman were. 

Karina tugs your sleeve, breaking you out of your thoughts. She tilts her head, concern etching her eyebrows closer. “I mean you don’t have to. 

“I…” You trail off. “Okay,” Nodding, “I’ll tell you, but take me seriously.” 

“When do I not?” Karina smiles, nodding. She swings her legs up, causing your gaze to drift down, as she crosses one over the other. 

You couldn’t believe you’re doing this, but here goes nothing. You hope she doesn’t read between the lines for once. 

“So I have something to tell you,” You start because even though you rehearsed it a thousand times for Minjeong, this is the first time for Karina. You have no idea how to say it and your current state of mind isn’t making it easy. Her gaze is unwavering, adding more pressure. “I’m…” 

“You’re…” Karina gives you a soft smile, knowing where the sentence is going, but unknowing that this is to her. 

“In love with you,” You admit out loud for the first time and for yourself. You decide to keep it short because there’s just too much going on in your head. “I don’t have much else to say, but yeah, I’m in love with you.” 

Karina’s jaw drops, eyes squinting as you don’t say anything else. “That’s it?” 

“Well, yeah?” You didn’t feel the weight leave your chest the moment you said those few words. If anything, the weight got heavier, pressing harder. 

“There’s no way. You’ve told me way more than that,” Karina argues, scooting closer that her leg brushes yours. “You’re hiding something.” 

“What could I possibly be hiding?” You snap, moving your leg because physical contact is not what you need right now. 

“I don’t know,” Karina shrugs, “But there’s something you’re not telling me.” You couldn’t say much, so you stayed quiet. That was enough for further questions, or from your point of view, demands. “Tell me.”

“I told you I’m in love with you,” You say easier, more confidently, more sure. “What else is there to know?” 

“Present tense?” Stupid semantics. “You’re in love with me?” Karina points to herself, as if she’s clarifying your statement. 

What did you have to lose? Oh, that’s right, her. You never got to the what happens after part in your head since you were still comprehending what’s happening now. 

“Yes,” Here goes nothing, “I’m in love with you. I think it was always you, not Minjeong, that I actually had feelings for. You’re one of the best people I know and I’m grateful for you in my life. I’m starting to realize that if there’s anyone I’ve ever lost my mind for, it was you.” 

You look away, shy and embarrassed for saying all that. Karina stares at the side of your face, and you don’t know what she’s thinking. Your body feels warm, and you couldn’t blame the alcohol. The room’s quiet, tension thickening the longer she doesn’t say anything. 

“You’re in love with me,” Karina repeats, unsure that she has to say it to herself to make sure she’s not dreaming. 

“I mean, yeah, I think? I’m a bit drunk but you’re making me feel things I’ve never felt,” Biting your lip, “Maybe acknowledged is the better word.” 

When you look up, Karina’s lips catch yours and you light up. Your body goes from warm to hot, burning at the sensation of her. Her arms fall on your shoulders, steadying herself as she lets out a sigh against your lips. Body pressed against you as you sink into the couch. 

“You have no idea,” Karina breathes out, air hot on your lips, “How much I’ve wanted to hear that.”  

As you start to move your lips, Karina pulls away. You go to chase her, but her hands firmly keep you in place. Your body tenses, hands twitching at the need to have her close again, but you stay. 

“And if I loved you back? What then?” Karina asks, voice transforming into something you’ve never heard—or better, experienced. It sends a shiver down your spine, and she smirks as your jaw clenches. “Well?” 

“Do you? Do you love me?” You don’t recognize your own voice as the words leave your mouth. 

“You’re an idiot,” Karina leans forward and pecks you sweetly on the cheek. “Completely oblivious,” She murmurs against your skin, lips ghosting your ear. You lose it when her teeth nip at your earlobe. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” 

You’re about to respond when Karina places her index finger on your lips. You kiss it, eyes slowly meeting hers once you get to the tip. “Prove it.”

