#i hope the author doesnt mind

[makiinspace]

fanart from this scene from a fanfic im reading. link below ->

[jemmo]

Making sense of love for love's sake: the game

Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:

'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'

And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".

When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.

And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.

And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:

"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."

Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.

"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."

And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.

"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."

And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.

And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.

And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.

The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.

[puhpandas]

what are u guys' dream game after sotm? since itll be the last game centered around the mimics backstory and integration and stuff (hopefully) theres basically a whole world of possibilities for currently neglected storylines lol

[mxdotpng]

if i had the energy and time to write my orv enchanted au itd be all over. id have fulfilled my lifes goal. thered be nothing left to strive for. which is of course why i cant write it and definitely not because im bad at writing for long projects.

[sanchoyo]

was searching for another fic I forgot to bookmark and stumbled across the dustverse series and bnha followers u MUST GO READ IT. MANDATORY READING. GO FORTH, MY PSIONIC WARRIORS

[cxffecoupx]

realizing that they're in love with you

seventeen × gn reader fluff, svt being soft for s/o, comfort warnings: mentions of food, alcohol word count: 1.4k author's notes: my first ever requested article. to the anon who sent me this, i love you so much and thank you so so much for sending it in, i hope you like it, and i'm so sorry it took so much time, my brain was smoked for a bit😭 but i absolutely loved writing it. i had to read similar stuff by other svt writers (mainly @emocheol how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’ and @suhnshinehaos the soft italicized 'oh' moment) to get into it. please do check them out too, i love it!!

➼ choi seungcheol

seungcheol had come home late in the evening, tired and exhausted. work was rough, the boys were chaotic, and all he wanted now was some peace and quiet. the moment he sees you at home, however, all his stress just melts away. you're just there, smiling at him, asking about his day, but he already feels so much better. and when you stay up all night, sitting with him and helping him work through his troubles, that's when it hits him. he wants you by his side as his support, forever.

➼ yoon jeonghan

you both were out for dinner with your friends. two hours and 3 glasses of beer in, the chatter had cooled down into private conversations. you were talking to one of your colleagues when you notice jeonghan zoning out in the middle of the gathering. realising he's run out of his social battery, you say your goodbyes and stand up, and drag a drowsy han back to your car. it's not until the next morning that jeonghan understands everything and smiles to himself. a person who deciphers him state of mind? maybe you were his best match after all.

➼ hong jisoo

jisoo had gone to his hometown for some two weeks to spend with his mom. he was so excited for it he didnt even notice how much you hated him leaving you. he had been quite busy during his vacation, meeting friends, spending time with mom, but something kept troubling his mind. something he had no answer for. even the voice calls and facetimes didnt help. then he returns and sees your face among all other blurred people and smiles. he never wants to stay away from you, he realises.

➼ moon junhui

between work and practice, jun hadnt really noticed his birthday approaching. coming home after work one day, a familiar scent welcomes him. he goes to the kitchen to find a pot of simmering hotpot broth and its ingredients sliced and kept aside. with the emotions flooding in with every whiff, he doesnt notice you hugging him from the back while singing a 'happy birthday' softly, and turning him around to kiss a gentle kiss on his forehead. he has no words to say; he only embraces you tight and cries on your shoulder as the members, who had arrived a little after him on your request, watch. he doesnt say anything, his eyes conveying that he's grateful for everything you've done

➼ kwon soonyoung

if you ask his friends, kwon soonyoung was a very weird person. he says he's an introvert (well, his MBTI said that), but he's as extroverted as they get. he pretends to be a tiger most of the times and his behaviour is VERY unpredictable. everyone thought he'd be difficult to tolerate or balance out. but then you came along. now they've got two very weird people to deal with. they had talked to soonyoung how he'd met his match, but he never thought more of it, until he sees you with his friends and sees something of himself in the way you are with them. he'd finally found someone who'd match his weird.

➼ jeon wonwoo

wonwoo's camera roll was full. which only meant one thing: time to save all the pics to his laptop. he inserts the sd card into the computer and opens the file. his face instantly lights up. you had always been shy in front of camera lens. meeting wonwoo was one of the best moments of your life, but it still took time for you to adjust to his captures. that didn't stop him from considering you his muse, the one he's love to click again and again and again. seeing you smiling in the pictures he took warmed his heart. you could be camera shy, but he only ever loved capturing you.

