#he only has like 18 mins in this movie and I will make gifs of all of them

[lady-phasma]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - Dune: Part 2

All that remains is pleasure

*disclaimer: in context this is horrific and I stand by that; however, we are unhinged and need every gif of him, even some that are ambiguous when out of context.

[sailoryooons]

Obsidian | One | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You remember everything. The first time you radiated at garnet, feeling the power of the jewel rushing through you. Remember the energy pulsing at your command. And you certainly remember the face of the man who ruined your life. Then there’s Min Yoongi, the Chaotic who is the key to your revenge.

☾ Word Count: 10,012

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Graphic depiction of death and body dismemberment, a lot of blood, Yoongi is brutally wounded/gutted, near-death experience, traumatic loss of parents, mention of suicide (not actual, but metaphorical), this is pretty blood and gory but not gratuitous? Death of a koi fish rip Agust the I. 

☾ Published: April 22, 2023

☾ A/N: Don’t ask me to explain myself. I have no idea what I’m doing and my Aries moon is in full control of me and working me like a robot. This is a series or something I don’t know. I have no plans and no thoughts, just brain rot. Inspired by Jade City by Fonda Lee, the movie Colombiana, the movie Scarface and by my fuck it we ball attitude about writing what I want when I think of it. Also please note that the order of first and last names will be done in Western fashion in this, as this story does not exist anywhere real-world-adjacent and thus, will be first name > last name.❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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An emerald Radiant walks into the bar and makes a mess. It sounds like a punchline, but you never hear the end of the joke. Only the hook and the line. No sinker. 

Before he arrives and messes everything up is important, though. 

-

Market Town is a mess. Each side of the road has storefronts with open doors, neon and holographic signage blinking on and off with the shitty pulse from the electricity grid. In front of them on the side walks and spilling into the street are the stall vendors, ever-changing and ever-moving sales carts, tables, boxes and people hawking their wares, fruits and trinkets at the hundreds of people who writhe through the market. 

It smells terrible. You keep to yourself, all the stink of bodies and rotting fruit and the sizzling fat of meat making your head dizzy no matter which way you navigate. Market Town stretches an entire district, street after street of stores and people and things and it feels like it never ends, the stench of humanity clinging to you like a second skin.

Water crashes down on a man selling lab-grade jewels to a wary-looking mother and daughter. They flinch away from the seller as he sputters and screams, soaked in sweat and whatever liquid has been tossed out an apartment window from above. He cranes his neck up to locate whoever tossed the water - or more likely, piss - out of the window, but he has hundreds of options to choose from from the apartment building that towers behind him. You grimace and step further into the middle of the street. Most of the apartments in Market Town have years worth of failing plumbing, and you have no desire to be showered with piss and shit. 

It’s too early in the evening for the lights of the neon advertisements glittering in the air above your head to cast a blinding light on your eyes. Their glow is not yet painted on the surge of people coming and going, but you know by sundown Market Town will be a watercolor of holographic and neon advertisements courtesy of Roanoke Insurance, Jend Cosmetics, and Jura Jura Coffee: Best Brew In Diade. 

At least Market Town has sensible advertisements. It isn’t the vibrant horror of naked figures bent over, or the bloody holograph of a man having his brains blown out. Crimson District has no shortage of unique and salacious advertising and the money its businesses generate make the lights and the glow much harder to ignore, even in the daylight. It’s part of why you prefer to scrounge around Market Town like a mangrove rat. 

Well, and it’s what you can afford. 

Namjoon’s work stall floats around Market Town. Usually, you can find him tucked between Margot’s fruit stand and Len’s divination table. Namjoon likes to nibble on Margot’s sweet strawberries in exchange for fixing the till on Margot’s stand, and Len is an okay stall neighbor when he isn’t so drunk that he’s trying to convince you that the end is near and the world will be swallowed in garnet and obsidian. 

That sounds lovely, you always tell him.

Prepare for the end, Len always answers. 

The sweet smell of tangerines reaches you through the sizzling smell of frying meat a few stalls over. It’s better than the rank stink  of flowers wafting from a stall a few carts over, your head dizzy with the fragrance as you approach Namjoon, Margot and Len.

Margot’s fruit always smells better than any other food set out across tables and bins on the street. You’re pretty sure it has to do with the pretty, green citrine jewel that he keeps tucked away and out of sight and away from any wandering eyes. 

You can’t blame him. Even though citrine isn’t high on the Jewel Caste, Market Town is primarily made up of Nulls. They certainly can’t radiate with jewels, but they sell them at a high price to those desperate enough to feel the power of a Radiant. Some even promise to sell jewels that make Radiants Caste Drop to a new, darker and more powerful color. 

Only an untrained Radiant would think a Caste Drop is possible through a rock. It’s stupid, really. Anyone who wears or buys jewels openly in Market Town is asking to be robbed and gutted. You’ve even seen as light as a diamond caste get murdered here. 

A kindly young man stands in front of Namjoon’s stand. It’s really just a wooden table with a bunch of trinkets, clocks with too many dials, little holographic action figures jumping into different poses, and other wares that run on technology or small engineering. Namjoon prides himself on being the best tinkerer, though you’re willing to bet he’s a lot smarter than that. 

Namjoon himself isn’t much older than the man at his table, gesturing to a watch as Namjoon leans over it. Namjoon’s brown hair has grown long, shoved back by a black, cotton strip he has tied around his head to keep it out of the way. He’s dressed in a dirty shirt and canvas overalls, a little bit of grease on his arms. His glasses slide down his nose, lenses fogged with the humidity that collects in Market Town and makes it rot. 

A fly buzzes toward you from Margot’s stand. He has his back turned to you, placing little white pricing stickers on his green melons. He's a little portly and very short - especially when Namjoon stands and shakes his customer’s hand. Namjoon is taller than most people, and much broader, his shoulders wide and arms thick, suggesting that he did something else before he became a tinkerer in Market Town. 

You don’t know what, though. You can sense the peridot he has hidden in the soles of his boots and the fingertips of his work gloves, giving him power to radiate as he works on his little devices and mending broken objects for people. But you’ve never asked. 

Asking questions is the first step to murder in these parts. 

When his customer leaves, Namjoon turns to you and blinks his brown eyes at you owlishly, magnetized by his prescription lenses. He’s handsome - a little too handsome by Market Town standards - and he smiles at you, a dimple popping up in his cheek. 

“I finally fixed this device for you,” Namjoon says by way of greeting. He digs around in his overall pockets and produces a tiny, silver device that looks like a bullet. “The little battery inside was fried. I put in a new one and replaced the copper plating on the starter. Your wires were totally corroded and-”

“How much?” you ask, a little exasperated. Namjoon will go on forever if you let him, and you need to get to Montana. “I only asked for the battery to be looked at, Joon.” 

“No cost. It was a fun little device to look at. Kind of dangerous, though, no?”

“You can’t not charge me. I told you to stop giving people their shit for free.”

His cheeks turn cherry as he scratches the back of his neck. “Fine, what about five nil?” You toss the coins on the table and he passes you the device. “It’s a mini shatterwave, right? The high-pitched frequency scatters the frequency of Radiants?” 

You give him an annoyed look. “Yes.” 

“Who made it? It’s a fascinating device.” 

Instead of answering Namjoon’s question, you pocket the little bullet  and toss another five nil on the table. “For silence,” you tell him firmly. 

He wants to ask another question. You can see it in his face. Namjoon is always asking you questions about the things you bring to him and ask him for. It isn’t his job to ask questions, especially as freely as he asks them. But Namjoon operates like someone who has no idea that he’s tucked away in the most dangerous market in the Crown Cities. 

Nothing Namjoon does is that of someone low born. He’s too polite, gives out too many handouts, and lets his curiosity get the best of him. Lets his clients become friends. You’re fond of him as much as someone of your position is allowed to be - maybe even a little more - but Namjoon is a danger to himself, no matter how often you keep steering him back in the right direction. 

“You!” Len leans over Namjoon’s table, his glassy green eyes wide, pupils dilated. His hair is white as salt and sticks up in multiple directions, looking as though he may have been electrocuted and never recovered. He points one knobby finger at you. “The world will end in garnet and obsidian.” 

“That sounds lovely, Len.” 

You predict the next words. Have heard him say it dozens of times. “Obsidian.” 

Len surprises you. That has yet to be a response in your little game of prophecy, and you open your mouth to indulge and ask him what he means when something tingles at the back of your neck. 

You pause and glance to the side where Margot is dealing with a customer arguing about the price of squash. A soft breeze rustles the canvas topper to Margot’s stand, carrying the scent of tangerine with it. Something is buzzing at the back of your neck, and your gaze slowly drifts from Margot to a man passing by the cart. 

This is someone who blends in. His clothes are plain: his pants are ripped at the knees and scuffed at the bottom, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest in places where he’s sweating through. He has a floral shirt pulled over, open and fluttering in the balmy breezy of the market.

Nothing about him is remarkable, except that he’s beautiful. Perhaps not on the first glance, but when you blink and focus, it feels like you’re seeing him for the first time. You have no idea how upon first glance you thought he could ever blend in.

He has a round face, glowing and pale like the moon. Inky hair that is a little bit dirty, a few wavy pieces falling over cat-sharp eyes. He smirks as he walks, and though he isn’t looking at you, he seems smug about something. You’re not sure what, but as he passes you, you feel that tingle again. 

Your eyes dart to all of the places you look for jewels first. Hands, ears, neck, and wrists. Nothing, there’s no jewel on him. You can’t sense a frequency about him that makes sense - he doesn’t fit anywhere on the caste that makes sense to you, but it’s definitely a Radiant-adjacent sensation. He’s on the caste, but you don’t know where.

Most Radiants feel like a dull buzz. When they have jewels, it’s more like an itch that you want to scratch. There is always an attraction for a Radiant to use jewels, even if they don’t belong to them. This feeling isn’t that, it’s more invasive and sharp, not like anything you’ve felt from diamond caste to onyx caste.

When he gets a few yards away, the feeling begins to fade. You start to turn away but he tosses something up and the air and catches it. You narrow your eyes and he does it again, realizing he’s tossing a tangerine up and down. 

A tangerine that he stole. 

“Hey!” you bark at him, making several people turn in your direction, including Namjoon and Margot. The man doesn’t pause, tossing his tangerine in the air again. “Hey motherfucker! You have to pay for that tangerine!”

That catches his attention. He turns and looks at you over his shoulder, eyes round and mouth parted in surprise. A few people turn to look at where you’re shouting, but you mostly go ignored. Thieves are common here and most people don’t bother to yell at them anymore. 

The man pauses for a moment. His gaze darts between you, Margot who is coming around his cart behind you with a knife, and the ripe little tangerine in his hand. He looks at you again, dark eyes glittering. For a second, the two of you are connected, strung together by an unlikely moment between strangers. Then he does the damndest thing: he grins. 

And then he’s running down the street, floral shirt snapping in the wind as he dashes headfirst into the crowd. 

Like the idiot you are, you take off after him. Suddenly, you are the number one security measure of Margot’s fruit stand, a man who has never given you a fucking discount in your life. You have no idea why you’re running after this tangerine thief, but you feel energy surge through you as you do, dodging people and bodies and things as you tear after him. 

The tangerine thief is quick on his feet but you’re fast too, the emerald jewel hidden in your boot sending energy through you. You only radiate a little - not enough to draw too much attention, but enough to not lose sight of his red shirt flapping as he takes a corner and leaps over a stall. 

He’s a Radiant, you realize. You suspected when you felt him walk behind you, but the ease at which he vaults a market stall much taller than him gives it away. He isn’t worried about hiding his status from you, which can mean a couple of things. 

You don’t consider any of them, going around the stall instead of over. The emerald in your shoe is more than enough to send you several meters in the air, but you like to play your cards close. Don’t like to flash power unless you absolutely have to.

In a market full of Nulls, you prefer to blend in. Unjeweled is safer, especially in Market Town full of thieves and cut throats for naive or unsuspecting Radiants.

Just as you catch sight of your thief again, there’s a loud snap in the market. You look up, seeing a two story stall made from dry-rotted driftwood splinter. There’s a single second where you’re watching the top of the stall holding fresh rain water and it’s crashing down onto the market floor. 

Screams ring out as alarmed market goers are startled by the sudden deluge. You just barely throw up a shield of concentrated energy. Water splits once it hits you, a river breaking around a boulder. Chaos ensues, the stall owner screaming her head off and wailing about the precious rainwater she collected to bless with her divine spiritual energy and sell, while shoppers and other stall owners alike are furious about their now soaking persons and wares. 

Dropping your shield, you shoulder through the crowd. Now the smell of garbage is wet and pungent, clinging to bodies as you shove through the mess, looking for any sign of the pretty boy and his stolen tangerine. 

It’s a mass of colors and people, lanes between stalls and the crowd opening and closing. The movement of Market Town flexes like a living thing, shifting and writhing, a hungry serpent sliding through the streets. 

“Fuck,” you growl. It was a well placed distraction and perfect aim, using his power to snap the beam of the stand. 

With a sigh, you look down at your watch and curse. You’re going to be late to work. Again. All because you chased down a thief for a fruit salesman that doesn’t even like you.  

But that tingle. That sense of awareness that pricked the back of your neck, sharp and lethal. You think about it as you speed walk to the outskirts of Market Town where the edge of the Night Sphinx territory borders the loosely carved strip of streets that belong to the Green Dragons.

The lane of pockmarked pavement between the left and right sides of the street is the only place in Diade where two families of the Armory share such close property. Though the Salib and Park families are friendly enough, it still doesn’t do well to mix too much among Armory families outside of official business.

As soon as you hit the corner, you keep your eye on the other side of the street. It’s lined with clubs and bars and gambling dens that belong to the Night Sphinx organization. A few patrons loiter on the street, but it’s mostly members with sphinx tattoos, brooches or emblems stitched to their clothing to state their association.

The sun is sinking toward its final goodbye, rays of gold light cut in half by the towering buildings of Civ just a few miles away. It’s a beautiful sight, a shot straight down to the lower elevation of the giant buildings turned burnish gold by the sunset. 

Even from a distance, the commercial district of the city is imposing, its steel teeth biting upward at a colored sky. You wonder what it must be like to live in that world. To work or live in one of the Civ towers. You imagine you’d have your own little office with a desk and a private window to look out at the world. So high up near the clouds, a god of civilization. 

A group of Green Dragons pour out of the door of Montana and onto the sidewalk. It draws your attention away from the shining, ever-golden Civ to the flickering neon sign above a banged-up metal door. It looks like the lock is busted again and you make a note to tell Burro. Not that he’ll get it fixed. It’s not worth the nil to fix anything in Montana, including the mangrove rat infestation brought in by one of the liquor shipments from Blows.

Inside the bar is no better. Sticky floors, wobbling tables with chipped wood and scratched lacquer coating, a single bar with broken stools pulled up to the edge. There are a few holoscreens flickering above the colorful bottles that line the bar, sometimes interrupted by Jungkook’s tattooed hand reaching for bottles.  

Montana is rarely busy. It’s a new acquisition fronted by the Green Dragons, though the building isn’t new and neither is the bar. It had been closed for almost fifteen years, a rotted hole of a used-to-be-bar until Jimin opened it up again. He doesn’t intend for it to be a popular place to drink as much as he needs it for Green Dragons operations, but he fixed it up a bit. 

As you round the bar to throw your shit in the office, a mangrove rat scurries by your feet, making you screech and jump. Jungkook lifts his head, round eyes sweeping back and forth for danger, hands cocked and fists half-clenched. He catches sight of the rat scurrying into one of the holes in the side of the wall and scowls before nodding in greeting.

So maybe Jimin hadn’t fixed up the bar that much. 

If Jungkook is irritated by your tardiness, he doesn’t say anything. You’re just as pleased as you are displeased to discover that Burro isn’t in the bar at all. You suspect he’s down the block wasted in the Green Garter. Instead of asking, you immediately get to helping Jungkook maintain the system behind the bar, which is mostly cleaning vigorously at all times to fight the grime that seems to inch up on the place every hour. 

Working with Jungkook is your favorite. He’s a quiet kid with a guarded expression and soft eyes. You don’t ask him much about how he got here or why. Jimin seems to show him the same reverence as when he first found you, so it’s safe to assume that Jungkook is a stray like you. 

Even without jewels, Jungkook is tall and broad, his arms thick and strong enough to lift kegs one-armed over his shoulder. You’ve seen him go from quiet and unassuming behind the bar to throwing a jeweled Radiant across the street. You know he has your back. Despite the fact that his eyes sometimes drift to where your emerald is hidden. It’s the only evidence that you have that he’s frequency sensitive, like you.

Jungkook’s energy vibrates somewhere on the light colors. Maybe jade or rose, it’s hard to place him because he wears no jewels. 

The sound of some sporting event on the holoscreen buzzes behind you. The murmur of voices is soothing as you work, scrubbing a stain on the bartop you don’t remember being there yesterday. A quick sweep tells you that it’s the usual crowd this evening: Daro who is a smoky jewel sitting at a booth with Rollins and Gia, both emeralds; twins Rin and Maki sitting at the bar with their sharp, matching gazes vibrating at amethyst, and Bolero who doesn’t run with the Green Dragons but has become a regular, the only Null in the building. 

Bolero signals for another drink, grey eyes following you. He’s dancer-thin and his face is sharp like a hawk, grey eyes even sharper. He’s always in a long, red trench coat no matter how boiling hot it is. You think you’re going to see him keel over and have a heatstroke one day, but he never does. Just strolls in, pushing his long, dark hair out of his face before sitting down wordlessly at the bar. 