Karina’s expression darkens, and you’re fucked. It goes straight to your cock as it stirs underneath your sweats. “Let’s go.” She stands, taking you with her, “You’ll eat your words soon enough.” 

You want to eat her out, but you’ll see what she does first. 

Karina drags you to your room. A lot of thoughts cross your mind, and your imagination runs wild. You aren’t, however, prepared to be guided to sit on the chair across your bed. You typically used this piece of furniture as a placeholder for your clothes that you were too lazy to put in the laundry basket. It was in the bathroom, but some days, you were exhausted.

A finger tilts your gaze to meet Karina’s, heat shoots through your body. Her eyes are glazed over, hooded with lust as she watches you like prey. “I’ll show you,” She murmurs, “Watch me.” 

Her wish is your command as she slowly leans back, fingernail lightly scratching on your chin. She glances at your crotch, smirking at the pitched tent poking through. You weren’t small by any means, well above the average, that there was no way to hide it. 

“Keep your hands here,” Karina guides them to the arm rest, “Don’t move.” What she says, you do. She kisses you softly, tongue trailing against your lips. You groan when she pulls away, eyes filled with mirth. 

“You know…” Karina trails off, slowly walking backwards, “I’ve wondered what you’d feel like.” Her knees hit the bed, playfully laying down. “Especially after you slept with Yeji.” There’s a slight tinge of jealousy in her tone. 

It was a one time thing. Yeji wanted to get dinner after midterms, and you were the one willing while everyone else wanted to sleep. You didn’t know how it happened, but you ended up in bed with Yeji to blow off steam. Obviously Karina and Minjeong found out. The latter chuckled while the former gave you the cold shoulder for a whole week. She couldn’t believe you’d sleep with her best friend, and you didn’t see the big deal. You were single regardless of your feelings for Minjeong, you had needs. 

Karina props herself on her elbows, legs spreading that the shirt (your shirt) hikes up, exposing more and more of her skin. “She literally would not shut up about you for a week.” 

It’s a vague memory since it happened so long ago, and you remember getting teased by the group. You had no idea Yeji was so vocal about it. 

You watch the way Karina trails her finger down your shirt, pausing at the hem before you meet her eyes once again. “Naturally, I could not stop thinking about you for a week and then some.” Adding slowly, “She was very detailed.”

In a subtle move, her hand slips underneath, knees falling open like a book and you sharply inhale when the action confirms what you had been wondering since she walked out of your room. 

“Karina,” You growl, but you don’t move. She told you to stay, but your body is practically screaming to pounce. 

“Bet you weren’t expecting this,” Karina teases, eyes fluttering as she swipes a finger lightly through her folds. “I wasn’t expecting anything to happen, but… I’m glad I’m comfortable.”

Then it starts.

You’ve had thoughts about Karina before, especially as a teenager. Guilt washed over you anytime you thought of her like that. She was your best friend. It was slightly hypocritical to say since you could say the same about Minjeong, but there was something different about Karina. She was the type of girl you could never get close to. Untouchable in that sense, and it may have annoyed you whenever someone did get close to her in a way you never would. 

Until now. 

You watch, nearly holding your breath, as Karina touches herself. It doesn’t help your downstairs situation when her eyes are focused on you the whole time. You’re witnessing first hand how Karina pleasures herself, and you want nothing more than to be an active participant. 

“How you holding up there, buddy?” Karina teases, the whites of her eyes making a brief appearance as she rubs her clit. You don’t realize how hard you’re gripping the armrest nor do you realize how much your body leans forward to get a better view. “Yeji said you were thick.” Your cock practically throbbed at that statement. “I better stretch myself out, no?” 

It happens instantaneously. The moment Karina slips one finger in, she lets out the hottest moan you’ve ever heard. 

“Jimin.” You could spontaneously combust. 

“I’m, like, really tight,” Karina says casually, as if this could be said in typical conversation. “Be a good boy and let me see what I’ll be working with.” 