➼ lee jihoon

jihoon is a workaholic through and through. he wouldnt think twice about missing food and sleep if its to get his work done. you'd often complained about him working saturdays too. imagine the surprise his team had when he called in to announce a day off. like, what caused the mighty lee jihoon to take a day off on a saturday?? the answer was at his home, lying between his arms, a sleepy you that had cuddled your way into his arms in the early morning hours. he'd fallen in love watching you be so comfortable with him. you'd convinced him to stay home once in a while.

➼ lee seokmin

company celebrations usually always ended with fireworks. and usually, you watched it with everyone else in the hall. but this time, seokmin arranged for the keys of the roof for you two to have a better and private view of the sparklers. you sneak in with him, giggling and tripping over your own feet in the dark as you reach the roof to see the spectacular show. you walk ahead, mind blown by how much more beautiful it looked from up here. but seokmin had his eyes locked on something else. you. he'd rather admire you than watch the fireworks.

➼ kim mingyu

food was mingyu's love language. he absolutely LOVED cooking food and feeding it to his loved ones. but since after he met you, he realised he especially loved cooking for you. he loved cooking your comfort food for you. he cooked your mom's recipes when he felt that you missed home a little too much. he loved to listen to your comments when he experimented with the ingredients. it's during one such preparation when it dawned on him. he'd love to make food for you for a very long time.

➼ xu minghao

you'd always been mesmerised hearing hao speak chinese. he doesnt use it very much; pretty much only when he's calling his family or sometimes when speaking with junhui, who's also from china. to say chinese was becoming second to him wouldnt be false because he's using so much korean in his daily life. one day, while walking around the house, he hits his toe on the couch and lets out a sharp curse in his mother tongue. you gasp and say "oh my! hao just cursed," and hao quickly turns his head towards you. it's not what you said, it was how you said it that surprised him. you had responded to him in chinese?? you explain to him how you started taking small classes in learning chinese so that he could converse comfortably with you too. you even asked him to help you. hao swore once again, but in his head. someone was ready to go to such lengths for him? he's truly fallen in love with you.

➼ boo seungkwan

seungkwan had begged for you to stay overnight. it was difficult of course, because you both were tired from work. but when he pulls the ultimate puppy eyes, you couldn't really refuse. you went through an elaborate routine of doing skincare and bathing as a way of relaxing, and watching sappy sitcoms until you both fell asleep to the white noise of the tv. seungkwan woke up first, but his breath hitched seeing you asleep next to him. apart from the little snores and a string of drool from the corner of you mouth, you looked so adorable, snuggled in next to him; so tiny, and so so cute. he stayed there, watching you, silently wishing he could see you like this every morning.

➼ chwe hansol

everyone says hansol has a weird sense of humour. it's not that he doesn't make good jokes, it's just that no one reacts in the way he wishes. so when he goes, "why did the bicycle take a nap? because it was two-tiered" and you end up crying of laughter among the dead silence of his friends, he feels a blush creep up his cheeks. someone who laughs at his corny jokes? that has to be the soulmate he never believed in.

➼ lee chan

chan cannot deny that he loves smiling. laughing. chuckling. he loves to be filled with happiness at all times. whether it's through his own jokes, or his friends' crazy antics, he wishes to be happy most of the time. that's how he realises one day that being with you makes him smile automatically. there is absolutely no specific reason. seeing you, talking to you, listening to you talk about anything and everything. no matter what you do, you always manage to bring a smile to his face. he doesnt really understand it though, how it happens. but one thing's for sure. he wishes to remain happy with you always.

[luna0713hunter]

"one more kiss? please?" with zoro we’re he’s just so needy for his s/o and cant stop kissing them cause he’s so in love aahh

Author's note : YAY!MY FIRST ASK!!!thank u for sending this request!!i hope you enjoy it darling! ◉‿◉

"one more kiss?please?"

From this prompt

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : none really,maybe slightly suggestive?,lots of kissing,fluff fluff fluff,just Zoro being needy for his s/o's affection

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

The gentle rocking of the hammock you were laying on was enough to make you unbelievably calm.

The room was empty;Sanji deciding to start dinner early and giving you and Zoro some privacy.

The small sounds of kissing and soft pants were the only things that could be heard in the quiet of the room. In the rare moments of intimacy,Zoro had dragged you down on his hammock to lay on top of him.

With his hands on your hips as you straddle him, nothing else seemed to matter at that moment when your lips were pressed firmly against his;your own hands wondering from his face to his toned chest.

It was rare to see Zoro like this;the usually cool and stoic man begging for your attention,and yours only;not letting you pull even for a breather and immediately chasing your lips as soon as you part for even a second. And despite loving this man with all your heart,needy Zoro was absolutely your favorite.