You pour him a whiskey neat and slide it over to him. He hums a thank you and turns his attention back to the screen flickering behind you. Bolero never talks, but you don’t mind him. The Radiants ignore him, though they hadn’t at first. You still see Rollins sporting a ropey scar on his hand from learning how much bullying Bolero would take.

Apparently, it was very little. 

Most places would have had the Null killed and dragged out for the city sanitation to collect in their once-a-week pickups. To Radiants, anyone who doesn’t have power, who can’t radiate on the same frequency as a jewel, is beneath them. Powerless. Ant, meet boot. 

Radiants, you’ve learned, are certainly powerful but not quite intelligent. 

“Where’s the asshole?” you ask Jungkook as you close the dishwasher with your hip. Three hours in and no Burro in sight. Not that you’re complaining, but as the manager, he’s usually expected to be around in the event that someone important drops by for business. 

Jungkook shrugs, dubious. “How should I know?”

“He can’t keep leaving you alone.”

“I’m not a kid.” You give him a look and his cheeks go pink. “I’m twenty-two, you know?”

“A child. A mere infant. Baby.”

“Ugh.” 

“Anway,” you clarify, throwing a rag over your shoulder. “It’s not right. If someone comes in here for Green Dragons shit and Burro isn’t around, you’re gonna be fucked.” 

“I can service them just fine.” 

“Yeah? Where’s the stash?” 

Jungkook smirks and leans against the bar. He’s dressed in dirty pants and a t-shirt he’s patched holes on several times already. His arms flex as he crosses them, cocking his head to the side. His hair is so much longer than it used to be - now it’s wavy and falling into his eyes, sticking to the sweaty skin of his forehead. You want to offer him a haircut, but you don’t want to baby him further. 

“It’s in the grate underneath the desk in Burro’s office.” 

“Great, and then they’ll flay you alive for not answering in their weird little code phrase.” Jungkook’s smirk falls off his face and you shake your head. “Exactly. Just because you know things doesn’t mean you know all of them, Jungkook.”

“Whatever.” 

Jungkook pushes off of the counter and distracts himself by sullenly adjusting the bottles on the bar. You snort and turn back to trying to pry the sparking plug of the freezer out from the outlet to move power sources. Eventually, you feel Jungkook’s presence at your side, making you crane your neck up to look at him.

“So what is the code phrase?” he asks, pout prominent. You roll your eyes and straighten just as the door opens to the bar. 

The door swings open with such force that it smacks the wall behind it, doorknob cracking. It draws the attention of the bar, everyone turning in their seats to see the man standing at the entrance. He’s mid-size with wild, blue hair and there’s a messy tattoo of a black cat on his arm. Your eyes narrow and the bar stills at the violent entrance of a Night Sphinx member in front of you, panting and staring directly at Bolero, the only person not looking at the door. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, looking back and forth between them.

The Night Sphinx is angry and his energy snaps around him, a crackle in the air. You don’t have to sense the emeralds on him to know where he’s at on the Jewel Caste. He has a single ring on his finger and two modest earrings, not polished jewels but still emeralds all the same. 

For a second, the man doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Bolero in a red rage, face purpling with the way he’s panting, fists clenched at his sides. You think he might just pass out, but then he’s pointing a finger at the Null sitting at your bar, sipping whiskey.

“You motherfucker!” His voice is garbled and slurred with liquor. “You fucked my wife!”

“Oh for jewels sake,” Maki grunts, turning away and sharing a roll of her eyes with her twin. “Take him outside and kick his ass then. He’s a Null.” 

If being sold out by Maki bothers Bolero, he doesn’t show it. He simply sits there in his heavy trench coat, eyes fixed on the game on the holoscreen. This seems to enrage the man at the door even further. He ignores Maki’s advice and storms into the bar, gathering energy as he goes. The chairs and tables he walks by rattle and slide away from him, the pulse of energy flowing through him as he radiates disturbing them. 

No one in the bar moves. Jungkook is transfixed and confused, eyes wide. The Green Dragons in the bar watch with mild interest. Bolero isn’t one of them, and the bar isn’t important enough to pick a fight with one of Salib's men over a Null.

But you’re not looking forward to the cleanup, and you don’t want to explain to Jimin how you did nothing while some Night Sphinx came in and fucked up a patron. 

As your hand slides to the small, bullet-shaped device Namjoon fixed for you, Bolero moves. It’s almost too fast to follow the fluid way he stands and spins from the chair. His foot slips under the stool, using the toe of his boot to hook it behind the stool’s leg and he kicks. 

The stool flies at the Radiant. He’s a little drunk and slow, but he’s still a Radiant and he reacts with enough clarity to pulse with the jewels on his hand and earrings once, sending a shield of energy around him. The stool shatters against the invisible wall, leaving the intruder unharmed. 

Bolero is still fast for a Null though, already flipping a round table over to duck behind it as the Night Sphinx sends a green bolt of energy right at Bolero. It hits the table and singes it, cracking it in half. It’s loud as thunder, your yell going ignored as the two of them wreck the left side of the bar. 

This is the ignorance of the Radiants. They don’t care about how destructive they are, storming into places and letting others take damage as they make demands and use force when they want. 

Grabbing the scatterwave in your pocket. Bolero is dodging and waving blasts of energy from the man who chases him around the bar, blowing tables and chairs to bits. The other members of the Green Dragons have moved out of the warpath, collected near a booth on the far end of the bar, watching and jeering as Bolero doges a slice of concentrated energy that would have taken his head off.

“Fuckers,” you mutter. 

Palming the device you press the top of the scatterwave. The device is small but it lets out a high-pitched sound when activated, sharp enough to disrupt frequencies within a small radius. Its target is the darker colors on the caste, its high frequency enough of a distraction and disruption for Radiants that it makes it harder to radiate.  

The reaction is instantaneous. You feel nausea roll through your stomach and your world spins. It’s an earth-shattering noise, your ears vibrating with the force of the whistle. Your vision is blurry but you stumble toward where the two men are fighting, the Radiant bent over with his hands on his ears screaming from the force of the shatterwave. 

Bolero is unaffected. He has no frequency to scatter and he takes the shot, leaping at the struggling Radiant with a snarl on his face. 

“Not in here!” you screech. “He’s a Salib, you cannot kill him in Park territory. Go somewhere else! Bolero, please!” 

Bolero looks at you once, grey eyes full of fire. He has the intruder by the shirt collar, fisted tight as the man continues to thrash against the sound of your device. You think for a split second that Bolero is going to drag him out of the bar and do what you ask. He turns to look at the door, considering it. 

He decides not to. A knife appears in his hand and you yell as he stabs downward. You can’t hear the fleshy sound as Bolero sinks the blade in over the wailing of the device in your hand. He hits right between the ribs and up, a solid jab directly to the heart. The Radiant jerks in Bolero’s arms, his death twitch violent as he fists Bolero’s shirt, eyes wide, face aghast. Then he goes limp, sagging as a ragged breath leaves him. 

No one moves. Bolero holds the dead man in his arms, panting and looking down at him. They are so close, Bolero’s face right over the man’s and if you didn’t know any better, you might think they were lovers. Bolero slowly crouches down, suddenly gentle as he lays the dead body on the ground, hands hovering over him. 

You press the top of the shatterwave and it goes silent as it can with the high-pitched ring in your ears as you try to recover. You’re a little unsteady on your feet, pressing your hand against the bartop to keep your balance. A sharp pain behind your eyes signals an oncoming headache.

“What the fuck?” your voice sounds foreign and strained in the ringing quiet. “Are you fucking serious?”

Bolero rises, pulling the bloody knife with him. He wipes it on his pants and flips it in his fingers artfully. Familiar with blades, you note. He half turns to you and glances around the destroyed section of Monatna before he looks back at you and shrugs.

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but he was trying to kill me.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You kill people outside of this bar. You aren’t permitted to kill here.”

“Montana doesn’t protect its patrons?”

“Montana protects Green Dragons,” you clarify with a hiss.

You feel your fingers twitch. The familiar urge to radiate rises. It’s a natural instinct, to want to reach for the power that is right there on the edge of your mind all the time. You feel the emerald in your shoe. You imagine it beckons you, wiggling its fingers, begging to be used. 

You ignore it, pointing a finger at Bolero. “You fucked up and you know it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a dead Night Sphynix?”

“Tell the Salib’s he attacked first.”

“You’re a Null asshole, it doesn’t matter that he attacked you first. You’re not fucking one of us.”

Something passes over Bolero’s face when you say it. Offense, you think. It’s there and gone so fast that you think you imagine it. You only feel a little guilty that he thinks you mean not a Radiant. You really mean not one of the Green Dragons but it doesn’t matter, in the end. 

He pulls his phone out. “My boss will pay for the damage and deal with the Salibs.”

“Unless your boss is Jimin fucking Park, that doesn’t really matter.” 

Bolero holds the phone up to his ear. You watch as he smirks a bit, shrugging. “Nah, but don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh I’m fucking worried about it,” you snarl. Jungkook is watching wordlessly, mouth parted slightly. “Call Jimin,” you bark at him, making him flinch. You immediately soften your voice. “Sorry, just - call Jimin.”

With a bow of his head, Jungkook grabs the phone and dials.

Jungkook starts murmuring quietly when Jimin - or an assistant, more like - answers the phone while you let yourself into the back and lock the backdoor for security before returning to the front. Bolero is sitting at the bar waiting, the dead Night Sphinx behind him. Red is beginning to pool around him, almost black against the dirty floor of the bar.

Heading to the door, you throw Gia a look. “Watch the bar,” you grunt. “Unlike you did when that fuck stick walked in here and ripped the place apart.”

She looks down her nose at you, eyes narrowed. Gia is terrifyingly beautiful, standing nearly a foot taller than you and built with wiry muscle. Her silky, black hair is braided out of her face, elegant and carved like one of the glass angels sold in the art district. Her eyes are the same color as her jewels, a stunning emerald that flashes in annoyance at your command. 

Gia nods once instead of arguing. The other Green Dragons behind her have the decency to look ashamed. While they aren’t heavies dedicated to protecting the Park family assets, they are low-level lackeys who could have prevented half the bar from being blown to bits by a Radiant. Especially the two amethyst caste twins who look at the wall blankly realizing what's going to happen now. 

Instead of stopping the Night Sphinx, they all stood there with drunk stares and half-tilted grins. Jimin won’t like it and they know it. It doesn’t matter that Montana isn’t an integral operation to the Green Dragons. It’s about pride and respect. The fact that a drunk, emerald caste man under the flag of the Salib family stumbled into Jimin’s bar, destroyed the place and then was killed by a Null is going to set Jimin off.

So you find a target to direct his anger at. 

Burro is slouched down on a leather couch at the Green Garter, exactly where you expect him. He doesn’t see you coming, the scattered green and white lights from the stage refracting and splitting into dozens of beams shining in his eyes as he stares at the topless woman on stage. There’s hardly anyone in the club and only a few people look startled when you grab him by the collar and yank him from the booth.

Security at the door and near the strange straighten up. The girl on stage keeps moving, lithe movements carrying her  away from where you lift Burro up, fingers digging into his shirt enough to rip. He smells like grain alcohol and sweat, the stubble on his face indicating that he may have slept in the club.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Come on,” you snarl at him, shooting daggers as one of the security guards steps in your direction. You let yourself radiate just a little, enough to give out a steady hum that even the lightest on the Jewel Caste can feel the sensation of an emerald jewel. He backs off immediately despite the fact that you can see and sense the amethyst pieces drilled into his pale knuckles. 

But there are two things that stop him: emerald is close enough to amethyst that a good Radiant can fuck up someone who is only a little darker than them on the Caste, and you’re a Radiant under the protection of the Park family, specifically Jimin, who owns the club. 

As much as it annoys the man whose job is to protect the dancers and the patrons, if you want to beat the shit out of Burro on the shitty green carpet in front of everyone, he has to allow it. You’re one of Jimin’s favorite little Radiants and everyone knows it, especially on this strip of road. 

No one stops you as you drag Burro out of the bar. His feet slide on the stained carpet, trying to find purchase as he yanks at your hand, shouting obscenities at you with his reeking breath. Your grip is iron, and you throw him as hard as you can once you’re back onto the sidewalk. He hits the ground hard, shoulder cracking against the street. 

Burro yells and rolls over, curling into himself. You fight the urge to kick him a few times, your wrath waiting like a coiled snake to strike out and punish him for being such a burden to deal with. You leave him in a fetal position, storming back into the bar to throw a couple of nill on the table for the drinks and a heavy sum more on the stage for the girl’s trouble. She winks at you, pretty enough to make you flush and spin on your heel to get back outside where Burro is still laying on the ground. 

Most of the time, you don’t bother. Burro is technically your manager and your superior. He’s an asshole and a waste of the Green Dragon's salary, which is why Jimin stuck him behind the bar, a punishment as much as a favor to Burro’s father who is a mid-ranking heavy in the Park family’s retinue. It’s as good as his son is willing to get for an emerald caste who is lazy and spends most of his days gambling, ogling at naked bodies, or wasted in a booth with Rollins. 

Even so, most days you let him yell at you. Throw curses your way. Drone about how shitty of a bartender you are - which is true - like a gnat that won’t leave. He’s harmless on good days, annoying on bad days, and he’s too afraid to retaliate in rare moments like this when you shove him into his ill-fitting role. 

“Get up,” you spit at him. You have the urge to crush his fingers that are spread out on the sidewalk. You think the loud crunch beneath your boot might be satisfying. You don’t, though. “Bolero just killed a Night Sphinx in the bar.”

“Swhwat?” 

You growl as he slurs, slowly pushing himself to his feet. You think he might have been handsome once. He has the making for it, but his days knocking back grain alcohol have weathered him. You see the early signs of Alloy addiction all over his face, scabs picked raw, leaving behind dark scarring, the track marks in his arms when he wears short sleeves.  

Raucous noise reaches you from a group of Night Sphinxes watching your exchange. Their laughter and whistles echo across the street, backed by the loud hum of shitty neon and the now very bright and flickering holographic display ads spinning in windows. This is a nice show for them, you’re sure. Everyone on this edge of Market Town has seen Burro get his shit kicked, though usually not by you.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You start marching back to Montana. “You’re needed at the bar. You know, the place you manage.” 

He mutters something behind you as he manages to get to his feet, tilted and tripping. You don’t catch what he says, eyes fixed on the sleek car that sits parked right in front of the door at Montana.

The road here isn’t really built for cars. It’s full of cracked faultlines and potholes, but Jimin has opted for a sharp-looking SUV with green LEDs running down the side and a little metal dragon on the grill. Not his personal car, but a business class that is no doubt reinforced with bulletproof windows and shatterwave tech. 

There are four men standing around the car, dressed in pressed suits, each with a dragon brooch pinned to the front. They nod when you walk by and you keep your eyes low, feeling the different colors as you pass by: amethyst, sapphire, emerald. They have jewels drilled into their knuckles and some of their teeth, earrings of polished stone, and necklaces set with their respective caste colors. 

Walking around with that much power is safe enough for them, but it makes your skin itch. Thinking of all that energy just waiting to be tapped into, waiting for them to radiate. The urge to reach for the power just a few feet away lessens as you walk inside of Montana. 

Inside is a vision. Jimin’s loyal group of Green Dragons sit together in a booth, silent and heads down. Maki glances up for a split second as you come through the door, anger twitching on her face before she looks back down at the table in resolute silence, her curtain of black hair hiding her scowl. 

Good. She could have used her fucking amethyst to wipe the now dead man from the map and not suffered a consequence under Jimin’s protection. And yet there you are, walking slowly toward the scene of the crime. 

Jungkook is standing behind the bar chewing on his lip, hands linked behind his back as he watches the two men in front of him conversing. Bolero smokes a cigarette on the same stool he was on earlier, eyes fixated on the holo once again. The dead man is still very dead, Jimin’s men spread out around the bar to assess the damage.

Jimin is one of the two men speaking at the bar in front of Jungkook. Jimin’s dressed sharply in black dress pants and a matching black, tailored jacket with emerald buttons and a beautiful dragon broach set with emeralds and jade. His arms are crossed as he listens passively, dark hair slicked back. There’s a single dangling earring in one ear, a teardrop diamond at the end.

Jimin Park is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. He reminds you of a dangerous jungle cat. His eyes are sharp, shadowed by a full-fan of dark lashes, cheeks round and soft in contrast to his elegant jawline. He smiles at something the man he’s talking to says, full lips rosebud pink.

Your eyes drift to the man talking to Jimin and before you can think twice about interrupting them, you’re yelling, “You!” 

Both of the men jerk their heads in your direction. Jimin’s brows shoot up and he shakes his head as if to ask what the fuck? But you’re too distracted by the other man, who grins at you as soon as he realizes who you are, adjusting his floral shirt as he turns to face you head on. 

You get a better look at him now and you’re angry to discover that he is still just as stunning as he was in the middle of the Market Town stalls. His hair is pushed back out of his face more, eyes twinkling as they drag up and down your frame. He wiggles his fingers at you in a wave. 

“You can’t just steal tangerines!” you bark at him suddenly. 

“What?” Jimin asks. He frowns and looks between the two of you. “I’m sorry, do you know one another?” The man says ‘no’ at the exact same time you say ‘sort of’ which makes Jimin’s jaw tick, patience waning. “Well? Which is it?” 

“Seen her once,” the man admits. “But I don’t know her. She chased me through the streets of Market Town today like a lunatic. I think she took one look at me and fell in love.”

Your jaw drops. “You stole fruit from Margot’s fruit stand motherfucker! It had nothing to do with your good looks.” 