You nearly rip your sweats down, cock springing out from the confines of the fabric that was holding it together. You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes widen nor do you miss the way she adds another finger, gasping before she draws out a moan.

“Okay,” Karina pants, staring intensely at your length. “Yeah, I’m going to need some help.” She raises her other hand, gesturing you to come join her on the bed. 

You kick off your sweats on the way over, leaving you naked from the waist down. The offending piece of clothing discarded somewhere on the floor as you kneel in between her legs. You’re salivating at the sight of her and all her naked glory. Her pussy’s shaved, clean, very well kept that your imagination called that. It did not, however, imagine how wet she would be. 

You dip your head, but Karina grabs your hair before you could do anything. A pathetic groan escapes your mouth and she laughs. 

“Hold on, lover boy,” Karina says coyly, tilting your head away. “I still want you to watch me.” 

“You’re a fucking tease,” You breathe out, mesmerized by the way she pumps her fingers inside her. Her walls are sucking them in, and you feel yourself leaking at the tip. 

“I have to, a little bit,” Karina pants as she grazes over her clit, “I’ve had years of this building.” 

Her pace quickens, which her shirt rides up, revealing her well-endowed chest. They’re not huge, but you wanted to see how they’d feel in your hands. 

Her back bows suddenly, pushing her breasts forward, letting gravity push them as her orgasm washes over her. You can’t help yourself, but your hand wraps around your cock, moaning as you finally give yourself some attention. 

“God,” Karina breathes out once her orgasm subsides, body relaxing into the bed. “Okay, none of that.” She flicks your forehead.

“Come on,” You pout, release your cock before you could do anything. 

“No.” Karina cups your jaw, trailing her thumb along your bottom lip. “Sit against the headboard.”

“Karina.” You’re flat out horny for the woman in front of you. Being in between her legs and not eating her out is a crime. 

“Do as I say,” Karina caresses your cheek, affectionately, sweetly, like she has you right where she wants you. 

You relent, huffing, but not without being a little shit as you blow against her clit. Her knees come together, trapping you there, at the sudden stimulation, body still sensitive from her quick orgasm. 

“Fuck you,” Karina groans as she pushes your face away. “Now go sit.” 

You crawl on your bed, momentarily pausing above Karina’s face. She watches you curiously, head tilting to the side as you slowly bring her into a chaste kiss. You don’t bother taking it further as her lips simply feel nice against yours. Though, her squirming beneath you has you smiling. 

You follow her directions, settling against the headboard with your legs wide as Karina turns over. She sits on her knees, calculating her next move, which results in her hand on your thigh. “You know…” Trailing off as her nails lightly trace over your skin. 

“Not again,” Your lungs have seemed to stop working as her hand moves closer to where you want her most. You have to force yourself to breathe. 

An airy chuckle falls from her lips as they turn upward. Her finger faintly touches your cock, causing your body to jerk. 

“So… Sensitive,” Karina states matter-of-factly. You hold your breath as she leans forward. Her breath ghosts your tip, that’s embarrassingly leaking. You almost want to push her head down, but you’re slightly scared she’ll stop if you don’t obey her orders. “You’re a lot… bigger up close. Maybe even the biggest? It’s hard for me to say.”

You’d rather not hear about Karina’s previous lovers. She has never told you about it explicitly. At least to what you would imagine she’d say to Yeji or Giselle. She doesn’t seem to pick up on the jealousy, and if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge it, continuing with this torture. 

Karina pushes herself up, face up close to yours that you’re realizing how beautiful she is. “What?” Her hand snakes around to your neck as her other rests on your chest. Her weight presses into you that you freeze when your cock brushes against her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that,” She laughs nervously, eyes darting away. 

“Hard not to,” You gulp, raising your arms to hold her waist. She tilts her head down just enough that her lips brush against yours. 

And a chord inside you breaks. 

You pull her body in, bringing your lips together as she moans softly into your mouth. Her tongue swipes on your lower lip, and you comply, granting her access fully. It’s all teeth and tongue, wrestling, fighting for dominance. 