"Babe," you whisper as soon as he lets you pull away;your voice shaky and your eyes glazed over, "we need to go."

"why?" And he doesnt even let you answer,as his lips lock with yours again as his hands wonder from your hips up to your waist.

"its almost time for dinner." And you almost laugh when you have to put a hand on his chest and push in order to stop him from capturing your lips and shut you up again. And Zoro huff,before pressing his lips to your neck,and making you shiver when he speaks next as you can feel every word against your sensitive skin.

"you cant possibly tell me you want to leave me like this for dinner."

You let out a small sigh as he trails his lips against your throat.

"to be fair,Sanji makes mean desserts."

"babe," he particularly growls, "if you want dessert,you dont need to leave the room to get it." And his arms wrap around your waist to pull you impossibly closer until your chest is pressed against his. He moves his face so his next words are whispered next to your ear, "I'll give it to you right here."

The sound has you shivering once more; Zoro's voice always making you weak in knees.

"So,love," when his nose brushes against yours,your eyes flutters shut, "one more kiss?please?"

He's not even finished before your moving your lips against his again.

If you were in your right mind,you would've laughed at how needy Zoro sounded. But when he slowly turns you around,until your the one laying on the hammock and he's on top of you this time,all the thoughts fly out of your head.

Good thing Sanji knows to save you guys dinner,cause you dont think you'll be leaving the room anytime soon.

[bitchlessdino]

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.” 

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

 “Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.” 

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?” 

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

[81folklore]

cornerstone - VERSTAPPEN

pairings: max verstappen x ex!fem!reader (fc: gigi hadid)

summary: timeline of posts and the internets reactions after the break up of max and yn

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: got stuck in a loop of playing cornerstone for hours and got some inspiration, i really love this song and i feel its not appreciated enough!! also please pretend all the girls look like gigi and all the guys look like max (also i called your sister bella bcs im unoriginal so if thats your name i apologize!!)

authors note 2: i really hope this makes sense as i wrote it in abouuuut 30 mins (i do recommend listening to cornerstone by arctic monkeys if you’re not familiar with the song!) quite a short smau to ease myself back in 🫶 please go by the timestamps in the messages not the tweets

authors note 3: reading back im not sure if the messages make sense but they are all from max, i did it in this way to kinda show the difference between max and yn. the difference being he still has her has ‘yn’ with the contact picture being her but she has ‘max (ex)’ and the default picture, kinda to confirm theyre in very different places (if that still doesnt make sense lmk!!)

masterlist

but my chances turned to toast

when i asked her if i could call her your name

she was close, and she held me very tightly

til i asked awfully politely “please, can i call you her name?”

and she wrote it out in Letraset

“No, you cant call me her name”

she was close, well, you couldnt get much closer

she said “im really not supposed to but yes,

you can call me anything you want”

yourusername 📍location your mind

liked by maxverstappen33, landonorris and 3,942,628 others

you could never forget this face😘

comments have been restricted

[erodasfishtacos]

The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

+

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

++

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

++

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

++

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

++

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

++

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

++

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

++

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

++

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

++

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

++

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

++

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

++

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

++

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

++

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

++

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

++

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

[httpiastri]

🍈 - could i request oscar and "already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't" from the touch starved promp list?

happy 3k! you are so deserving and there is so much more to come 🫶

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: getting closer and closer to that 200 word mark!! 😭 anywaysss thank you so much and thank u for requesting, hope u enjoy <3 (idk why my queue doesnt work sometimes 💔 this was scheduled for like 4 hours ago 💔)

3k celly !!

oscar finds you sitting on the floor right outside of the exam hall, your head in your hands. any other day, the sight would make him laugh or want to tease you – but he knows that this isn't the time and place for that.

his heart sinks in his chest when he walks closer, taking in your slumped shoulders and the way your body sags even further when he hears you sigh. he knows that this exam is important for you, and he knows how easily you become stressed over schoolwork, but he never would've thought it would affect you this much.

"hey," he starts, leaning against the wall next to you before sliding down it and sitting down on your left side. "you're not crying, are you?"

"not yet..."

oscar's gentle touch on your skin sends a shiver through your body, one you hope he doesn't notice when his fingers gently pry your hands away from your face. your right hand drops to your side, but he doesn't stop at removing your left one from your face; he traces his index finger along the length of your own, before letting it slip in between your fingers and intertwining them with his.

it takes you a few moments to realize the fact that he's actually holding your hand, but when you do, your breath hitches in your throat. you had been nervous to look over at him even before, but now? no way you can muster that much courage.