“So you admit I’m good-looking!”

A failed attempt at a response comes sputtering out of you. You stop and start your sentences multiple times, trying to come up with a wicked riposte to his ridiculous insinuation that you think he’s attractive. Which you do, especially when he gives you a full, shit-eating gummy grin. 

“Enough,” Jimin snaps in your direction. “Wait with Jungkook, I’ll deal with you later. And don’t interrupt me again, got it?” 

You bow deeply at the command.  You feel hot all over, an unpleasant mix of shame and something else that you can’t place for “Yes sir. I apologize for my outburst.” 

Jimin turns away from you and back to the tangerine thief, leaving you to rush behind the bar to stand next to Jungkook while you stare at the two of them.  

You have no idea who this man is. You’ve never seen him in the bar with Bolero, though it’s possible he’s come in when you’re not working. It isn’t likely, since there’s only one additional bartender besides you and Jungkook, but you can’t possibly imagine how this man is important enough to look Jimin in the eye when he speaks.

Jungkook gives you a head tilt and doe eyes. You shake your head, opting instead to study the object of your irritation rather than explaining. He doesn’t ask any questions but you can see the way he shifts back and forth, unsure of where to focus his energy. 

As one of the family members in the city’s Armory, Jimin is one of the highest-ranking citizens in Diade. Though the Green Dragons are on the bottom of the totem in the Armory, Jimin ranks higher than most of the city by being the son of his family’s leader. 

The man speaking to Jimin looks at him directly in the eyes as an equal. He is a hairsbreadth taller, but his gaze and tone are steady and respectful. There is no air of superiority between the two of them, making you wonder where exactly this smug man falls on the spectrum of city authority. 

Each face of the Armory is familiar to you: the Parks, the Manobals, the Salibs, the Achilleos’ and the Kims. This man belongs to none of them and yet Jimin listens to him calmly, nodding his head at whatever the man is saying. Jimin’s arms are looped behind his back and he is poised as ever, even making a joke or two as they exchange words in hushed tones. 

In Diade, the ruling family syndicates are the ultimate power. Jimin’s family owns the territory to the southeast, the Salib’s directly to the north, the Manobals to the west. You stick to Park territory only, always mindful of where each Armory boundary lies. 

Despite Jimin’s favoritism, you’re not a high-ranking member of the Park family’s Green Dragons. Jimin thinks you’re useful enough though, and has a soft heart for strays. Jungkook is proof enough of that as you are, two little sources of information and loyalty in his personal pocket. 

You work for Jimin, not his mother. 

The respect that Jimin shows the tangerine thief leads to a few possibilities of who he could be. Under the rule of the Armory, there are other smaller and less organized gangs. The Circles are not particularly powerful and still concede to the Armory, but they range from loose bands of idiots and thieves to highly organized factions. There are dozens of Circles in the city, but only a few are powerful enough to earn a smile from Jimin Park, the prince of the Green Dragons. 

Chewing your lip, your mind runs through a list of possible Circles this man could rank high enough in to matter. White Fang has always worked with the Green Dragons well. Their members can sometimes be found hanging out in Montana with tight if not overly polite smiles while they conduct business. While White Fang answers to all of the families of the Armory as a collective governing body, they are particularly fond of the Parks. 

There is little chance that the tangerine thief belongs to the Midnight Sun. As the largest and most powerful Circle, they are only allied to the Kim family. Dangerous for any Circle to declare allyship to only a single governing body, but the Kim family sits at the top of the food chain. Being protected by Yujun and his son Seokjin have its strengths.  

Your vision blurs when you think of the Kim family. Seokjin’s beautiful smile, the way his inky eyes glitter. He remains the most eternal person you’ve ever laid eyes on, and one of the most charming. Funny, smooth talking, intelligent. 

But Seokjin is a snake. A beautiful thing that can fool you into a false sense of security before striking and sinking his fangs in deep.  

Nausea unfurls in your stomach at the thought of him. You blink a few times, willing away the memories of him and his high-pitched laughter and anything else to do with him. Jimin shakes the man’s hand in front of you. It draws your attention to where their hands meet. Jimin’s hand is small and delicate in the large hand of the tangerine thief. A man who was raised with privilege and a man you suspect made his own. 

“I’ll be back,” Jimin calls. You realize he’s talking to you and you bow. He turns his attention to the group of his gang members sitting at the table, waiting for their punishment. He whistles at them, calling them like dogs. “With me.” 

You can’t help but feel a little smug as they jump up, tangled over one another to get out of the booth as fast as possible to follow Jimin toward the front door. None of them look at you or Jungkook, chins tucked to their chest and eyes on the floor. At least they’re good dogs who know when they’re going to be punished. 

“Hello again.” 

The tangerine thief is leaning on the bar. Up close, he smells like sandalwood and a hint of sea salt. It isn’t unpleasant, but you grimace all the same. There are bracelets on his wrist, but no jewels. The prickling, needle-like sensation comes back, right at the back of your neck.

“Jungkook, can you start cleaning up?” You ask. He nods and dashes away, giving the stranger a single nervous glance as he joins the security members of Jimin’s team cleaning up. 

They pick up the body and carry him through the bag on Jungkook’s guidance, dripping blood the entire way. Bolero doesn’t even glance as they pass him, still transfixed by the holoscreen. 

“Why did you use a shatterwave?”

Your eyes drift back to the man in front of you. Up close, you notice that his skin is flawless. He has a shine and glow to him of a healthy Radiant, and yet you’re not sure how to place him on the caste. You know he’s a radiant from his escape methods in Market Town, but you’ve never had this much trouble placing someone on the caste. “What?” 

“The shatterwave. Had to hurt you too, I imagine.” 

“Well no one else was going to do anything,” you answer, skirting his assertion that you’re a Radiant. “It didn’t hurt that bad. I’m a Light Radiant.” 

He raises his brows. “Oh, you’re a liar.” 

“About some things, sure. I can’t take on an emerald caste, though. So I used a shatterwave.” 

“There’s an emerald in your boot.” 

You grit your teeth. He doesn’t make sense. The needling feeling only increases as he cocks his head, scanning you from head to toe. His pout turns into a smirk and there’s something heated in his gaze that makes you squirm as you shift back and forth on your feet, trying to place him. 

Sensing jewel frequencies outside of the jewel you radiate most with is difficult. Energy is a fickle thing, and though you can feel the buzz of every color of jewel around you, most Radiants can’t. They can only sense what jewel they vibrate on the same frequency as, though trained Radiants can sense their assigned jewel and lighter. 

This puts the tangerine thief at emerald or darker. If he can sense the emerald in your shoe, it means he can use it. Unless he is a rare case like you and Jungkook, who are frequency sensitive. But he doesn’t feel like emerald and he doesn’t feel like he sits darker at garnet and onyx. 

You shiver remembering what onyx feels like, an oppressive and demanding thing.  

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lied,” you offer. You can keep skirting the topic of the emerald in your shoe, but he already knows it's there. 

He chuckles. It’s raspy and soft as a whisper. There’s no doubt he’s used to the effect he has on people. It reminds you a little of Seokjin and you feel skittish.

“No, I’m sure you are quite the liar.” He leans in a little bit. “I’m Agust, by the way.” 

Schooling your features is hard. Out of all of the Circles that crossed your mind that he could belong to, you never considered Black Lotus. It makes sense, you suppose, that Bolero belongs to the Black Lotus. It’s one of the few Circles in the city that not only accept Nulls in their ranks, but encourage it. A little oasis for Radiants and Nulls alike to claw their way to the top from the bottom of the barrel. 

My boss will pay for the damage and deal with the Salibs. You think of Bolero’s comment, realizing why he was so confident. His boss is the leader of the Black Lotus, a chaotic thorn in the Armory’s side who walks around the Crown Cities undermining authority where he can. 

Agust smiles, pride bleeding through when you recognize his name. He’s a little notorious for the destruction of three Circles associated with the Kim family and for donating thousands of nil to squatters in Blows. A violent killer with a soft spot for charity. Strange, and not quite as heroic as some seem to think it is. 

Instead of saying anything, you busy yourself with folding rags, feeling the way of his gaze. Agust is pretty with a soft edge to his face and a charming grin. There’s a confidence about him that draws the eye, and yet he can blend in just like he did at Margot’s fruit stand. He is both sides of the moon, light and dark, switching whenever it suits him. 

Again, he reminds you of Seokjin and your heart squeezes as you take a step away from him.

“Well, I hope you have a great evening, Agust.” It's dismal. Polite, but an end to the conversation nevertheless.  

He isn’t swayed. “What, no name?”

“Do you need it?”

“I’d like it. Is it as pretty as you are?”

“Your flattery isn’t welcome here.” 

“Then what is?”

You glare. “The money for Margot’s tangerine.” 

Agust chuckles again and shrugs. You expect him to walk away or volley back with a riposte but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the nil that Margot is owed and sets them on the counter, the silver coins clinking against the wood. He leans against the bar again, hand cupping his chin as he looks up at you.

“This cover me?” 

You swipe the coins off the bar and sniff. “I suppose.” 

“I like you. How about I call you Montana, hmm? Since you won’t give me a name, I’ll make one for you.”

Instead of looking at him directly, you busy yourself with moving around the syrup bottles in their plastic bin. “You don’t have to call me anything.” 

“Or Garnet?”

For a second, you stare at your hands before slowly dragging your gaze to him where he watches you, feline-eyes glittering. That pinprick feeling returns sharper than ever. You’re a mouse caught under the watchful gaze of a hungry cat. 

There are only a handful of people in the world that knows you sit on the second darkest color of the Jewel Caste. One of them is outside giving his gang members the lashing of a lifetime, one of them is sitting in a luxurious home in Aria and the other is no doubt watching cameras on the casino floor of Kaiju. 

Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. You think about the first time you radiated at garnet, the power so raw and rich that you were almost drunk on it. You were just a kid, untrained in how to syphon energy that volatile. You’d become sick right after, taking too much too fast and completely unaware of how to channel all that energy.

The Kim’s had helped you find a way. And then used it to their advantage, a little girl with no one else to count on with all that power just waiting to be directed. 

You refused to ever be used for your place on the Jewel Caste ever again. 

“Say it again,” you murmur, voice low. Your hands open and close and you feel the emerald surge in your boot. Agust is either onyx or frequency sensitive, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve gone head to head with darker than you before. “I dare you.”

To your surprise, his smile is sad this time. There’s a moment you think you see understanding. Compassion. Something soft. Then it’s gone and he gives you a brief nod before pushing away from the bar, running a hand through his hair. You don’t move, muscles locked and primed to lash out, to grind him to dust if you have to. You don’t have a garnet, but you don’t need it. You can do just as much damage with an emerald, regardless of whatever color he is. 

“Put the claws away, your secret is safe with me.” He nods to the pool of blood on the floor. “You have my apologies for the mess. Black Lotus will handle the fallout. Tell Bolero if any of those Night Sphinx fucks give you any trouble. You have my word I’ll pay my debt.”

“What debt?” 

He jerks his thumb at Bolero. “You saved his worthless ass.” You don’t disagree but you say nothing. He lingers for a second, looking you up and down. Something passes his face that makes your heart speed up a little. “I mean it. Call if you need.”

“I won't.” 

He grins. “Bye, Montana.” 

When Agust turns to leave, Bolero gets up and goes with him. When the door shuts, it’s just you and the sound of Jungkook and Jimin’s men putting the bar back together. 

No one can hear how loud your heart thunders. 

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THE JEWEL CASTE (from least to most powerful)

Light Caste

Diamond Citrine Aquamarine Jade Rose

Mid Caste

Peridot Topaz Turquoise Ruby Smokey

Dark Caste

Emerald Amethyst Sapphire Garnet Onyx

THE CHAOTIC CASTE (in general, from least to most powerful)

Opal Quartz Tourmaline Carnelian  Obsidian 

GLOSSARY

Alloy - A drug that allows radiants to lift frequency for a temporary amount of time and meld with a jewel they cannot normally radiate with.  Caste Drop - When someone drops a color on the Jewel Caste and vibrates at a higher frequency  Circle - Lower gangs who are not in the Armory Dark Radiant - Those who vibrate at the low-colors and high frequencies Jewel Caste - The order of least to most powerful vibrational jewel frequencies  Light Radiant - Those who vibrate at the lighter colors and lower frequencies  Mid Radiant - Those who vibrate at the mid-colors and medium frequencies Null - Those who don’t vibrate at the same frequency as the jewels and cannot radiate Radiant - Those who vibrate at the same frequency as the jewels and thus can radiate Shatterwave - A type of device that lets out high-frequency sounds to shatter Radiant frequencies in a certain radius Unjeweled - A radiant who doesn’t have any jewels on them to help radiate

[btsgoldnetwork]

The Golden Royals masterlist

We want to extend a big thank you to everyone who participated in The Golden Royals event. Here are the golden works of our Treasures.

So This Is What Makes Life Divine @jinpanman​

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Rating | Genre: pg13, fluff, angst, royalty!au, cinderella inspired

Summary:  It’s his wedding day and life couldn’t be better.

Lion And The Mouse @helenazbmrskai​

Pairing – Prince/(King)! Namjoon x Princess/(Queen)! Reader

Rating | Genre:  E2L, Fluff, Angst, Royal AU, Fantasy, Star Crossed Lovers

Summary:  You just follow your father’s orders at first, visiting the handsome prince becomes a routine in your everyday life. In the end, you help him escape but you never thought that he has been taken a liking to you too and that he’s adamant to save you from the claws of his enemy.

Royal Flush @ggukcangetit​

pairing: namjoon x reader

Rating | Genre: 18+,  royal!au, queen!reader,  prisoner!namjoon, strangers to enemies(?) to lovers, smut, thriller, p(with very minimal)

Summary:  your kingdom’s newest prisoner is giving you sleepless nights.

Made In A Fairytale @apotatomashedbybts​

Pairing:  Kim Namjoon× reader/OC ; Cha Eunwoo(Lee Dong-min)×reader

Rating | Genre:  Royal au; fluff; fantasy ; angst

Summary: She is a keeper of realms. Her job is simple: save realms from falling apart. And she has been doing this for long enough to cover her each body part with wound marks. But she is a human after all with her own limits. So when she was sent on a mission to Titan Realm a series of events and a specific person makes her test her own limits and she finds herself on a new edge of sacrifice, love and bravery and probably a new wound. 

Jeon Jungkook White Royal moodboard

Coming To Korea @burberryplaid​

Pairing:  kim namjoon x princess!reader

Rating | Genre: G,  royalty!au, angst, fluff

Summary: discontented with your pampered life, you decide to leave your kingdom and head to korea as a working-class woman to find someone who'd fall for you and not your riches. (A SPINOFF OF THE MOVIE 'COMING TO AMERICA' STARRING EDDIE MURPHY)

Prince of Barathrum @sugasbabiie​

Pairing:  Prince of Hell!Jungkook x Princess!Reader

Rating | Genre: R,  Smut, I sprinkled a bit of fluff, fantasy, RoyaltyAU, oneshot/pwp

Summary:  The monster living under your bed is the prince of darkness. You should be crying out for the guards to remove him, not screaming his name underneath the moonlight for your entire kingdom to hear.

Luna Somnium @yutasgalaxy​

Pairing:  Prince!Namjoon x Greek Goddess!reader

Rating | Genre:  18+, fluff, smut, angst, greek gods au, royalty au, soulmates au

Summary:  You have a life where you are the goddess of the moon, running your chariots across the heavens with your beloved Namjoon. You rule the Moon Kingdom with him by your side, a peaceful world full of harmony and love. The only problem is, it all ends when you wake up.

If you have participated in the event and do not see your work listed, please dm one of the event planners or admins. 

Check out the post for the next event “Jimin’s Carnival Of Horrors”

[evafrechette]

With A Little Help From My Hyung

↠ yoongi x seokjin | smut | friends to lovers, slow burn | 18+ | 2.4k

↠ Summary: Seokjin is the best roommate Yoongi could have asked for, he’s funny, respectful, a good cook and incredibly handsome. That’s a big problem though - because Yoongi has a constant boner over him.

↠ Warnings: eventual smut, drama queen yoongi, oblivious seokjin, blowjobs, standing sex, yoongi enjoys seokjin carrying him around, anal sex, yoongi is clumsy and hurts himself, which is a great excuse to have seokjin look after him, the other members make a small appearance, my fic usually has a few swear words, hyung kink???

"Hyung, stop it. Leave me alone." Yoongi's deep voice grumbled defiantly.

"Aish, quit being a baby Yoongi-yah, let me help." Seokjin held his hand out to the smaller man who sat on the cold concrete ground below him, food scattered around his aching body, tangerines rolling down the sidewalk.

Yoongi slapped away Seokjin's hand, scowling at his annoying roommate. He got onto his knees and attempted to stand, wincing in pain the moment he put pressure onto his left foot. Only moments before he and Seokjin had left the convenience store, arms full of energy drinks, jelly candy, ramen and tangerines. But Yoongi being Yoongi was busy in his own world and didn't notice the patch of ice on the footpath right in front of him, once his foot touched the slippery ice he slipped and wobbled about, struggling to balance before his legs came out from under him, falling directly onto his ass. Paper bag flying out of his grip, contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

He tried to stand again, taking his time as he clung onto Seokjin's arm, managing to get himself upright, left foot hovering above the ground, but when he placed it firmly against the sidewalk pain shot up his leg and he suddenly felt faint. "Shit, I think it's broken Hyung." He looked up into Seokjin's eyes, refusing to let the tears spill. Yoongi was in pain, a lot of fucking pain but he couldn't let his hyung see him be a cry baby.