Karina wins the moment a soft, small hand wraps around your cock. It catches you off guard, groaning into her as she slowly moves up and down. 

“Fuck,” Karina rubs her palm over the tip, collecting whatever’s leaked to spread all over your length. “I can barely wrap my fingers around you.”

You know. You feel it in the way she slightly squeezes, like she needs to get a better grip. It’s dizzying how she moves so fluidly with every flick of the wrist. You’re losing yourself with her lips moving easily, taking whatever you give her. 

You want to give her the universe at this point. 

“Can I?” Karina murmurs against your lips, picking up the pace of her stroke. 

“Can you what?” Your eyes roll back. 

“Put my mouth on you.” 

You groan again, nodding eagerly as she lowers her head. You’re entrance at the way her tongue sticks out, extending the slightest as she licks your tip. “Holy shit.” The first contact of her on you has you reeling. 

A pretty smirk paints her pretty face as she languidly moves her tongue over your length, not leaving any part untouched. It’s embarrassing how fast you feel yourself coming apart. You haven’t even had the full experience of her mouth around you—

“Fuck.” You spoke too soon because her mouth engulfs your tip that your hand shoots to her head, gripping her hair as you try to have some kind of control. 

By accident, or not, you push Karina’s head down, enough to the point where your cock hits the back of her throat. The action triggers her gag reflex, forcing her off. 

“Okay relax,” Karina says sharply after she gasps for air, a little bit of saliva sticking on her chin. “I think I’ll need to practice.”

“Then fucking practice,” You snarl, eagerly waiting for her to continue.

Karina shakes her head as she rocks to her heels, swinging a leg over yours. She’s suddenly seated on your lap, and her hips rock the slightest, pussy brushing over your cock. Your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her back. It elicits a gasp followed by a sigh as she rests her arms around your neck. 

“Later,” Karina’s hands slip behind her when you feel her fingers wrap around your cock, lightly slapping it against her clit. “I want this—”

“Condom!” You grip her body as she slowly lowers herself, a hot warmth engulfing the tip. 

“What?” A frustrated sigh leaves her lips as she raises her hips. You hold in the whimper as your cock leaves her body. “Why?” 

“I just want to be safe?” It lacks confidence, making it sound more like a question. 

“Eh?” She looks like she wants to rip your head off. She seemed very determined to get you inside her, to feel all of you, but you were taking the one thing she desired for. “You’re fucking weird, but I don’t care. You’ll let me take it off at some point.”

“Doubtful,” You say weakly, watching that same determination increase across her features. 

She’s going to ruin you. 

You reach into your nightstand, conveniently having a box of condoms ready. Karina rolls her eyes at the easy access, but hey, you have a healthy sex life and you didn’t need a bunch of little yous running around. 

Within seconds, you tear the wrapper, rolling the offending piece of material over your length. Karina scoffs, shaking her head, as you toss the trash on the floor. 

“You did that fast,” Karina mocks, shifting her hips back to the original position. “You’ll wish you didn’t put one on.” 

You’re about to make a crude remark, but Karina moves without warning, hand guiding your cock in the apex of her thighs. You feel the warmth radiating over the condom as her pussy wraps around the tip. 

“Karina,” Your hands grip her hips, steadying her. “You’re so tight.” You moan through gritted teeth. 

“My fingers aren’t that big,” Karina sighs at the intrusion. “Your dick, however, is.” 

The statement goes to the aforementioned organ and you can’t wait. You drag her down your length, bullying through her walls. The sensation overwhelms you, choking out a breath as she stops halfway. 

“It’s too much,” She’s trying to breathe, but a pained expression stops you.

You have to control your body, your hips, your hormones—everything. You want to lose yourself in her, which you’re just about there, but you care more about her comfort. 

“I could just eat you out or something,” You offer. Her pussy contracts at the statement, eliciting a moan. 

Karina shakes her head, teeth biting into her bottom lip, “No, I can take you. Just,” She breathes out, “Give me a moment.” 