"you're going to do well, you know," he says, and your heart practically melts at the soft aussie accent seeping through ever so slightly in his words. "you've studied so hard."

you merely shrug, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of forgetting that oscar piastri is holding your goddamn hand for just one second so that you can let some helpful thoughts into your mind. it doesn't work, however, leaving you speechless yet again.

"go in there and crush it."

and then, there it is – the action that makes your knees weak, your heart skip a few beats, and your mind spin all over again.

it's not a big gesture per se, and the delicate little squeeze of your hand in his has a much bigger effect than you'd hoped. you feel a bit embarrassed, frankly, because you're over here freaking out over some simple physical contact. all you can do is pray that oscar isn't noticing it.

he does, of course, notice it. however, contrary to what you think, he finds your reaction adorable. it makes him want to give you even more, to hug you, to cradle your pretty face in his hands and stare right into your eyes.

but he'll save that for another day.

[atinyniki]

i ruined it...

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!lee felix x f!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff if you squint

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, almost breakup, y/n doesnt think felix loves her, felix is referred to as lix, felix neglects y/n bc of his job, felix misses their two year anniversary dinner, felix has trouble breathing in the scene, felix cries a lot, proposals, promise rings, insecurities, felix has been broken up with a lot bc of this, y/ns fav flowers are peonies, fighting

authors note: i cried. i dont even know why this came to mind??? but it did !!! so enjoy the angst :P this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 2232

“i’m sorry”

“sorry isn’t going to cut it anymore, felix. you’ve said it so much i don’t think you mean it anymore.”, you bite back harshly.

you’re normally understanding of felix’s job. it regularly requires him to stay overtime and keeps him very busy, but he’s missed too many of your activities.

he missed ice skating, your birthday, at least ten dates, but now he’s missed your anniversary. two years that you’ve been together, yet it’s like you don’t even see the boy anymore.

“what…?”

“it’s always ‘sorry’. if you were really sorry, maybe you would’ve skipped dinner with the boys. you could’ve come home… to me…”, your voice falters at the last two words, cracking with raw emotion.

it’s not fair to you anymore, nor is it to him. he can’t leave group activities or basically anything work related, even when it’s an emergency. if no one’s in danger, then there’s no chance he can leave.

“don’t you ever want to see me…?”

his face contorts into an expression of disgust. not with you, but with himself. his tears finally drip over his lashline, eyes red and burning. the tears are continuous now, completely unable to stop.

“i do… i do want to see you… i miss you so much, y/n.”

you scoff, “don’t lie to me, felix.”

he opens his mouth to say something back, but only a squeak comes out. “do you still love me…?”

“i love you to the ends of the earth… i promise.”

“then why don’t you ever show it? i don’t even know if i believe you anymore.”

he clamps a hand over his mouth, not out of surprise, but to suppress his sobs. he continues hiccupping, but clutches his mouth harder, not wanting to make too much noise.

he tilts his head down slightly so you won’t be able to see the painful look on his face. he tries to pull through, knowing that your pain must be much worse than this.

the sight breaks your heart.

“take your hand off your mouth. you won’t be able to breathe”

he complies, quickly wiping his tears and taking long breaths. “please- please believe m-me. i really do love you. i’m so sorry.”

he says it again, and you look into his eyes. you can see the pain in there, causing your heart to crack even more. you know he’s dealing with a lot right now, but so are you.

and now you need space. time to think about yourself, and time to think about if this relationship is really worth it anymore.

“i swear, i mean it, y/n.”

“you’re the one ruining this. this isn’t fair at all, felix. i love you, but i don’t think you love me the same way i love you. you’re not making an effort in anything. i don’t know if this is going to work anymore if it stays like this.”

silence.

“i need space.”

“i can give you that.”