"You hit the ground hard but it's probably just a sprain or something, I doubt it's broken. You're a real drama queen Min Yoongi. Can you stand by yourself for a bit?" Yoongi nodded in reply and let go of the elders arm, watching as he carefully rushed around picking up the spilled food and shoved it into his own bag. Seokjin walked back to Yoongi, spinning around so his back faced the man. He crouched down, holding the overfilled paper bag tight against his chest. "Jump on Yoongi-ah, and don't even try it with me. I'm your Hyung you have to listen to me."

Yoongi rolled his eyes but slowly hobbled over to his taller roommate, awkwardly jumping onto his back, arms wrapping around Seokjin's neck, and his short legs around his waist when the older man stood. "I don't have to listen to shit." He mumbled into Seokjin's messy brown hair. Seokjin let out his trademark high pitched laugh as he carried his injured roommate back towards their apartment, "You're so full of it Yoongi."

The walk would usually only take five minutes, but carrying a grown man (who enjoyed complaining every few minutes) had a part in the trip taking close to twenty. Yoongi laid his head on Seokjin's wide shoulders and enjoyed the way his oversized blue shirt smelled of a calming mix of lavender and vanilla bean, he took a mental note to check what brand of washing powder the man used when he got home.

Something about being carried on Seokjin's back made Yoongi's belly flip, he had never felt so small and vulnerable in his life. He was the strong one of their group - the pit bull, small but tough, with an acid tongue that could make a grown man cry. But being carried around by his cute, tall, goofy roommate was actually kind of comforting, it felt nice to snuggle against his broad shoulders.

Yoongi could feel his cheeks heating up, he had been crushing on his video game loving roommate for a few months now. At first the blond thought they were just compatible roommates, respecting each others boundaries and privacy, they quickly became friends bonding over their love of cooking, but along the way Yoongi developed feelings. His eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than what was socially acceptable, sneakily scooching closer to his side on the couch while he watched Seokjin get annihilated playing video games and "accidentally" falling asleep during their movie marathon nights, head resting comfortably against Seokjin's shoulder. But Yoongi knew nothing would come of his little crush so he kept his feelings locked away and instead tried to focus on their good friendship instead.

Seokjin carefully placed Yoongi on the couch, pushing a cushion under his now swollen foot. He rushed off to Yoongi's room and returned with a blanket which he draped over the smaller man. With a happy hum he walked towards the kitchen and Yoongi watched with lovesick eyes as he put away their food shopping. Everytime Seokjin reached up for the top shelf his shirt would raise a little, giving Yoongi a glimpse of the tantalising caramel skin underneath. Yoongi longed to drag his calloused fingertips along that skin, to leave small kisses down Seokjin's spine, along his lower back and down over his firm ass. He sought to taste Seokjin, to feel his cock heavy on his tongue, to feel the burn of his cock stretching him out.

"Hey Yoongi are you okay?" A cool hand placed against his forehead brought Yoongi out of his Seokjin induced daze. His roommate was looking at him with fondness and concern, "Your cheeks are really red but you're not hot or anything. I thought maybe you were coming down with a fever." Yoongi knew he was even redder now, but he allowed himself to relax against the man's hand. He sighed when Seokjin withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bean bag on the floor. "Yeah, no I'm fine. Just a bit embarrassed about this." Yoongi waved his hand over his ankle.

"Aish, these things happen. Just have to be more careful. And Hyung is here to take care of you okay? Anything you need you let me know. Keep that boney ass of yours on the couch."

The pair spent the rest of the night watching a marathon of Law of the Jungle, empty containers of ramen and Kloud draft beer scattered across the coffee table. Yoongi as usual was unable to keep the snarky comments to himself, "Pfft look at them! Useless. I could survive on that island so much better than any of them." He quipped as a team of celebrities dived into the ocean to try to catch fish with just their hands.

"Errrr Yoongi-yah, did you forget that I had to carry your tiny ass home this evening? Your weak ankles wouldn't last a day on that show." Seokjin doubled over in laughter, clapping his hands loudly as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Jin-hyung," he scoffed, "Like you'd do any better."

"Pretty sure I'd do great on a show like this! You've seen me fishing Yoongi, I'm practically a professional at it now."

Yoongi groaned at this, Seokjin had dragged him out fishing more times than he could even count and he was nowhere near a professional level. The last time they went fishing together Seokjin didn't catch a single fish. He did manage to catch some seaweed and disintegrating plastic bag though.

Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and instead of fighting the feeling allowed himself to drift off to sleep, which wasn't hard as sleep was his favourite hobby after all. Yoongi was having a beautiful dream, he was being carried in Seokjin's strong arms as the brunette carried him along the golden hues of a sandy beach, gentle waves breaking along the shore splashing against Seokjin's bare feet. He mirrored Seokjin's smile as his Hyung looked down at him, carrying him bridal style while the breeze whispered sweetly around them both.

"Aish, Yoongi you are a pain in my ass, but you're kinda cute so it's okay I guess." His gummy smile widened at the sweet but slightly insulting words. "What are you smiling about you weirdo." Seokjin let out a small laugh.

Yoongi was confused, why was dream Seokjin insulting him? It took him a few seconds to realise that he was actually awake and that he was no longer asleep on the couch, but rather in the arms of his Hyung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let his body go slack against Seokjin's chest, adding a few very realistic soft snores for good measure. Yoongi felt his body fall gently against the cold mattress on his bed, shivering slightly at the loss of heat from Seokjin's warm body. A blanket was dragged up his body, before footsteps retreated out of the room and the door clicking shut quietly.

Yoongi's eyes widened once he was alone in the dark room, had he heard correct? Did Seokjin just call him cute? It took all his self control not to squeal like a teenage girl. He wiggled down the mattress, throwing the blankets over his head and snuggled into his soft pillows. That night Yoongi had the best sleep of his life, with a smile on his face and a hard cock in his pants.

-----

The following weekend Yoongi found himself squished between his friends Jungkook and Hoseok in the back seat of Jimin's tiny Hyundai Pony hatchback. Usher's 'U Remind Me' thumped out of the piss-poor and incredibly outdated sound system, tinny and grating on his ears. His friends, including Taehyung who was sitting in the passenger seat, were singing along at the top of their lungs, he threw his head back and groaned. Why did he get stuck with the loud idiots of their group? Yoongi peered through the windscreen, tall, shapely pine trees lined the dirt road they traveled along. Dust swirled around the car, a curtain of brown blocking the view of the car travelling behind them. The sky was dotted with grey clouds, slowly drifting across the sky hiding the sun, who was trying it's hardest to make an appearance.

The car full of friends pulled into a small gravel parking lot and climbed out of the stuffy vehicle. They watched as the trailing car pulled up beside them, excitedly chatting and joking around now that everyone had finally arrived. Today was Namjoon's choice of activity, one Yoongi was secretly dreading - Hiking. He cast a glance towards Seokjin who was dressed in a pair of black and white track suit pants, sneakers, wide brim bucket hat with drawcord and a fluffy cream jumper. He swallowed hard at the thought of wrapping his arms around Seokjin's waist and resting his head against his fleece covered chest. He looked so snuggly and warm and cute, yeah, really really cute.

Yoongi zoned out while the others planned their trek, his mind too focused on Seokjin's beautiful plush lips, enthralled by how his Hyung randomly pouted while he spoke, his plump bottom lip puffing out before returning back to normal. Yoongi found this habit of Seokjin's incredibly endearing and wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Or at just how crazy it was making Yoongi feel.

"Is everyone okay with the plan?" Namjoon asked, slipping away a map into the front pocket of his jacket. The group all spoke at once, loud and chaotic as usual. "Okay well let's go!"

The group trekked for a few hours, enjoying the challenging course. Up and down steep inclines, weaving through lush forest and snaking between narrow boulders that sat unsteadily on either side of their path. They eventually came across a small stream that separated the gravel path, Yoongi looked down at his feet and whined. "Do we have to go through that? I'm wearing brand new shoes." His nose scrunched as he caught sight of the shallow murky water he knew he would have to trudge through.

"Why would you wear new shoes on a hike Yoongi?" Hoseok laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. Yoongi glared at his friend, tempted to turn around and walk back to the car. Fuck nature.

"Don't worry about it Yoongi-yah, climb on." Seokjin smiled, bending down in front of Yoongi, memories of the previous weekend flooded Yoongi's thoughts. Without hesitation Yoongi climbed onto his back, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. He placed his chin into the crook of Seokjin's shoulder and sighed as herbal scented hair brushed across his nose.

"O-okay then, well errr let's get going then." Namjoon raised his eyebrow, the rest of the group watching quizzically as Seokjin happily carried Yoongi across the stream. They exchanged looks with each other, hushed whispers at what had just transpired, Yoongi knew the others would be talking, getting a piggy back ride was pretty out of character for him, but he was blissfully peaceful at that very moment. So fuck what anyone thought.

-----

Back at their apartment that night the pair settled into their usual routine of cheap ramen, beer and trashy kdramas on the television.

"Hey Hyung, thanks for picking me up today," Yoongi bit nervously into his thumbnail, a habit he struggled to free himself from, "You didn't need to . . Hobi was right though, those shoes cost $300 why did I choose to wear them today?" Yoongi knew exactly why - he was trying to look good for Seokjin. He had dashed out to a Camping and Fishing store after work to purchase an entirely new outfit for the day. He settled on a long sleeved yellow and green flannel shirt, khaki trousers and a blue and black fleece fila jacket. Plus those damn tramping boots that cost as much as his share of the rent.

Seokjin leaned in, inches away from Yoongi's face, breath catching in the back of his throat, heart hammering against his rib cage. "It was my pleasure," Seokjin grabbed Yoongi by the cheeks and pinched, jiggling the flushed skin between his thumb and index finger, "That's what a good Hyung does, helps their cry baby friends out." He laughed, letting go of Yoongi and plopping back down onto his side of the couch. Yoongi's hand shot up to his cheek, fingers brushing along his warm skin. Seokjin's touch felt amazing, electric sparks coursed through his body, Yoongi wanted those hands touching him in places that crossed the line from friends to lovers, those long fingers curling up inside of him brushing against his sweet sensitive spot, wrapped around his cock pumping him until it was too much to handle and he was screaming Seokjin's name while he spilled his release over his Hyungs hand.

Yoongi found it hard to concentrate on the television in front of him, eyes constantly drifting towards his roommate who looked amazing in a pair of grey shorts and loose white T-shirt, his feet curled up underneath him, strong thigh muscles catching Yoongi's attention. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes, Yoongi wasn't sure how much more of Seokjin he could deal with. He was the perfect roommate, but his desire to be fucked by the man was becoming an every minute of the day kinda thing. Maybe Yoongi needed to hurry up and move out. He thought about Seokjin at work, while doing his laundry, on the bus to the grocery store, while putting the rubbish out, when pumping his dildo in and out of his ass, Seokjin was on his mind 24/7.

Yoongi's cock twitched as he watched the couple on television, the male lead carrying the female through a cherry blossom lined park while a terrible ballad wailed in the background. He decided that being carried was his newest kink. Or maybe Seokjin's entire existence was his fetish? He tugged on his hoop earring as his thoughts travelled to a million different scenarios in which Seokjin would need to lift and carry him around. He recalled the previous weekend, waking up while Seokjin carried him to bed, how nice it felt to be held in Seokjin's arms, to hear him call Yoongi cute. He wanted, no he needed that again.

Yoongi glanced out of the corner of his eye, the brunette’s head was down as he browsed at something on his phone, he watered his lips and decided now was the perfect time to enact his master plan. Yoongi closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn, arms stretched high above his head, "Mmmm what's the time?" He asked Seokjin drowsily. "Huh? Oh it's  9:23, are you tired already?" The brunette placed his phone on the coffee table and shifted to face Yoongi. "You're not? We walked a million miles today, of course I'm tired." For theatrics he let out another yawn. Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Guess I've got a better stamina than you."

Over the next half an hour Yoongi let out more fake yawns, complaining about his sore muscles and tired bones - which Seokjin informed him wasn't a real thing and that he was being a whiny old man again. His body sunk into the couch, head lolling against the arm rest as he feigned falling asleep. It would only be a matter of time before he would be whisked away in Seokjin's arms and it was making him giddy, trying his hardest not to crack a smile. Yoongi heard the room fall silent, the television now switched off. His heart was racing, this was it - the big moment - his hands were softly shaking, breath uneven and shallow.

"Hey Yoongi, wake up." A large hand shook his arm attempting to wake him from his faux slumber. His eyebrows furrowed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Seokjin was supposed to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom, whisper a few sweet words in his ear and maybe jerk him off a bit. He opened his eyes and glared at the handsome man standing over him, his plans were ruined and he and his neglected cock were pretty pissed off.

"Why didn't you just carry me Hyung?" Yoongi sulked, crossing his arms against his chest like a defiant toddler.

"W-why would I? You can walk your legs aren't broken."

"Well you've been carrying me around a lot recently so I just thought you'd do it again tonight. Ahhh fuck it whatever." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Aish, Yoongi-yah do you enjoy Seokjinnie lifting you up and carrying you around?" He could no longer hold it in, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Yoongi's cheeks burnt bright red, he was already a small man but he had never felt as small as he did right at this moment. Tears threatened to spill over his long lashes, he knew he was being a little dramatic but his heart was practically ripped out of his chest by his crush. Yoongi bowed his head refusing to look anywhere other than at his hands which were clasped together tightly.

"Wait, shit Yoongi I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry," Seokjin dropped down onto his knees and engulfed Yoongi's hands with his own. "So you do enjoy being carried by me?"

Yoongi sniffed, "Yeah. I like a lot about you Hyung, the carrying thing is one of my favourites though."

An awkward silence filled the room, Yoongi's sniffles the only sound to break the dead air. "Well uh, there is a lot I like about you too," he stroked his thumb against the back of Yoongi's hand softly and slowly. "I like your dry sense of humor, the way you screech when you're excited - that is so adorable. I like how passionate you are about music and I really like how your cheeks turn red whenever we touch each other by accident. I sorta brush up against you on purpose just to see it."

A gasp escaped Yoongi's lips, head snapping up to look into the dark chocolate eyes of his roommate. Seokjin's cheeks puffed wide as he gave Yoongi a sweet smile, his thumb continuing to draw circles over Yoongi's hands which were resting in his lap. "I think you're cute Yoongi-yah, and I'd love to kiss you. If you'd allow me to of course."

Yoongi's eyes darted to Seokjin's plump lips, inviting and glistening. He couldn't hold back any longer, throwing himself forward as he smashed their lips together, hungry and desperate. In the wild rush of lips and tongues exploring new territory their noses bumped together, deep chuckles slipping out between kisses. Yoongi's hands frantically grasped onto Seokjin's hair, pulling him down so their body's were close but it still wasn't enough, he needed to feel naked flesh against his own. Yoongi's long fingers travelled underneath Seokjin's thin cotton T-shirt and brushed against his soft stomach, over his nipples rubbing the hard nubs between his fingers and then back down his chest. He played with the elastic waist of Seokjin's shorts, dipping his hand inside, fingers grazing the wiry mound of pubic hair just above where his hands really wanted to touch, "I-is this okay Hyungie?" Yoongi whimpered, Seokjin's tongue running along the exposed skin of his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin.

"Mmmm yeah, touch Hyung Yoongi." Seokjin bit down gently his teeth scraping the skin. He attached his lips against the smaller man's neck, alternating between sucking on the warm flesh and sly little nibbles, creating deep purple bruises that contrasted beautifully against Yoongi's pale skin. While Seokjin was busy marking his neck, Yoongi pulled his cock out of the shorts and stroked sensually up and down his length, which was growing harder and stiffer in his hand. His hand glided over Seokjin's length at a quickening pace, flicking his wrists and gripping tight around the head before pulling off and pumping again. Yoongi added another hand on Seokjin's shaft and slowly twisted in opposite directions, up then down, left then right.  His fingers played with the tip of his cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, stroking playfully over the head.

"Fuck your cock feels amazing Hyung," Yoongi sighed, Seokjin's cock pulsing in his grip, "C-can we fuck?"

Seokjin removed his swollen lips from Yoongi's neck with a 'pop' and took his time licking along the already fucked out man's lips, pressing their soft flesh against each other, gentle kisses that were in in opposition of the acceleration of Yoongi's heart beat. Seokjin sat between Yoongi's legs on the floor, hands roaming over the blonds thighs. When he reached Yoongi's crotch his fingers ghosted over Yoongi's hard cock visible through his sweats, he bucked his hips desperate for Seokjin's touch.

"Hyung's got you Yoongi, just sit back and relax hmmm?" He placed a sloppy wet kiss against the fleece material and helped pull them down to Yoongi's ankles. "Such a pretty cock Yoongi-yah." Seokjin's voice was smooth and sweet. His fingers grazed against Yoongi's balls, eyes flicking back up to watch Yoongi's reaction. He continued to massage his sack, pulling lightly and wiggling the weight in his hand. He rubbed his cheek along the soft skin of Yoongi's balls and then up and down his incredibly hard shaft. Tongue flicking out to leave small licks along the side, down to his balls and then further below to the sweet spot between Yoongi's balls and warm inviting hole.

Yoongi's slit was leaking precum so Seokjin lapped it up, moaning sinfully. A groaned escaped the back of Yoongi's throat when Seokjin took his balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing all over. He took his time enjoying their heat in his mouth. He stroked the blonds length while sucking the pale skin of Yoongi's inner thighs. Seokjin sat back and removed he and Yoongi's bottoms completely, throwing the pants into a small pile in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for Yoongi to stand with him. Their lips crashed against another's once more, Yoongi standing on his tippy toes to match his Hyungs height. A knee slipped between Yoongi's thighs as the two men continued to taste and explore each others mouths.