You don’t want this moment to last for too long because your cock is throbbing, but you grin and bear it. 

You don’t want to admit Karina’s right, but your mind goes haywire at the thought of how this experience would feel without a condom. It’s a lot through the condom. 

“Okay,” Karina says more to herself, mentally preparing as she gently rocks her hips. The motion steals a sharp moan as she takes more of your length. “For fucks sake.” 

Your first mistake was looking at where you’re joined. The sight of half your cock being swallowed by her pussy has you at a loss for words. 

Your second mistake was your hips jerking upward, accidentally forcing her to take more of you. Her legs spread wider, welcoming the intrusion as she inches closer to the base. 

It takes a few more minutes and a few more rocks of her hips that she’s fully wrapped around you. 

Hot. 

Tight. 

Warm. 

You would like to say you have an extensive vocabulary, but you couldn’t find the words. You’re speechless, when you’re known to have a mouth. One of the things Karina finds the most annoying about you. She could never get you to shut up, yet she finally has—in the hottest way possible. 

“Bet you want to take off the condom,” Karina murmurs, teeth nipping at your jaw as your head slowly tilts back. Your body shives once her lips kiss your neck, tongue soothing whatever mark in its wake. 

“I don’t want to get you pregnant.” 

Karina chuckles, lips curling up against your skin, “It’s called birth control, a part of modern medicine. I’m safe, but it would be a thrill to find out if you could.” Her pussy tightens at her words, sending a shock through your cock that has your mind blank at the thought of that. 

“Karina,” You warn, hands tightening around her waist. The temptation is too great. The chances of her getting pregnant are low, but still. You couldn’t let your morals go, as much as you wanted to. 

Karina rips your shirt off, head slipping through before she haphazardly tosses it over her shoulder. You’re completely naked and her eyes devour your physique. 

“I knew you were fit,” Karina’s nails lightly trace over your abdomen, muscles flexing at her touch, “But I didn’t know you were this fit.” 

Your hips snap up once her finger brushes over her clit, jolting her body forward. “Stop with the teasing or let me just fuck—okay, okay.” She rolls her hips down, sending your favorite body part into sensation overload. 

“Watch me,” Karina commands softly and you comply, eyes watching her as the anticipation builds. Sweat drips down the back of your neck as she tugs her shirt off, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

“You look so fucking pretty.” You stare at Karina in awe, struck by her beauty and, well, her bare chest. You’re on even playing fields, but you were still at her mercy. 

Karina smiles as she lifts herself slightly, dragging her walls along your length before dropping down. She lets out a breath, biting her lip as she repeats the motion.

Slow.

Deliberate. 

Intentional.

As if her one goal is for you to lose your fucking mind. 

You already lost it the moment you felt her warmth wrap around you, but this? This is different. 

You do as she says, watching her body move fluidly over you, working your length in and out of her body, ensuring that no part of her goes untouched. It’s damn near a spiritual experience that your arms lift to hold onto your hips, to make sure you aren’t dreaming, but she pins your arms above your head against the headboard. 

“No,” Karina says roughly, voice thick with want as her pace increases, hips undulating that has your body on fire. “I’m in control.”

“Jagiya.” The nickname slips out after a particularly jolting thrust. “Please.” You whimper, head tilting back hard against the headboard. There’s going to be a bruise, but you couldn’t care less. 

It’s difficult to pay attention to the pain when you have someone like Karina on top of you, doing the most ungodly and deprived things to you, as if she has something to prove. 

Karina’s pace gradually increases, forcing her to let go and tethering her hands on your shoulders, nails digging into your skin. The pain adds to the pleasure and you can’t help but moan after every thrust. 

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Karina says through her teeth, biting her lip to muffle her moans. “I wish you didn’t put the fucking condom on.” And you agree. You shouldn’t have, but you’re absolutely certain that you would not last if you felt all of her without it. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble, hands finding her hips to guide her movement. “Do you want to—” 

Shaking her head, Karina breathes out, “No, too late. I’m going to—fuck.” 