“i don’t think this relationship is good for either one of us right now. ill come back when im ready.”

he nods in understanding, but his eyes are blown wide. the second you leave the room, he starts sobbing again.

no, not sobbing. wailing.

there’s nothing else he can do. this truly might be the end of what he hoped would be forever. 

he hurt you. he hurt you and that hurts him. your pain is his pain, but he knows you have it worse. if anything, he deserves this pain. you’ve had to bear this pain for months.

it’s his fault, he knows it. everything’s falling apart because of him, like it always does. everything’s ruined. it will end like it always does. 

just felix, alone.

someone else will come along, and he’ll break them too. it’s happened time and time again, and he’s finally given up.

it’s you he wants to spend the rest of his life with. it has to be you. no one else has made him feel this way, not once.

what’s worse is that you’re truly considering breaking up. ending it all because of another stupid thing felix did.

and for this, he will never forgive himself.

he’s still crying, just as loud as before, but now snuggled up into the couch. it smells like you, he realizes. maybe that’s why he’s getting so emotional.

he plays with the promise ring on his finger, crying even more now. maybe he won’t need it anymore after this.

you start packing, taking a good amount of clothes and stuffing them in your suitcase. you’ll have enough space for everything, you’re sure.

you grab one of your favorite sweaters from the closet, it has an adorable baby chick embroidered onto it. you stare at it again, but then put it back. it reminds you too much of him. 

you make your way to the bathroom, placing your hand on the counter while you open the drawers to check for any jewelry, when you hear a clink.

you place your hand down on the marble again.

clink.

you look down at your ring finger, a singular tear leaving your eye. you remember when felix got down on one knee on your one year anniversary. it was too early for a proposal, so you freaked out, but he calmed you down and opened the box.

a promise ring. a simple band to symbolize eternity. an eternity you believed you’d spend with felix. you’re scared that eternity doesn’t exist anymore, as much as you want it to.

you don’t know if he cares. if he cares about what you have. if he cares about you. 

you remove the band from your finger, shaky hands placing it down onto the counter. you observe the thin tan line it’s made, has it truly been that long?

when did everything change…?

you look for the box that felix gave it to you in. you’ve never taken it off since you got it.

you check in your jewelry drawer, but it’s not there. so you check in his.

there it is. a navy blue box with gold accents on the edges. you smile sadly, crying a little more when you truly think about your circumstances.

you grab the ring from the countertop and flip open the box.

your heart stops.

it’s supposed to be empty.

why isn’t it empty?

there’s a gorgeous gold band on the inside, small peonies engraved into it. your favorite flower, you realize. additionally, there’s a perfect heart shaped diamond sitting on top, almost taunting you. 

the heart was meant to symbolize your love. the love you have for eachother. the love he has for you. but felix has never been able to show that properly, not while under his circumstances.

is this the surprise he mentioned the week before? is this why he told you to dress nicely to dinner? is this why he told you to do your nails all nice?

it had to be, right?

you close the box and hold it tightly in your hand, trying your best to suppress the tears that are trying desperately to escape.

but your heart controls you more than your mind.

its almost as if your heart actually has a mind of its own, bringing you to where you are now. standing in the living room, watching the sobs rack felix’s body, velvet box still in hand.

his body jerks with each hiccup, the noise completely muffled by his hand. it’s then you realize that it’s not muffled, he’s suffocating himself.

you place the box down onto the table, rushing over to felix. you grab his shoulder, pushing him over and sitting him upright. he jerks when you touch him, not expecting you to be anywhere near him.

once he truly processes the sight of you, he cries even more. you pry his hand off of his face again, you know it’s a bad habit.

“felix. you won’t be able to breathe when you do that.”

“im sorry. i didn’t w-want you to- to hear m-me”

“deep breaths.”

he inhales deeply, trying his best to follow your breathing patterns, but it fails every time, broken up into small hiccups. “i c-can’t.”

“calm down…”

you give him a small smile, almost to reassure him. he tries again, but it doesn’t work. he shuts his eyes, unable to take it all, and the tears just continue to spill.

“i- i can’t… i can’t breathe”

you rub circles onto his back, trying your best to do breathing exercises with him. you forget how truly sensitive he is. 

“i’m right here…”

“you’re r-right here.”

“mhm… i’m right here, felix.”

“you’re right here… w-why are you here?”

you tilt your head in confusion, wiping a single cascading tear away from his cheek. “i’m here to take care of you.”

“you- i… i don’t deserve it…”

“what?”

“i don’t deserve you. you can- you can leave. i’m not forcing you to stay…”

your heart is now barely holding on, and it feels like only a single thread is holding it together.

“i’m here because i want to help you, lix.”

“you don’t- no- you don’t need to help me… it’s my fault.”

you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. 

“it’s my fault… i’m sorry.”

“felix…”

“you’ll leave…”

what’s going on with him?

“they all leave… n-not you too…”

“felix.”

“i don’t want you to leave… it’s all my fault.”

“felix, please, calm—“

“you’re going to leave…”

“i’m not going to leave.”