"Shit, we need lube, uhhh, don't move Yoongi-yah! I'll be back quickly." Seokjin ran towards his bedroom leaving Yoongi standing naked from the waist down in their living room, cock red and hot. He gripped onto the base and squeezed tight, moaning at his own touch. Seokjin returned cock glistening from the lube, bouncing with every step. Yoongi gulped, Seokjin was longer than any cock his ass had taken before but god was he eager to have it inside him.

They kissed passionately while Seokjin fingered Yoongi's hole, stretching him open enough for his cock. Yoongi's mind had turned to mush, absolutely lost in the moment. It was as though Seokjin had flicked a switch in his ass to become a whimpering, whining mess. Seokjin bent his knees and using his right hand guided his cock into Yoongi's tight hole. Once inside he allowed Yoongi to get used to his size while his hands reached out to wrap around Yoongi's small waist. Without warning he lifted Yoongi, a squeak echoing in the silent room. "You are adorable Yoongi-yah, can't wait to hear more noises come from those pretty lips." Yoongi's legs wrapped around Seokjin's waist which readjusted their position, cock now deeper than before, big hands reached down to Yoongi's ass holding him in place as they walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

Yoongi held on tight, gripping onto strong shoulders as he was pushed against the wall with a thud. Seokjin's arms trembled from Yoongi’s weight so he started to pound into his ass before it was too much and he would have to let him go. Yoongi let out tiny pants and whimpers, eyelids half closed, mouth so slack drool was starting to drip from the corners. Seokjin's cock grazed over his prostate, hitting deep and hard with every thrust. "Hyung, hy-hyung ahh ah so good." His hands roamed over Seokjin's back leaving red and pink marks underneath the thin material of his shirt. His cock was trapped between their bodies, friction from their movements driving him insane.

Sweat dripped down Seokjin's face, his arms close to giving out. This was more intense than any workout his personal trainer at the gym had given him. He slammed his cock into Yoongi repeatedly eager to cum inside his ass. Yoongi's whimpers in his ear pushed Seokjin to his peak and exploded his white hot cum into Yoongi's warm hole.

They stood still while Seokjin caught his breath, Yoongi hanging onto his neck for dear life, almost as though the floor was lava. "Hyungie make me come, pleaseeeee I'm so close." Yoongi whined, nipping at Seokjin's lips then pouting against the plush flesh. He would rather be dead than admit it, but Seokjin was right - he was a bit of a drama queen. "I'll have to put you down though, I think my arms are about to fall off." Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi detached his legs from around the brunette's waist and placed them on the floor.

Seokjin reached down and gripped tight onto Yoongi's aching cock, moving his hand in a steady rhythm. Their foreheads touched, breathing in each others air, hushed pants and whimpers shared between the pair as they kiss messily, lips grazing chins and teeth clinking. Yoongi bucked into Seokjin's grip, incredibly close to his high. Seokjin's cum escaping slowly out of his hole and running down his creamy white thighs and the hand around his cock pushed Yoongi to his release, "Ah-ah Hyung don't stop, ahh I'm going to come, shit ahh." His body tensed as he came harder than ever before, Seokjin barely moving his hand as his cock throbbed and pulsated.

"Hyung, you have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen." Yoongi sighed, wrapping his hands around Seokjin's neck, fingers crawling their way up to thread through short dark hair. "I've wanted to do that since the day I moved in," Seokjin whispered in reply, ears turning crimson, "Come on let's get cleaned up and then cuddle."

-----

The pair made their way into Seokjin's bed, snuggled between a mess of cushions and soft toys, their limbs a tangled mess as impatient hands explored naked skin. They laughed as revelations of their feelings for each other were finally said out loud, cheeks tight and sore from smiling so hard. "Seokjin-hyung can we do this more often?" Yoongi's eyes avoided the naked man beside him focusing on the window pane instead. "Well I would hope so since I want to make your my boyfriend Yoongi-yah." Fingers caught hold of Yoongi's chin as his face was guided towards Seokjin's, a shy kiss planted on his lips. "Yes Hyung, fuck yes I'll be your boyfriend."

The roommates turned lovers drifted off to sleep that night with satisfied smiles on their faces, excited for what the future would hold for them both.

[xlovelyyoongix]

happy birthday | myg

♥ summary: When a birthday foot massage turns into something a bit more interesting 18+ ( established relationship) 

♥ paring: slight dom yoongi! x f. sub reader (established relationship)

♥ warnings: SMUT! swearing, female receiving, multiple orgasms , over stimulation, creampie, squirting and use of a sex toy.

♥ a/n: Not gonna lie I wrote this for myself on my birthday because I’m such a simp for Min Yoongi. Also, I apologize that this post is a day late. I watched Day 1 and Day 2 of the MOTS 7 concert and I was so sleep deprived so please forgive me. Enjoy! Feedback is welcome!  

You always hated being the center of attention, in a room full of crowded bodies with all eyes on you was never your forte. So, when you explained to your boyfriend of 2 years that you wanted a simple celebration of your birthday, he promised you just that. Your special day consisted of breakfast in bed, shopping, a movie, and dinner at your favorite restaurant. To others, a birthday spent like such would be considered a boring one, but for you, a day spent with Yoongi by your side was perfect.

"This was such a fun day!" Your exhausted body pushed through the door for your apartment, dropping your shopping bags on the living room table. "I'm beat!" Kicking off your shoes, your body collapses on the couch, releasing a heavy breath as your lashes flutter shut to relax.

Yoongi closes the door behind him, chuckling at your animated demeanor. "I'm glad you had a great time,__" Before anything else, Yoongi escaped into the back room, only to reemerge with a few items in his hands, an eager smile stretched across his face. "But it's not over yet."

Your lips curve in question, "Huh?" and the moment your eyes blink open, a romantic flickering of dim orange light begins to dance across the apartment walls along with the soothing scent of lavender. Your brows crinkle together, dimples digging into your cheeks upon realizing, Yoongi lit your favorite scented candle. "What's this about?" You pull yourself up with a toothy grin in observance of the scene before you.  

A twinkle of delight shimmers within Yoongi's onyx orbs, taking a seat on the carpet between your legs. "Your last gift of the day." His proud gummy smile gleaming up at you.

It wasn't until Yoongi gently placed your foot onto his lap, removing your socks, that you realized what he was doing. Your cheeks lighten with an innocent hue as his long fingers brush against your tiny toes. "Y-Yoon?" You question, with a rapid heart beat.

"Hm?" He questions, pulling a bottle of oil out of the silk bag only to pour a modest amount into his hand. "You act like I've never touched you before,__" His hooded eyes dart up at you, though only for a second before talented fingers are massaging the warming oil into the balls, arch, and toes of your foot.

"Mhm..." A small moan vibrates from the back of your throat, the newly found pleasure rippling throughout your being, practically melting your body into the sofa. "Feels good~" You purr.

Yoongi takes pride in the blissful expression plastered across your face. "I'm happy you're enjoying yourself." Voice music to your ears as his fingers work between your toes, ankle, and back up the sole of your foot. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

"Okay." Your lashes flutter shut, body loosening up as the soothing scent of lavender sways within your nostrils. Yoongi, being skillful with his hands, takes his time and massages all the spots you seem to like most. He doesn't speak, merely allowing you to fully embrace your very own euphoria.

You're unable to recall a time your body experienced this type of tranquility; with work and school swallowing your livelihood, you're surprised you're able to even manage a relationship with your hectic schedule. Always a paper due, an extra shift that needed to be worked. There were times you barely even had time to sleep...

"SLEEP?!" Realizing your body was a bit too tranquil enough to doze off, your back arches off the couch, frantic eyes darting across the room in search of your boyfriend. Had it already been that long he chose to leave for the night? "Yoongi?"

"Don't worry, you weren't asleep for too long." A teasing smirk pulls across his full cheeks, taking a seat on the floor between your legs again. "Had to wash my hands and get your other present." Unlike before, his demeanor changed. His hooded eyes, a shade darker than normal, tongue lapping across his bottom lip, along with a seductive arched brow. Surely, Yoongi was up to something.

"I thought the foot massage was my last gift." Your head tilts with confusion.

Yoongi chuckles at your obliviousness, placing a pink rectangular box on your lap. "This is just the other part of your present." He nudges you to open it.

You sport Yoongi an -what are you up to- expression, only for your curiosity to become interrupted by the heaviness of the box. What else could he possibly be gifting you with after a day of shopping and dinner? "Okay." Your fingers slowly unravel the bow, careful with removing the lid. The moment your eyes make contact with what's inside, your jaw drops in awe at the objects.

"I saw you googling them a few weeks back. I figured I'd get the set for you." There's a moment of hesitation in Yoongi's tone, your silence instantly forcing him to contemplate his gift. "I-It is what you wanted,.. right?"

Your eyes bounce back to your blonde-haired boyfriend, noticing the doubt trickling across his expression. "Yes, Yoongi, it is!" You praise, heart fluttering that your boyfriend paid that much attention to notice your personal interests. "Thank you so much!" It was a set of 3 clear glass dildos, all shape and length in different sizes, with adorable pink, heart-shaped handles at the end.  

Regaining his confidence, his blond head slips between your legs, lips ghosting over the sensitive spots of your inner thighs. “Ya, know..." Mint breath slapping across your skin, causing a delightful shiver up your spine. "We can test them out right now if you want." His jet eyes cutting dangerously at you before placing a kiss on the spot that causes your abdomen to tense deliciously.  

With the tempting look in Yoongi's eyes and the grip he has on your thighs, your body heats with desire, feminine core throbbing against the now annoying material of your panties. "I-I mean..." You swallow hard, attempting to catch your staggered breath. "D-do you want to?"

A dimple forms in the crevice of Yoongi's cheeks, snickering at your timid question. "Of course I want to, kitten..." He purrs, fingers working to unbuttoning the metal of your jean shorts. "But today isn't about me, is it?" dark eyes rolling up to you while the echo of your zipper tauntingly fills the room.

If you blinked, you would have missed the dark, carnal switch that happened deep within Yoongi's eyes. Clearly, he was ready for whatever the night had in store. You gulp, "No," You answer back modestly but also notice the rising heat growing between your thighs. "It's about me tonight." You answer back with a nod, slightly more confident than last.

Yoongi snickers devilishly at your reply. "Yes, it is." He pulls at your jean shorts, helping you shimmy out of them. Yoongi gestures at your shirt with a tempting bite of his lip only for it to disappear behind you a second later, leaving your body in nothing but a black bra and panties set.

Your boyfriend takes in the magnificent sight of your hair framing around your adorable cheeks, romantic flames of candlelight across your skin and eyes, and your practically nude body that lit a hungry flame within his core. "Fuck..." Unable to hold back any longer, Yoongi lunges forward, harshly gripping onto your thighs as if to hold you in place while his plush lips place rough kisses and love bites along the innards of your thigh.  

"Mhm, Yoon..." Your hips stutter forward, a zap of electricity zipping up your spine, awakening your body with a fevering heat.

As Yoongi's tongue laps across the sensitive parts of your inner thigh, his sneaky index hooks onto the wetness of your panties, slowly sliding down the flimsy fabric before tossing them over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. "Hope you're ready for your gift." His tone holding velvety dominance as his lust-filled eyes peer up at you.

Before you could even mutter a response, Yoongi's crafty tongue laps across your throbbing slit, hands spreading your thighs open for better access. You release a whimper, and the moment his lips latch onto your pulsing clit, your hips snap forward, tongue slipping and sliding between your folds, leaving you a stuttering mess.

Taking his time, Yoongi lapped figure eights around your sensitive nub, large hands cupping at your ass cheeks, sliding you forward into his mouth. "You taste so good, kitten." Words vibrating against your delicate flesh as he spoke.

Even with his tongue moving so deliciously between your slit, body floating into cloud nine, the flame burning inside of you craved more. "S-so good b-but...please~" your walls clenching around nothing in dire need to be stretched. "Inside~." You mewl with a needy wiggle to the edge of the couch.  

Yoongi cocks a brow, peeking up at you while working your marvelous wet pussy. "You can't wait anymore, can you." He teases with a confident chuckle. "Your pussy is always so needy for attention." He cheekily mutters, slowly slipping two long digits into the slick of your folds.

"Fuck!" You yelp at the instant pleasure of Yoongi’s curving fingers locate the spongy surface of your inner walls. Back arching off the couch only to roll deeper into Yoongi's thrusts and tongue. "So good..." Managing past the dryness of your throat to whimper.

Yoongi's fingers pump in and out of your gushy slit with ease, tongue attacking your clit for maximum effect. "I want you to cum." the curve of his digits jabbing at your g-spot. You whimper a moan, walls tightening around his knuckles, sending waves of pleasure through your core. "I want your pretty pussy to cum all over my face, kitten."

Feeling your orgasm quickly approaching, the pit of your abdomen tightens in a knot, tight pussy swallowing long fingers, teasing at your approaching release. "Y-Yoongi..." You pant, fog of tears swelling at the corners of your eyes, cheeks a misty hue with thighs opening as wide as humanly possible for your boyfriend's assault on your pussy. "G-gonna cum.... Uughh." Your fingers thread through Yoongi's blonde tresses with a yank, guiding the male's mouth all the places you need him most.    

Yoongi snickers at the aggression you have with his hair but doesn't let up. Feeling your soaking muscles clenching around his digits, your fucked out expression says it all, that you're ready to burst at any given moment. "Be a good girl," His fingers pick up their pace, assaulting the sweet spots of your insides at devilish speeds. "and cum for me."

As if on-demand, the tight knot built in the pit of your abdomen finally bursts, sending your body into an eruption of pleasure. "FUCK!" Your back arches off the couch, vision clouded with an assortment of colors, legs collapsing into jelly, as your sopping pussy leaks creamy arousal.

Plunging from the high of your orgasm, your exhausted body plops back onto the sofa, glistening sweat built across your brow with lungs heaving for breath. "So good." You murmur with what little strength you have left.

Yoongi snickers at your weakened expression. "We're not done yet,__" His words are sly as he opens the birthday box that contains a multitude of glass pleasure wands. "Which one should I use on you first?" He takes a second to observe, index tapping his chin in thought. "Got it." Picking out the wand, he knew would send you over the edge.

"H-huh?" Before you could comprehend what was happening, a sudden stretching of something strong and firm slips inside you. "Hmhmm." Your body awakens again, teeth digging into the bottom of your lip as your hips unknowingly roll forward, allowing the glass dildo to plug into your soaking slit.

"You almost forgot about this, didn't you?" Yoongi grins devilishly, the deep ridges of the wand satisfying your greedy entrance.

Your body shutters with delight at the feeling, lashes fluttering as your neck rolls back. With your body still processing the high of your first orgasm, you feel a new wave of arousal collapse over you. "You wanna make me cum again, Yoongi~?" Your once shy innocence, now engulfed by the sparks of lust dancing within your hazed eyes.

Yoongi wiggles a brow at your confidence. "You know it, kitten," he answers back almost too quickly. "Let's see what this thing can do." And without the need for direction, Yoongi slips the rigid object back into the hilt of your core, tilting at just the right angle.

"Shiiiiiit." Yoongi picks up his speed, your ass cheeks bouncing on the glass dildo as he rams it in and out as if it were his profession. Your walls take a liking to the newly discovered object, aroused and clutching tightly around the ridged glass, welcoming it deep within your pussy like the slut it was.

Being the generous pussy eater that he was, Yoongi positioned his mouth against your overwhelming heat once again, plush lips latching onto the sensitive nub, nibbling and sucking all the while thrusting your new favorite toy into your shameful entrance.  

A new wave of pleasure zaps through you. "F-fuck, Yoon!" Unapologetically, you grab at your boyfriend's blonde hair, pulling and yanking at the tresses as if your life depended on it. Your brows furrowed together and teeth tugging at your bruised lips as your foggy gaze peers between your legs at the man feasting upon you as if he were starving. "Yoongi, s-so good." Your neck rolls, the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns, threatening to rupture your release.

Your pussy is gushing, sending streams of milky arousal down the shaft of the dildo and onto Yoongi's glistening chin. Even though he couldn't feel your muscles tightening within you, he knew you were reaching the peak of your second orgasm; your words slurred, legs shaking uncontrollably along with the death grip you had on his hair. Yoongi smirks, your incoherent and shaken state, stroking his ego.

Your body uncontrollably humps into Yoongi's mouth, hips matching the rhythm of the glass wand slamming into the wall of your cervix, hitting all the spots you need it most. "P-please..." You're a whimpering mess. "Baby, m-make me cum again...wanna so bad..." Addicted to the taste of release, you plea your boyfriend to fuck another orgasm out of you like that dirty whore that you were.

More than happy to oblige your request, Yoongi stiffens his tongue, lapping over your glistening clitoris at record speed while your soaked pussy sucks in the rigid wand. "Cum,__" He orders with a stern tone.  

As if Yoongi's voice was the switch to your light, the tightness within your abdomen snaps on queue. "Shit!" You're crying out again, white noise clogging the tunnels of your ears as your vision fogs with an explosion of different colors. Your lashes flutter the tears from your eyes all the while attempting to catch your staggering breath as the second orgasm pulls from your body. "W-wow,..." Your nearly horse voice stutters out. "T-that was great I-"

The moment your glossy orbs stutter open, you're immediately met with an immaculate sight. It was none other than Yoongi standing proudly naked before you. Smooth, ivory skin that seemed to glow under the romantic candlelight. A hard chest that sculpted into a lean abdomen, showcasing a happy trail of hair leading down to the object you desired most to see. "We're still not done, kitten," Yoongi smirks devilishly, gripping at the base of his thick shaft, standing proudly.