Karina suddenly crashes her lips against yours, arms pulling your neck into her as she lets out a broken moan. Her body seizes in your hold, back arching that her breasts press against your chest. Then what follows has you gripping her hips tightly as her pussy tightens rhythmically on your cock. 

Her orgasm wracks through her body to you that you throw everything she has commanded of you so far out the metaphorical window. You finally take control, thrusting up into her body as she screams at the overstimulation. 

“C’mon baby,” You murmur, burying your face into her neck. “Keep going,” You goad, spurring her on as her body trembles. “Keep coming for me.” 

“God, yes,” Karina cries followed by a choked sob, slamming her hips against yours. “Yes, yes, yes,” She repeats like a mantra, a prayer to take her over the edge again. 

It’s all too much for you, that small pit in your lower abdomen growing. Your orgasm is right behind hers and by some divine intervention, you’re able to tell her. It triggers something because she suddenly lifts her body off, ripping the condom off before two hands wrap around your cock. 

“Cum all over me, you know you want to,” Karina says seductively, stroking her hands up and down over your cock. 

And you’ve been obedient from the start, why stop now? 

You explode without much warning, letting out the deepest growl as Karina aims your cock over her chest. Her face lights up once the thick ropes of your essence shoot out. It’s a lot, but it doesn’t deter her in the slightest. She welcomes it, even sticking out her tongue as a bit of it hits her chin. Your vision goes white, too overwhelmed with the intensity and pleasure flooding your body. 

“Jagiya,” You whimper, fingers circling her wrist as she keeps going. “It’s too much—fuck.” She eventually stops, leaving you fucked out and empty. You’re in a daze, not cognizant of what she’s doing. You moan, eyes shooting open when her lips place a soft kiss on the tip. 

Karina chuckles softly, shaking her head as a small smile tugs at her lips. She leans away, and you wish you had your camera nearby. It’s a sight to behold of you painted all over her body. It’s a mess, but what a beautiful one. 

“Next time,” Karina says lowly, eyes narrowing, “You’re going to cum inside me.” 

You agree like an idiot willing to risk everything for her. She giggles, rolling her eyes, since your ability to form a coherent sentence is limited. “Yes ma’am,” Is all you can manage to say with her still on top of you before your eyes close, heavy with exhaustion. 

The last thing you remember is Karina’s lips on your cheek, smiling as sleep inevitably takes over. 

-- --  

You wake up relaxed and content. For the first time since the accident, you see the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s all thanks to Karina. Sex aside, you’re more sure of how you feel and everything you ever felt for Minjeong was how you actually felt for Karina. 

You didn’t know how to broach the subject of you and her, but you were confident that you’d be able to. You were sure there would be arguments, but that was just how you spoke to each other. When it boiled down to it, you and Karina were more than understanding when the other was involved. 

(You wouldn’t admit it, but when it came to Karina, you took everything seriously.) 

You don’t notice it at first, but after scratching the sleep from your eyes, you realize that the other side of your bed is empty and neatly made. You vaguely remember waking up in the middle of the night to Karina nestled into your side before falling back asleep. 

Except for a folded note on the pillow. 

You sit up slowly, stretching the aches from last night’s activities before grabbing the small piece of paper. You figured Karina had to leave early, briefly remembering she had a flight back to Paris.

But as soon as you read the familiar handwriting, your heart sinks. 

Last night was a mistake. 

It shouldn’t have happened. 

I’m sorry. 

-- -- –

(i, too, am sorry. there will be a sequel tho, that much i can guarantee. when? idk, but thank you for reading, lolz)

[killerpancakeburger]

KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself. 

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake. 

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom. 

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction. 

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant. 

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

[fizz-pop-thwip]

I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.

To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.

Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.

You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?

How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?

When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.

The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.

Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.

He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.

Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.

He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.

Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.

He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.

He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!

He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.

Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.