You gulp, the curve of his impressive dick bobbing against his lower abdomen, thick veins protruding from the sides of its girthy shaft. Hungry, Your eyes follow up to the summit of it's red, angry tip, slit oozing delicious pre-cum. You lick your lips at the sight, aroused walls clenching around nothing.  

Yoongi stands over you, stroking his monstrous dick with a bit of dominance. While he patiently took care of the needs and desires of your body, Yoongi's dick grew angry and more impatient against the fabric of his boxers. Finally freed, it was more than ready to plug deep into the warm, wet sleeve of your walls. "Tell me what you want, kitten." Yoongi's voice dipping an ungodly tone.

"I-I..." You know precisely what you want, for your boyfriend to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk in the morning. The heat and slick of your previous orgasms, still fresh between your legs, ready to be put to good use, but you wonder if your body can take it—the anxious build-up of another orgasm. You swallow hard at the thought, eyes faced with the perfectly crafted perfection, which was Yoongi's hard dick, a erection you didn't want to go to waste. "I w-want." Your eyes flicker back up at Yoongi, shimmering orbs glowing with desire and lust. "I want you to fuck me, Yoongi." Your voice, dripping with confidence.

Leaving no time for his response, Yoongi pens your legs back with a growl, using his free hand to align his angry tip to the soak of your heated entrance. His hooded eyes cut to you, giving one final look, "Happy birthday, kitten." and as quickly as the words fell from his lips, Yoongi sends his hips soaring forward, plugging his dick deep within your walls as if he were a missing piece to your puzzle  

You wince at the sting of his stretch, girth unmatched to any finger or sex toy that could be purchased. "Yoongi~" Due to the multiple orgasms your body endured, the stretch of your entrance was met with a tasteful mix of pain and pleasure. Your orbs slamming shut, releasing a stream of lovely tears from the corners of your eyes.  

"Fuck your so tight." Yoongi grunts, gripping onto your thighs as if to hold you both in place. "So fuckin' wet." He leans in, his button nose ghosting over yours as his lustful jet eyes peer into your glossed orbs. "My perfect peach." It was then his lips forced onto yours, tongue dancing within your mouth to give you the sweet taste of your arousal.

You moan into Yoongi's mouth, welcoming the taste of your own pussy as thick thrusts pump into your core. "S-so good." You're a whimpering mess, hips rutting forward as the song of slapping skin echoes throughout the living room.

Typically, Yoongi was slow and patient when making love to you, but something about watching your pussy orgasm and your lips moaning his name awakened a carnal side of him, hidden deep within his psyche. "Sorry, I'm so rough...mhm." Yoongi grunts, eyes rolling while your juicy walls hug around his hostile dick.  

"I-its okay..." Your fingers grip onto Yoongi's shoulder blades, nails digging into his flesh as he pounded into the spot that made you see stars. "Fuck, just don't stop." Your walls begin to clutch around him, along with the tight build-up of the familiar knot in your abdomen; however, this time is different. A pressure building behind the structure of your pubic bone that you desperately want to find the reason behind. "Y-Yoongi...." Somehow your release feels out of reach "I-I don't think I-I c-can." You whimper, feeling as though your maximum peak was untenable.  

"Y-yes, you can, kitten." Yoongi huffs out, placing kissing and love bits along the lobe of your ear and the curve of your neck. "Cum for me again." Knowing exactly what would bring you over the edge, Yoongi snakes his arm between the two of your sweaty bodies, fingers locating the ball of your clitoris, slowly swiping across the needy nub before attacking with rougher speeds

"Naha!" An electric jolt zips throughout your body, causing your back to arch off the couch. Your senses are on fire. The sweat dripping down your flesh, Yoongi's breath puffing into the shell of your ear, skin rubbing against one another as his thick dick takes you savagely. Was there ever a better feeling than this?

Like a volcano about to erupt, your body begins to shake, unholy moans screeching from your throat, as the knot in the pit of your abdomen becomes incredibly tighter as a sudden urge to pee spikes. "F-fuck Yoon, I... I-I t-think I'm gonna..." And just like that, the build-up inside you snaps, an explosion stronger than ever before. "Fuck!" Your soaking pink muscles push out, liquid squirting out like a waterfall as colors of red, purple and blue, fog your blissful vision, body going limp    

Your warm wetness sprays across Yoongi's pelvis, lines of pearling liquid trickling down his flesh. "Kitten, did you just...?" He silent for a moment upon realizing what exactly just happened. You squirted, the evidence of your unholy release trickling to Yoongi's shaft, still plugged into you. "So. Fuckin. Hot!" The carnal need to release overpowers Yoongi, large hands grabbing hold of your hips, and he snaps his thrusts at record speed. With your walls sucking in Yoongi's girth, the tease of release trickled throughout his body. "F-Fuck, kitten, gonna..." He releases a throaty grunt. "Shit!" One final thrust and he was over the edge, ropes of semen coating your insides like a painter, his canvas.

For a moment, Yoongi's body is in tranquil bliss, limply plummeting onto the couch to lay beside you. The two of your eyes following the shadows of candle-light  flames dancing around the walls as you gasp for air. "Wow." Yoongi snickers with a toothy grin. "I can't believe you squirted." He comments proudly.

You giggle. "I didn't even know I could do that." Responding between breaths.

"Well, know that I know how to make you squirt," Yoongi pulls you into his chest, fingers caressing your hair as he places a kiss atop of your glistening forehead. "I'll be sure to fuck that glass dildo into you more often." His lips pull into a smile while taking in the beautiful sight, which was you... "Happy Birthday, __."

a/n: this is the first time I’ve posted a smut that is this detailed. So, if you have  any pointers or recommendations on how I can improve, please don’t hesitant to reach out. Thanks for reading! ♥

[dramatically-anime]

Mental Health & Monsters | Sweet Home

What Up Nerds?!

I’m here today with a blog on the Korean Drama Sweet Home. This is an in-depth analysis on how the drama portrays mental health!

I had started this drama when it released and I remember really liking it. I can’t really tell you why I stopped watching it. I stopped at about episode 2 or 3. I think it was just because I wasn’t in a good mind set at the time. Which is a theme for this blog! (If you couldn’t already tell by its title) This drama hit home in a way I didn’t think possible for a monster movie. It became a drama I related too and now hold very dear to my heart.

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Title: Sweet Home

Genre: Horror

Country: South Korea

Episodes: 10

Platform: Netflix

Release: December 18, 2020

Cast: Song Kang, Lee Jin-wook, Lee Si-young, Lee Do-hyun, Kim Nam-hee, Go Min-si, Park Gyu-young, Go Yoon-jung

Trailer:https://youtu.be/7rI56NmD33Y

Plot:

An epidemic begins to plague Korea that doesn’t seem to stop. No one knows it’s origins or how to stop it. People begin turning into monsters and killing off the population. Residing at the Green apartments take a stand in a way to survive. One teenager, Cha Hyun-su, is infected but hasn’t turned yet. Could he be the groups last hop of survival?

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*trigger warning: I am going to be talking about mental Heath and suicide. While it’s not graphic or totally in depth, if that’s something that triggers you, please feel free to skip this blog. I’ll see you in the next one.

*There is also a spoiler warning for those who haven’t watched it or haven’t finished watching.

This drama is a must see in my opinion. The way it handles mental illness is very creative and new for me. Portraying mental health in media is such a fine line. It’s hard to say what’s good representation and what’s bad. A lot of the times, however, it is shown on the bad spectrum. Then, most zombie movies are just outbreaks because some government decided it was nice to make a bio weapon. Or there’s just some random virus. But what’s happening here in Sweet Home is completely different.

Most of the time when we look at suicidal depression, we see stories that lead up to the suicide or are seeing the after affects of suicide. Shows like 13 reasons why are a good example. When a character shows up in the media that someone can relate to due to the illness they have and want to see a happy ending too, but in the end they just see them die. Or characters that are already dead and gone They are given this picture that there is no hope. That they are beyond saving. And when the portrayals of them are just painting them as a stain on society, what message does that send? Bringing light to these situations is important, but when they do more harm than good, what’s the point?

Cha Hyun-su is our light in the dark. He is a teen who is struggling hard with suicidal depression. With flashbacks we see that he was severely bullied and isolated from his classmates. This lead him to self harm and eventually isolate himself from the rest of the world. His parents are unaware of what’s going on, or choose not to care by how his father acts, and can’t seem to figure out why he became a recluse. One day he goes on a car trip with his family that only stared an argument. During which a truck hits the car and Hyun-Su becomes the sole survivor. He’s stricken with grief, but also holds some envy as he was not the one to die. His depression has many layers and isn’t cause by one sole incident.

When dealing with self harm in a show, most of the time we see it happen. Or it’s heavily referenced to the point of nausea. It basically becomes trauma porn. This drama, however, does this beautifully. His self harm is referenced. Every so often we see his scars and then in a school flash back we see him with a box cutter in the school bathroom. We know what he’s done, but it’s not overly shoved in our face. It’s tastefully done. One scene that really stands out is when he’s sitting down and his inner demon drags its hand over the scars. It’s using that as a tool to control him. And I think that was genius.

Speaking of inner self, the portrayal of the “monster” and the depression he holds is just an evil version of himself. The voice he hears and the image he sees is a black eyed version of himself. When we talk about inner demons it’s not some dark demented thing. Often times we look in the mirror and see someone different. We are fighting ourselves and this can’t be more true. I’m speaking from experience. You fight your own thoughts. This has been used in media before to represent illness, but it works. And for how this plot goes about explaining the illness, it kicks it up a notch.

Some of the monsters of the show are manifestations of peoples trauma and illness, but not all. Hyun-su keeps his “monster” at bay by talking to it. The evil version of himself tells him that he can give up and live as a monster, but Hyun-su didn’t call for it and stabs his reflection. This is the pivotal moment where Hyun-su reclaims his desire to live and find meaning. He doesn’t have some romanticized way of overcoming his depression. He fights for it and it takes him a while. The first step of his recovering was wanting to save the children. Then everything spiraled form there.

Something else that I want to touch on is the evolution of self harm. Most of the time when we think of self harm, it’s just cutting. Sweet Home goes a step further. We see Hyun-su jumping at the chance to be put in danger for the betterment of the group. He can’t really die and he just heals fast. So why not be the one to venture out. This becomes his way of giving his existence meaning, this another way to self harm. Wanting to make yourself useful to others is a form of depression as well. There is no set form of self harm or depression and this is something that the series should be praised on the depiction of multiple forms.

This is something that I can relate to as well. While I never cut myself or tried any form of suicide, I put my self at risk for the sake of others. I pushed through being extremely sick just to work because I knew we were short staffed. I took everything on at work and rarely asked for help. My health was already not the best due to the conditions that I had, but overworking myself and not stopping was doing the most harm. My blood pressure skyrocketed and I was so stressed that I didn’t know what to do. I became sicker, but I told myself that this was good. At least I wasn’t at home laying in bed and doing nothing with my life. I told myself this was my purpose. I never really took the time for me. It was always about work and other people. Being dedicated to something or someone can be good, but you also have to take care of yourself and realize when it’s destroying you. It took me a long while to realize that I had to step back and think of me. It took me until a few months ago for me to stand up for myself and start thinking of myself again.

What’s beautiful is that no one saves Hyun-su from his illness. No one is holding his hand and they don’t pitty him. It’s not done magically. He learns how to grow with it and live on. Eun-yu holds him accountable for his actions telling him that he got hurt because of his choices. This ain’t victim blaming. Hyun-Su has never stood up for himself, but he needs too. The first step to recovery is seeking help, which is something he hasn’t done. Both know that he resents being put in danger, but he doesn’t have the voice to say so.

Depression is something that I’ve been dealing with for quite some time. And it has varying reasons. While I had a support system in my family and some people that came and went, it wasn’t enough. Others can only do so much. I had to be the one to make the choice to get better. To keep going. To find the light I needed myself. There was no soulmate to pull me from the dark. No one to hold my hand. Hyun-su made his choice to keep going just like I did. He had a bit of tough love from Eun-Yu, but everything was his doing.

The drama ends beautifully with Hyun-su making the decision to live for both himself and his new family. He begins to give into his monster side as a way of accepting his pain and depression as part of him. He’s stopped by Du-Sik who tells him that it’s alright. The burden of people’s deaths is not his. His want to live creates something painfully beautiful.

It’s dramas like these that keep me coming back. It’s so easy to just see something for what it is on the surface. A zombie apocalypse drama in this case. But when we step back and try to see the messages it’s trying to convey and lessons it’s trying to teach, that’s when the true magic happens. And so often I think these are missed because we just want to see the next big drama. We build ourselves with all this hype and then get disappointed when we don’t think it meets expectations. We don’t take the time to pay attention and find the details that make it special.

So my homework to people who have made it this far in the blog. Watch a drama for what it is. Not for the hype. Step back and pay attention to the nuances of the drama. Find what it’s trying to tell you. It’ll help you appreciate the artwork in front of you more than if you were just watching for entertainment.

[ginatries]

Wrapping up 2021

Happy New Year! I can’t believe it’s already 2022.

There were so many good dramas in 2021, and I wanted to share a few of my favorites and recommendations for anyone who might be looking for their next drama to watch.

I just finished The Red Sleeve (옷소매 볽은 끝동) with 2PM’s Junho and Lee Se Young, and it was an amazing drama. Junho and Se Young have great chemistry together, and everything was so well written. Everything that was introduced in the beginning was referenced throughout the entire drama and tied out at the end. There was nothing that didn’t need to be there, which is rare for many dramas. So I expect this drama to be at top of my all-time favorite dramas. It’ll be fun to re-watch and analyze things I missed in the first watch.

With every historical drama (사극) though, I always wish for a reincarnation story, where we get to see them in the present time being happy. A good historical drama tends to have a very sad or bittersweet ending, which I love, but it would be nice if there was a follow up where we can see the leads happy and in love - just once? 🥺

Even so, I still love the angst and longing and the struggle that only historical dramas can provide.

Here are my highly recommended dramas from 2021:

Lovestruck In The City with Ji Chang Wook and Kim Ji Won (도시남녀의 사랑법) - this is the first drama I’ve gotten up at 4 am for. It has a mockumentary type story telling and shows the relationships of 4 different couples living in Seoul. My favorite couple was the main couple - Yoon Seon Ah, aka Lee Eun Oh, and Park Jae Won. I can relate to Lee Eun Oh, so I really loved her, even though she didn’t make the best decisions. I would definitely recommend for those who like the slice of life type shows.

Vincenzo with Song Joong Ki and Jeon Yeo Been (빈센조) - I’ve come to appreciate this drama even more after watching Form of Therapy’s reaction and breakdown of the show. It was really well written and the characters are so unique. It’s not often we get dramas with such a morally gray character like Vincenzo - he’s not a good guy, but he’s also not the bad guy, but he can do really bad things - in ways that are satisfying to watch. Jeon Yeo Been’s character, Hong Cha Young, is also very different from most female leads. She also falls into the realm of not good, but also not bad. Because of this, they are able to punish the truly evil people in ways that good people would not be able to. Highly recommended for those who enjoy action - there is a bit of romance, but it’s not the main focus, which I don’t mind for once.

Hospital Playlist (슬기로운 의사생활) - one of the few dramas that I can watch over and over again. It’s like an American TV show where we get a lot side stories and “cases”, but it has a certain feel to it that I can only get from Korean dramas. The 5 main characters were perfectly written and the actors who played them were perfectly casted. I can’t imagine anyone else who would be able to pull them off so well. Just a great show that shows how humans are when they are in some of their most vulnerable moments.

Hometown Cha Cha Cha with Shin Min Ah and Kim Seon Ho (갯마을 차차차) - another drama with a couple that has great chemistry. This drama was filled with so many cute and satisfying scenes, and the overall story was healing, just as the promotions for this drama had promised.

These next dramas, I would also recommend:

Youth of May (오월의 청춘) - a heartbreaking drama, but the love between the main couple is just *chef’s kiss*

18 Again (18 어게인) - I had to binge this for happiness after watching Youth of May, but great remake of the American movie, 17 again.

The Sword and the Brocade - this is a Chinese drama that I put off watching for a while because I didn’t think I would be interested. It got my attention after a few episodes though.

Mouse (마우스) - a great mystery, thriller, and action drama about serial killers and psychopaths. I watched this after the plot had already been spoiled for, but I still found it engaging even though I knew the ending to an extent.

And lastly, dramas I watched, but didn’t care much for:

Prison Playbook (슬기로운 감빵생활) - I gave this a watch because it was a similar production to Hospital Playlist and while I watched the entire series, I didn’t find the male lead to be very interesting so that made the show overall less enjoyable

True Beauty (여신강림) - I watched this for Moon Ga Young after seeing her in Find Me In Your Memory, and I enjoyed it in the first half, but because I really fell for the second male lead - Han Seo Jun - I got a little bitter towards the end when things got more serious between the main couple. I also started reading the webtoon that this was based off of and I felt that the drama didn’t include some of the aspects from the webtoon that made the story good and about more than just the romance. While I like having romance, I also want to see the female lead as more than just a girl who falls in love. It’s always better when she has more depth. Thank you for introducing me to Hwang In Yeop though 😍😍

2021 felt so long and so short at the same time. But I’m excited for the new year and all the new dramas that will be coming out!

[v-writings]

The benefits of trust Sequel to The troubles of miscommunication

Word Count: 8K+ Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader Summary: When you and Ned accidentally find out about Peter’s biggest secret, you and Peter have to deal with what that means for your relationship.  Rating: T Warnings: A few Homecoming spoilers. A/N: There’s no angst in this, I promise. Just fluff and Peter being cute as hell.

Hey, wanna head over to Peter’s so we can finish the death star?   Sure, just give me ten mins and come by my house?       K I’ll text you when I’m close

You block your phone and stretch your arms above your head, taking a deep breath. You were happily lounging on your couch while watching a movie but going over to Peter’s home with Ned is far better than what you had planned to do with your time. Besides, the last time you texted Peter was a few hours ago when you got out of school and he told you he had his internship to get to, and you miss him a little.

“Hey mom, I’m going with Ned to Peter’s in ten minutes.” You yell, walking towards your room to change into clothes a little less casual than your old yoga pants with a hole in them.

“Okay, text me if you’re gonna be home for dinner or not!” She yells back, and you respond with a noise you assume she knows means “yes”.

I’m one block away

Ned’s text comes in while you brush your teeth, and you rinse your mouth before replying to him.

I’ll be down in a sec

You grab your backpack which has your wallet and a hoodie inside, and put it on before walking to your mom’s room to tell her you’re leaving.

“Ned’s here, I’ll text you later.” You say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Or you text me if I forget.”

“I will, darling. Have fun.” She says, giving you a one-armed hug before going back to work on her laptop.

I’m already WAITING           I’m on the elevator, CHILL

You slide your phone inside your back pocket and sprint towards the front door of the building, where you can see Ned typing on his phone with one hand and holding the Death Star on the other before you feel you ass vibrating.

“I’m already here!” You yell as you open the door, rolling your eyes. “How long did you wait? Two and a half seconds?” You ask sarcastically, taking the Death Star from his hands as you start walking.

“It was three and a half, thank you.” He replies in the same tone, typing something on his phone before sliding it in his pocket. “I think we’re gonna finish it today.” He says excitedly, looking at the toy like it’s a work of art.

Well, to be fair, you think that in a way it is a work of art.

“Yeah, me too. We’re almost done.”

“You did most of the job, though.” He says with a small shrug, and you scoff in response.

“I did not. The two of us did. I just knew a little more than you because I already built mine before this.” You shake your head, even though you did do a lot of the work on this one. Before today, he’d forgotten it in your house and you may or may not have worked a little on it without his help.

“Sure, whatever.” He says dismissively, showing you very clearly that he thinks what you said is bullshit— which it is, actually.

“Hey, can you reach inside the pocket of my backpack? I want some gum.” You walk a little slower as Ned rummages through your belongings, until you hear the zipper closing again and resume your normal speed.

“His ass looks exactly like Peter’s?” You hear him ask from behind you, before he lets out a hearty laugh. “What is this?” You turn around immediately and find him with a piece of paper on his hands, a piece of paper he has no business reading. You practically stomp towards him and rip it from his hand.

“Rude.” You say, folding the paper and putting it on your pocket. “It’s just a list I made. None of your business.”

“Right.” Ned says, still laughing a little. “A list about how Spider-Man has the same ass as Peter?”

“It’s not about that!” You say, rightfully indignant. You made a list about the little details you picked up here and there about Spider-Man to maybe figure out who he could possibly be, and it just so happened that you made the tiny observation that he and Peter had the same ass. The other points were a lot more important, but of course Ned only focused on that one. “I’ve been trying to figure out who Spider-Man is. Along the way I just noticed that his ass looks like Peter’s and wrote it down. But the rest is very valid.”

“God.” Ned says, still laughing. You glare at him and he stops immediately. “Alright, fine. Fine. Sorry. What does the rest say?” You shrug your shoulders and look ahead.

“I don’t think you deserve to know.”

“I’m soooorry.” Ned whines exaggeratedly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I wanna know what the rest says. And I still have your gum.” He smiles and shows you the package on his hand, and you take it from his hand before he can react. “Had your gum.” He corrects himself. “Come on, I wanna know! I like Spider-Man too! Maybe I can contribute to the list.” You consider it for a moment before giving in, because he’s right— he also likes Spider-Man and you’ve been keeping this to yourself for more than enough time, so maybe it will be cool to finally share it with someone.

“Alright, fine.” You accommodate the Death Star on one arm and reach for your pocket again, taking the paper and handing it to him. “Read it for yourself.”

You continue walking as Ned reads, warning him about the occasional pole so he won’t break his skull against it. You know the list by heart already, and you can almost tell which part he’s reading based on his expressions.

Who is Spider-Man?

Irrelevant: his ass looks exactly like Peter’s

Fit but not buff.

Avenger? Doubtful (Do they even exist after that fight?)

Young? Probably not younger than 18 based on what he’s doing

Doesn’t seem very experienced, has made mistakes (but they all have)

Suit changed around the time he fought against Cap America with Iron Man. Upgraded because he’s working for him now? (Sellout?)

Hasn’t been seen with the other Avengers after the fight

“All of this is valid,” Ned says, folding the paper and giving it back to you, “but none of it can even give you a hint of who Spider-Man might be.” You roll your eyes as you put the paper back in your pocket. “Except him having the same ass as Peter. Maybe Peter is Spider-Man!” He jokes, and you can’t help but laugh too as you roll your eyes at him. “Maybe instead of doing the internship he’s actually saving the city.”

“Right. Maybe his internship with Stark is actually a cover up and he’s working with Iron-Man in secret.” You retort sarcastically, shaking your head.

“Yeah! Exactly!” You both laugh at that but your it fades away pretty fast, and you stare at each other for a moment in silence.

“I mean…” You say, looking at him with a frown.

“Come on, [Y/N].” He says, staring at you in disbelief as he stops walking altogether, forcing you to do the same. “Peter is not Spider-Man.”

“I’m not saying he is!” You quickly amend. “But…” You raise your eyebrows at him in hopes you won’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud, but he doesn’t budge. “Have you ever seen them in the same place at the same time?” You grimace at how weak that sounded, and the only thing you get from Ned is an unamused stare.

“Seriously? I haven’t seen Mark Hamill in the same place as Spider-Man either.” You look at him with the same unamused stare, because he’s being dense on purpose. He knows what you’re saying is different.

“It’s obviously not the same.” You sigh and turn around to keep walking. “I’m not saying anything, okay? I hadn’t even thought about it before and it probably won’t make any sense whatsoever when I actually think about it.”

“Of course it won’t.” Ned says, dismissing you like what you just said it’s supposed to be obvious— but you’re pretty sure that what you heard in his voice just now was a tiny bit of uncertainty. 

Or maybe you just imagined it, who knows?

You don’t speak about it again for the rest of the way to Peter’s home— actually, you don’t speak at all. You’re busy trying to find one instance in your memories that completely disproves that Peter could be Spider-Man other than you just thinking that he can’t be, and when you’re one block away from his apartment you’re starting to get nervous.

While trying to prove that you’re wrong you actually realized that a lot of the times when there has been a sighting of Spider-Man, shortly before you had been talking to Peter or had been with him and then he had to leave, for whatever reason. And there’s also the Stark internship which started so shortly after Spider-Man fought against Captain America with Iron Man.

You really try to convince yourself that this doesn’t make sense at all, but the worst part is that it does. You want to believe that if Peter was Spider-Man he would’ve told you, but the truth is that you’ve only been dating for five months and even though you’re doing great, if it was you in his place you’re not sure if you would’ve told him already.

Probably not.

Definitely not.

Either way, you’re sure that pretty soon you’re going to end up seeing Spider-Man when you’re with Peter and then you’ll have all the proof you need, and all these thoughts currently clouding your mind will disappear.

Peter can’t be Spider-Man.

But still, you would swear on your life that his asses are identical.

“Aww…” You say in a whisper, smiling fondly to yourself as you pick up the framed picture on Peter’s desk. It’s a recent one— as a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you took it less than a week ago while you were studying in the library— and you’re kissing his cheek while he smiles brightly at the camera.

It’s a great picture.

“What?” Ned asks, sitting down on Peter’s bed with the Death Star on his hands. May let you both in when she saw you at the door, without even asking what you were here for. She stopped doing that with Ned years ago and with you after the first couple of weeks.

She did ask you a lot of things during that time, though. Peter ended up completely red in embarrassment every time she was done but you feel like you did pretty well every time she inquired about your intentions with her nephew.

“He’s so sweet.” You say, showing him the picture. Ned tries to smile at it but it comes as an awkward grimace instead, and you laugh out loud before putting the picture back in its place.

When you move to sit on the chair on Peter’s desk, you realize that draped on the back of it is your sweatshirt, the one you’ve been looking for the past few days. You should’ve known he took it— he loves to steal your clothes.

You turn the chair around and sit back, making yourself comfortable. You pick up a ball from the floor and start throwing it on the air only to catch it again, until you get bored and your minds starts to wander back to the thoughts you had earlier— thoughts about Peter being Spider-Man. You shake your head and look at Ned, only to find him checking his phone with a slight frown.

“What’s up?” You ask, tossing the ball to the floor again.

“Peter hasn’t been responding to my messages for a while.”

“Hasn’t he? Huh…” You say, raising your eyebrows and nodding while looking around the room.

“[Y/N]… not again.” Ned says with a roll of his eyes, shoving his phone on his pocket. “He’s not saving the city.”

“Did I say that?” You ask defiantly with a raised eyebrow, crossing your arms. He doesn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.”

“You didn’t have to say it, I can practically hear your thoughts about it.” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from snapping at him, but you’re not able to stay silent for too long.

“Okay but listen—” You say, moving from the chair to the bed next to him.

“[Y/N]—” He groans, shaking his head.

“There could be things you don’t know about him!” You whisper-scream. “There are certainly things I don’t know about him. If aliens and gods can come out of a hole in the sky and if a man can turn into a giant green beast, is it really impossible for a person we know to be Spider-Man?” He just looks at you for a moment before taking a deep breath, and you know you got him.

“I hate it that you made it sound plausible.” You grin widely at him. “What are we going to do? Ask him about it?”

“No!” You quickly say, shaking your head. “I mean, hypothetically speaking, if he was Spider-Man and he didn’t tell you or me about it… he probably has a reason.”

“Right.” Ned says, rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’ll say it’s not impossible, okay?”

You smile at that and remain silent for a while, gloating in this small victory. Ned didn’t say you have a point or that you’re right, but he also didn’t say that you didn’t. When open your mouth to say something else, you’re interrupted by a noise in Peter’s window. You both turn your heads around and you can see the glass sliding down apparently by itself— that is, until you see someone getting in.

No, not someone.

Spider-Man.

And then he takes off his mask, and you see that he’s none other than Peter himself.

This is not happening, not right now. Coincidences of this magnitude cannot happen.

He crawls on the ceiling like a fucking spider, shoots a fucking web from wrist to the door to close it and then he just lets himself fall to the floor like it’s no big deal— and without making any noise— and closes the door slowly and silently.

You really, really want to say something, but you can’t get your mouth to operate. It’s open wide in surprise, and you don’t have to look at Ned to know he looks just like you do right now. He clearly didn’t notice you two sitting on his bed, and if you needed further proof of that, the look his face the moment he turns around is more than enough.

The Death Star falls from Ned’s hands as you both stare at Peter in his all of his suit’s glory, looking incredible. Ned stands up but you still can’t move.

“What was that?” May yells from outside, and Peter quickly turns around with a panicked look on his face.

“Ah, it’s nothing!” He yells back, ready to close the door if she tries to come in.

“You’re the Spider-Man. From YouTube.” Ned breathes out, and that snaps you back to reality. You stand up as well, moving your hands to the sides of your head.

“I’m not. I’m not.” He says, pressing on his chest. His suit suddenly gets super loose and he starts to get it off, like that’s going to convince you that what you just saw didn’t happen.

“Are you serious right now?” You blurt out, shaking your head in disbelief. How can he be denying it after what just happened? After what you saw?

“Babe—” He looks at you apologetically, like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how. You can’t blame him, you’re also completely at loss of words.

“You were on the ceiling!” Ned retorts, and you quickly nod in agreement.

“ I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You say, rubbing your temples and closing your eyes.

“I wasn’t— Ned, what are you two doing in my room?” He asks, and you open your eyes to find him with your sweatshirt in his hand, ready to put it on. If your mind didn’t feel like it’s about to explode, you’d probably think that’s adorable.

“May let us in, you said we were gonna finish the Death Star!” Ned retorts.

“You can’t just burst in in my room—” Peter is interrupted by May suddenly opening the door like nothing happened, and you feel your stomach turning into knots and your heartbeat speeding up.

“That turkey meatloaf recipe is a disaster. Let’s go to dinner. Thai, Ned? [Y/N]? You want Thai?”

“Yes.” Ned says at the same time you start to speak.

“I—” That’s all you can get out before Peter interrupts you.

“No. They have a thing.” He shakes his head. “Not like that, [Y/N] and me have a thing like that. They have a thing to do.”

“A thing to do, after.” Ned says, sounding unsure.

“We have a class project to finish for tomorrow, so we were going to my house to do that now.” You quickly amend, smiling at her a little more reassuringly. How you managed to say that with your voice sounding normal instead of higher considering how nervous you are right now is beyond you.

“Okay.” She answers with a smile, starting to leave. “Maybe put on some clothes.” She tells Peter before closing the door, and that’s when you suddenly realize that she has no idea what happened before she came in.

“She doesn’t know?” Ned shrieks in a whisper as Peter puts on your hoodie. You stare at Peter in disbelief, and your eyes are open so wide that they almost hurt.

“Have you been doing this without telling anyone?” You cry out in worry. What if something happened to him and you never knew the reason why?

“Yes.” He answers you. “Nobody knows. I mean, Mr. Stark knows because he made my suit, but that’s it.”

“Tony Stark made you that?” Ned wheezes out, nearly freaking out. “Are you an Avenger?”

“Yeah, basically.” Peter answers with a shrug, but you doubt that’s actually true. Ned stumbles and grips the bed to steady himself.

“I’m going to sit down for a second.” You say, shaking your head.

“Babe, are you okay?” Peter asks, looking at you with a worried expression. You close your eyes and give him a thumbs up, trying to reorganize your thoughts.

What are the odds that you would start suspecting that Peter was actually Spider-Man around five seconds ago, and then it just so happened to be that you saw him crawling on the ceiling of his room dressed as fucking Spider-Man, turning your suspicions into reality?

You were most certainly not ready for confirmation so soon.

“You can’t tell anybody about this. You gotta keep it a secret.” Peter says, and you look up at him with your eyebrows raised. Of course you can’t tell anyone about this, why would he need to tell you that?

“A secret, why?” Ned asks.

Right. Ned is why he needed to tell you that.

“Because you know what she’s like! If she finds out people are trying to kill me every single night she’s not gonna let me do this anymore.” Peter is talking so fast that you nearly missed a couple of his words.

“If you say it like that it’s pretty hard to see how that wouldn’t be a good thing.” You say, standing up again. He turns to you with puppy eyes and you sigh, feeling like you just got defeated. He knows you can’t resist his puppy eyes. “You know I won’t say anything.” He grabs your face and gives you a quick kiss in thanks before pulling away again.

“Ned?” He asks, and Ned just stares at him. “Come on, Ned, please.” He insists.

“Edward Leeds, you better not say anything about this.” You warn in a low whisper.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I’ll level with you.” He says, looking at you both. “I don’t think I can keep this a secret, this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me!” He says excitedly.

“Ned!” You say, staring at him with an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

“May cannot know, I cannot do that to her right now. You know? And everything that’s happened with her, I—” He stops himself for a moment, and your heart aches for him, for the meaning behind those words. “Please.” Your hand finds his and you interlock your fingers together, and he gives you a thankful smile. You rest your head on his shoulder while looking at Ned, awaiting his response.

“Okay.” Ned finally says.

“Just— swear it, okay?” Peter insists, and you feel his hand squeezing yours a little tighter. 

He’s nervous.

“I swear.” Ned says, realizing how serious this is for Peter.

“Thank you.” Peter responds, and his tight hold on your hand loosens until he lets go of it completely.

“Yeah.” Ned reassures, and he doesn’t have to add anything else for you to be completely certain that he gets what’s happening with Peter at this very moment very well, probably better than you. After all, Ned was by Peter’s side when he lost his uncle, and you weren’t.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now.” Peter complains, pacing around the room.

“Can I try the suit on?” Ned asks shamelessly.

“No.” Peter deadpans, walking back towards you both.

“How does it work? Is it magnets? How do you shoot the strings?”

“Wait here for a second.” He tells you right before grabbing Ned by the arm and starting to pull him towards the door. “I’mma tell you about this at school tomorrow, okay?”

“Great.” Ned responds, excited. “Okay, but wait then— how do you do this and the Stark internship?” You just stare and Ned in disbelief and so does Peter. Good lord, Ned is a brilliant person but he can be really dense when he truly wants to.

“This is the Stark internship.” Peter explains.

“Oooooh.”

“Just get out of here.” Peter pushes Ned out the door and closes it, and you’re pretty sure that for a second he forgot you were still there. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t say anything, but you know both of you want to speak first. 

In the end, you beat him to it.

“I have to go home and think about this.” You say, walking towards the door. Peter meets you halfway and stands in front of you, looking worried.

“I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You quickly interrupt, shaking your head. “We’ll talk later.”

“But I—” You grab his face and push him towards you until your mouths connect, and his hands ball into fists gripping the fabric of your t-shirt as he pulls you closer to him.

“I have to go come and think about this.” You repeat, separating from him. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” He says, biting his lip nervously. You look at him for a moment before closing the distance between your faces one last time, giving him a short kiss before pulling away completely.

“I’ll see you later.” You say, feeling slightly awkward and out of place. You don’t like this feeling— the feeling that something is wrong between you two when it actually isn’t. But you obviously were not expecting this to happen today and especially not after sort of realizing that Peter being Spider-Man wasn’t as improbable as it should be, so now you have all these feelings and emotions inside you at the same time and you just really need time to process the new information. 

It’s nothing more than that; you wish for a little time to wrap your head around it.

“Okay. See you later.” Peter says, and you give him a small smile before opening the door and leaving his room faster than you ever have before.

While May finishes her dinner, Peter can’t bring himself to stop thinking about everything that happened today, and given the fact that he’s thinking about it all at the same time, it feels more than a little overwhelming.

The guilt over what happened to Mr. Delmar’s business, knowing that tomorrow Ned is going to ask a million questions about everything and that it’s not going to be easy to make sure he doesn’t say anything about this and… well, and then there’s you.

He knows you won’t say anything because that’s just who you are, but he’s also worried about how you reacted. It’s not like your reaction was bad, but it did seem to him that you were having a harder time than Ned adjusting to that new information. It’s not like he can blame you, if he were the one in your place he doesn’t think his reaction would’ve been a lot different than yours. But still, he can’t help but worry about what this means for you both and your relationship. Will this put a strain on it? Will it make you feel like you can’t trust him anymore? God, he really hopes that doesn’t happen because he doesn’t know what he’d do if you stop trusting him, or if you feel like you can’t talk to him about personal things with him anymore.

As he and May return home his worries increase dramatically, and all he wants to do is lock himself up in his room and try to talk to you and clear things up. You’ve always said that good communication avoids many problems, especially since you found out he’d liked you for years while you thought he actually hated you. Ever since the day you started dating Peter has been completely honest about his feelings and thoughts with you, except from when it comes to him being Spider-Man. But for the rest, he’s been nothing but truthful. He knows that his openness to share things with you is one of the things you like the most about him, and the fact that he can be open with you is one of the things he treasures the most.

“I think I’m just gonna brush my teeth and go to bed. I’m tired.” Peter says when he and May get home, even yawning to make it sound more believable.

“Okay.” May says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks past him. “I think I’m going to do the same.”

Once he’s done and finally locked up in his room, Peter immediately takes his phone out and starts typing a message for you.

Hey beautiful. You good?

He sees you writing just seconds after he hits send, and he’s thankful for that because waiting for a response would’ve been hell.

Actually I’m on the verge of freaking out It’s like I haven’t completely realized this is true? And when i do i will freak out completely

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, fearing that his worries have suddenly turned into facts.

I’m so sorry I’ll promise I’ll make it better somehow There’s nothing to make better babe, or to be sorry for. I promise. I just really want to talk to you about this bc i feel that when I do I will calm down

Your response soothes him a little, but it’s still not enough. He has to talk to you in person, and he knows that tomorrow that is going to be very difficult because he doesn’t see you as often as he’d like and you also can’t talk about something like this in front of everyone. He does have another idea, though, and he really hopes you agree to it.

Did you already go to bed? Yea but I doubt I’ll fall asleep anytime soon So…. What? Can I… Maybe…. Go…. To your room now?

Your eyes widen as you stare at the screen, not knowing what to answer for a moment.

The window is locked. Tap on it softly or text me when you’re outside and I’ll open it for you Sounds like a plan. I’ll be there soon. I’m sorry

You sigh and block your phone before falling back on your bed. Sure, you wanted to talk to Peter but you hadn’t been thinking about talking to him now, and you’re not certain that you sorted out your thoughts enough to truly convey the things you wanted to talk to him about.

Well, tough luck, because the tapping on your window signals that he’s already here.

You open the curtain to find him in his Spider-Man suit but with a dark hoodie on that serves to hide his face a little, and he’s also wearing a backpack. You unlock the window and open it, and he slides in gracefully without making any sounds. You look outside to check if anyone saw you but there’s no one around as usual, so you close the window and lock it again. When you turn around, you find Peter sitting in your bed without the mask on, looking at you with worried eyes as he bites his lower lip.

“Did you bring other clothes?” You ask and he nods, taking the backpack off. “You can change, I’ll wait.” You say, pointing at the folding screen by your closet.

“Thank you.” He says, standing up. Before he can walk away, however, you grab his gloved hand and pull him towards you until his chest presses against yours. He gasps and you smile, moving one arm to wrap around his waist.

“You shouldn’t be as worried as you are.” You whisper before grabbing the side of his face and pulling him towards you until your mouths connect in a sweet kiss.

When you pull away he’s smiling so softly that you can’t help yourself and kiss him again, and when you separate he has a huge grin on his face.

“So we’re good? Nothing changed?” He asks, like he didn’t believe that was the case until right now. Which he probably didn’t— considering that he tends to overthink things sometimes when he comes to you and then becomes worried when he has to reason to feel that way.

“Of course we are.” You say, like it’s obvious. “I just want to talk about it because it’s a big deal. Now, go change.” He rests his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling away and walking towards the screen.

You sit on the bed while you wait for him to be done, contemplating what is the first thing you want to talk to him about.

What exactly can he do? How did it happen? When did it happen? How did he get mixed up in the Avengers drama?

A smile curves the corners of your lips upwards when he reappears in front of you wearing only socks, sweatpants and the blue hoodie that you know you left behind the screen. He’s blushing and his hands are swallowed by the sleeves of your hoodie, which, added to his messy hair, make him look even more adorable than usual.

He just stands there without moving, looking at you expectantly. You open your arms for him and he walks to you, until he’s standing between your legs with your arms around his waist.

“I really just want to talk, babe. You don’t have to be nervous.” He nods and wraps his arms around your neck.

“I know, I know… it’s just that you said you were about to freak out and I got scared because I couldn’t tell you so maybe you thought–” You shake your head.

“Wait. No. That’s not why I was about to freak out. Didn’t Ned say anything to you about the list or what we were talking about before you came?” He looks at you with a puzzled look and shakes his head.

“What list? He didn’t tell me anything.” You groan and throw your head back, because you were expecting Ned to tell him and save you from having to say to his face that you realized he was Spider-Man before seeing him just because of his ass. “[Y/N]?”

You hide your face on his chest for a moment before taking a deep breath and pulling back. Sure, it might be a little embarrassing to admit but better to just get it over with.

“Okay so, a while back I started writing this list of things I had noticed about Spider-Man because I was trying to narrow down who he could be. You know, age range and that stuff.”

“Seriously?” Peter asks with his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Can I see?”

“Fuck.” You swear under your breath. Why not? Better let him read it for himself instead of having to tell him yourself. You nod and reach towards your bedside table, where the list sits folded neatly. “Here you go.” He grins at you and grabs the piece of paper, unfolding it quickly.

“His ass looks exactly like Peter’s?” He nearly shrieks, before a giggle escapes his lips. He covers his mouth with one hand and starts laughing without holding back, but still trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Stop thaaat!” You groan, covering your face with your hands. “At the time I thought it was an observation, how could I have known it was the same ass?”

“Oh God, you’re the best.” Peter says, drying a tear that escaped his eye. “Wait, you don’t think I can be an Avenger?” You uncover your face and look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“After that fight? What even are the Avengers now? Captain America and his team are considered war criminals.” He frowns and pouts.

“Okay but… it’s like, Thor and the Hulk are Avengers and they weren’t there, so if there was a catastrophe they would probably get called to help… and me too. I’m like them.”

“Okay.” You say, not pushing any further because you also don’t want him to feel bad about himself. “Anyway, today when we were going to your place I asked Ned if he could hand me the gum that was in my backpack pocket and the list was there and he read it and he also laughed…” Peter grins, but doesn’t say anything. “And then we were joking that maybe you were Spider-Man and then I was like ‘wait…’ and Ned was like 'no’ and I was like 'but what if…’ and Ned was like 'no’ so I dropped it but I kept thinking and I was trying to remember if maybe we were together at some point when I saw Spider-Man or when he was seen and then I realized that we never were, and sometimes you left right before the was a sighting of him and I kept thinking about the Stark Internship and how it happened at the same time that the fight between Captain America and Iron Man and I–”

“You figured it out.” Peter says, matter-of-factly.

“Sort of.” You shrug. “But that’s not even the thing, it’s that I didn’t get time to process it because two seconds later you were on your suit right in front of my eyes. And I kept thinking that what were the odds that I would think about that and then have it confirmed almost immediately after? That’s why I was about to freak out, not about you being Spider-Man.” His mouth opens in an adorable ‘o’ shape, and you wrap your arms around his waist again to pull him closer. “And then like an hour ago I saw on the news that apparently Spider-Man was there in a super weird robbery where the bank exploded and that really did not help to calm me down.” He gives you a sheepish look and you sigh. “How are you?” You ask, trying to not sound as worried as you are while rubbing his sides softly.

“I’m good. I’m good. They just had these freaky weapons like nothing I’ve seen before. I don’t know where they got them from.”

“What do you mean, freaky?” You ask, pulling back a little. “Like high-tech?”

“Yeah but… this wasn’t just high-tech. It was on a completely different level.”

“Do you think it’s… you know, alien tech?” He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, maybe. But I want to find out for sure.” You chew on your lip for a moment before letting out a sigh. You wish he wouldn’t get involved in anything that puts him in danger, but that’s not your call to make. It’s his and his only.

“Okay. Just… try to be safe, yeah? Maybe text me once in a while so I know you’re still alive?” Peter smiles and moves his hands to cup your face, but instead of kissing you he just rests his forehead against yours. You grab his wrists and rub your thumbs on them slowly, soothingly, and the atmosphere suddenly shifts into something sweeter and more personal than it was before.

“[Y/N]?” Peter asks in a whisper.

“Yeah?” You ask in the same tone, rubbing your nose on his with closed eyes.

“I love you.” You open your eyes again at his confession, but don’t move an inch apart from that. An involuntary smile takes over your face and Peter mirrors it almost instantly. You close the distance between your mouths and kiss him sweetly, slowly.

“And I love you, Peter Parker.”

“So a radioactive spider bit you and then you nearly died and then you had your powers and then you became a superhero.” You say, and Peter nods. He’s trying really hard to stay awake to answer all your questions, but you’re spooning him and running your fingers through his hair and speaking in whispers and it’s absolutely not helping him at all. “I never told you this but I thought you looked super hot with your glasses. And I miss them a lot.” He lets out a little laugh.

“Thank you.” He says, snuggling back closer into you.

“I mean it! Back when I hadn’t told anyone I had a crush on you I remember I used to see you all flustered with your glasses on sometimes and it was so adorable it physically hurt.” He turns around in your arms so he can face you and looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Flustered?” You grin and nod.

“Yeah! You got all nervous for some reason during Chemistry sometimes and you started touching your hair a lot and it ended up all messy and you blushed and it was adorable."  Peter immediately realizes what times you’re talking about and he buries his head on your chest in embarrassment. You might be together now, but that doesn’t mean he wants to remember all the things he did that embarrassed him in front of you in the past, before you started dating.

"Oh no…” He groans, shaking his head.

“What is it?” You ask, rubbing his back soothingly. He lifts his burning face to look up at you, but it takes him a few moments to be able to actually say the words.

“I was flustered because of you. You always looked so nice and when you got the answers right it was like I had butterflies in my stomach and I got really worried that I was going to mess up and make a fool of myself and then you’d think I was a loser.” You shut your mouth to stop the laugh from coming out, but Peter can still see it in your eyes. “It’s not funny.” He pouts, turning around again and bringing your arm with him so you wrap it around him again. He interlocks his fingers with yours and hides his face on the pillow, hoping his blush will recede quickly.

“Peter, don’t you see?” You ask, sitting up behind him and moving your face to the place where his neck meets his shoulder, and then you kiss his cheek softly. “What you were worried about me noticing was one of the things that I loved the most about you.” You whisper against his skin before leaving another kiss there. His blush remains steady, but he turns to look at you anyway. He knows you like it when he blushes.

“Really?” He asks, playing with your fingers. You nod and press a kiss on his mouth that reassures him that you’re being honest.

“You apparently don’t know that being adorable makes you super hot.” He giggles softly and turns towards you to hug you, hiding his face on your neck.

“No, it doesn’t.” He argues, but only because he wants to hear you say why it does.

“Yes, it does!” You whisper-scream. “This thing you did right now? That giggle? The blush? I’m dying right now.” You groan. “When we watch a horror movie and you get scared and sit on my lap so you can hide your face on my neck? I feel like I’m going to pass out.” Peter can hear the humor in your voice, and it makes him feel deliriously happy. He wants to laugh, because hearing you talk about him this way makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“That’s because I don’t like horror movies. I like it better when we watch sci-fi movies.” You kiss the top of his head and he lets out a pleased sigh.

“I know you do, babe.”

“Do you have any more questions?” Peter asks, once again starting to feel sleepy.

“I do, but we can leave them for tomorrow. You can sleep now, you had quite the day today.” He nods and snuggles as close as humanly possible into you, and you start rubbing his back under your hoodie and scratching his scalp again.

He falls asleep almost immediately after.

“Peter, babe. Wake up.” You say, shaking his shoulder softly. He doesn’t even stir. “Come on, you have to go home before May realizes you’re gone.” He groans and turns around, burying his face on your chest before going still again. “Peter!” You say as loud as possible while trying to not wake up anyone else, shaking him with a little more force. He gasps and opens his eyes, looking at you with an unfocused stare.

“What time is it?” He asks groggily, rubbing his eyes with one hand before yawning.

“Five. You need to go home before May realizes you’re not there.” He nods and closes his eyes tightly before opening them again and blinking a couple of times.

“I really wish I could stay longer.” He complains, getting out of bed and walking towards the folding screen while stretching his arms above his head.

“Me too, baby.” You say, grabbing your phone from your bedside table and opening Instagram while Peter takes his sweet time putting on his suit.

When he walks out again, he’s all dressed up as Spider-Man, save for his mask which hangs from his hand. You get out of bed and walk up to him, taking his face in your hands the moment you’re close enough to do so.

“You’re beautiful.” You say, resting your forehead on his. “I love you.” He smiles and wraps his arms around your back, pulling you close to him.

“I love you too.” He whispers. “Thank you for being so understanding.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips before letting out a sigh.

“The truth is… I will worry about you. There’s nothing we can do about that. But I don’t feel like I’m in a place where I can judge your choices because… if I were to wake up tomorrow with powers I’d want to help people too. You’re such a good person, Peter. So good.” He kisses you right after you say that, melting into the kiss. He whines when you pull away, and you smile at the sound. “But also… look.” You pull away a little so he can see your face clearly, but don’t let go of him. “You will make mistakes, because you’re human. And you’ll have to live with those mistakes. But remember that even if you have super powers you’re still a teenager. Just… try not to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Now Ned and I know too and you can talk to us… talk to me.” You rub his cheekbone with your thumb soothingly, looking him into his eyes. “More than anything, I want you to be okay.” He stays silent and unmoving for a moment, and then leans forward and kisses you again, deeply. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

Peter has different ways of displaying his emotions through kisses, and you've been getting really good at identifying what he means based on the way he wraps his arms around you or the depth and length of the kiss. Based on what you just said as well as that, this kiss feels like a thank you.

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologizes when you separate to breathe. “What you said…” He gives you one more kiss and then hugs you tightly, burying his face on your neck. “Thank you.” You smile at that, because it feels good knowing that you were right about the way he felt.

“I really love you, Peter. Not just like a boyfriend but like a friend too. You mean a lot to me.” You say, rubbing his back. “And I’m with you on this. Don’t bottle things up. I… I know it gets bad for you when you do."  You don’t have to say what you mean by that, because you both know. When his uncle died he shut himself off, but you weren’t really close when that happened so you only learned about it because of those nights when you spent hours pouring your hearts out to one another.

"I know.” He mumbles against you skin. “I just… I feel a little lighter now that you know.” Peter pulls back just enough to look at you. “Ned, on the other hand…” You can’t help yourself and let out a small laugh at that.

“Yeah. He’s just really excited. He won’t say anything, though. Don’t worry.”

“I know, I know.” Peter agrees, nodding. “I… hope.” You roll your eyes at him, but the smile that curves your lips is completely out of your control.

“Come on, Spider-Man. You have to go.” He pouts and holds on to you a little tighter. You don’t want him to leave either, but neither your mom nor his aunt will be very pleased if they find out you do this practically on the daily. “I don’t make the rules, beautiful.” He tries to hold back his smile, but fails. “Come on. Off you go.” You pry him off of you and walk towards the window to open it. He sighs exaggeratedly and walks towards you really slowly, which is something he does pretty much every time he has to leave. “I’ll see you again in like two hours.” You giggle, shaking your head at him.

“But I’ll miss you during those two hours.” He complains, hiding his face on your neck as soon as he reaches you.

You pry his head off of you and make him look at you with your hands on either side of his head. He rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. For a moment you think he fell asleep, but when his mouth slowly moves to find yours you realize he’s perfectly awake.

“I love you.” He whispers when you separate, rubbing his nose with yours.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, hugging him tightly before pulling away from him.

He gives you one last short kiss before putting his mask on and leaving, but even after he’s already disappeared behind the buildings you can’t help but keep looking at where he just was, transfixed.

It may have taken you a few hours, but you finally managed to process everything that happened, and now you’re left with only wonder and amazement. 

You don’t know how this is going to affect you in the long run or what tomorrow may bring, but you can't deny that knowing your boyfriend is a superhero means that, from now on, things are bound to start getting much more interesting.

THE NEXT PART OF THIS FIC CAN BE FOUND HERE

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