“i ruined it…”

it’s almost as if he’s stuck in the same state of mind, every part of the world being blocked out except for the terrible thoughts swirling around in there.

you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding his gaze towards you. one single look into your eyes, and he’s sobbing again. 

you place your left hand on his knee, you know how much he loves to feel you, but he only seems to cry more.

he tentatively brings a hand up to the one splayed out in his knee, and you watch him out of curiosity. he giggles, and you look back up.

he’s crying even more now, you don’t even know how that’s possible. he picks up your hand by your ring finger, staring at the tan line that your promise ring created. 

“i ruined it. how could i ever let you go…?”

he runs his thumb over it, and he quickly pulls your hand closer to his face. he places a soft kiss onto the line, just once, as to finally seal his fate.

it will never happen. he must accept it.

you don’t let go, instead intertwining your fingers. “i thought about it for a little. i really don’t want to leave you felix. i just… i didn’t know if you loved me anymore.”

“i do… i do love you.”

“i know that now.”

“you don’t know the full extent to which i do, y/n. i don’t just love you for what you have to offer. i love you for you. i love you for your smile, and i love you for waking up everyday. i love you for working hard, and i love you for your heart. i love you for things i can’t even see, and i love every part that makes you you. i love y/n. i love you. and i love you for being you.”

it feels as if the tears in your heart have finally been stitched up. every crack in your heart healed with his pure words. you know they came from the heart too. 

“i can’t guarantee i’ll be there for every event, and im sorry for that. ive tried to change that, but the rules are strict. even then, i wont give up. i’ll try my best to change them, i want to be the best boyfriend i can be. i dont want to rush dates because im running out of time, but instead because i cant wait to get home and finally cuddle with you without being in the public eye. i dont want to be late to any events just so that i can see that beautiful smile on your face when you see me there. i just want to make you happy, happier than you’ve been recently.”

“oh felix…”

he doesn’t say anything else, placing your hand back down on his knee and retracting his hand. that’s when his gaze flies to the table in front of him, the dark blue velvet box staring right at him.

he stands up, grabs it, and then kneels back down, on not one, but both knees. it looks almost as if he’s begging, but what you don’t realize, is that he truly is. he’s begging for your forgiveness, and he’s begging for another chance.

he has to make things right.

“y/n… i know i haven’t been the best boyfriend recently, not at all, but i want to make things right. you’ve brought so much light into my world, and i want to bring you that light too. i just need you to give me one last chance. one chance to make it right. i know it’s not the perfect proposal, but please, make me the happiest man in the world.”

he flicks open the box, displaying the band you last observed in the bathroom.

“i love you.”

“that’s not a yes or a no.”

“yes, i love you.”, you repeat.

you can’t control your heart anymore, and you take the chance to push felix down to kiss him. you know it’s not the ideal proposal, nor is it the ideal post-proposal kiss, but your answer would always be yes.

“it’s you, felix. it’s always been you.”

“y/n.”

“hm?”

“i promise, i’ll never let you go again.”

<3

[dunmeshistash]

Hi, so recently there was a dunmeshi signing (?) event with Ryoko Kui in Korea. And I have found some posts from korean fans about their experience and a bunch of illustrations. @Dgae_715 is the acc on twitter i have found most of information from reposts. But basically here are the most relevant facts that I have found (Please note that they may be inaccurate due to me relying on online translator):

A fan asked if post canon Falin will live longer, Ryoko Kui basically answered “maybe so, right?”

The same fan asked if Thistle without desire will able to live happily with the care of others, and as far as I got she said “I hope so”.(Note: I am really not sure if I got this one right at all) The fan themselves said the way Ryoko Kui answered was rather unprepared, so she may not have an answer in mind really on such specific questions.

Another fan asked how Mithrun is in post canon, Ryoko Kui said that he is doing well, working and pursuing hobbies.

Somebody asked Mithruns about strength, he is weaker than a soldier, even though he is got the fighting skills, but he developed them mostly because of his sense of professionalism (?), rather than for fighting.

Past Mithrun didn’t really fight that much, he was mostly an investigator(?), he rarely had to fight in the rear(?) units.

Apparently Falin’s chimera form can get oily, so she repells water a bit

In real life, Marcille would be a med school research student, while Laios would be a “furita” (basically a freelancer with no stable income)

Someone said if Ryoko Kui considered a bad ending for Falin, and Ryoko Kui said she, as an author wanted a happy ending, but in case of Falin, she was worried after the ending (14 volume or later?), but overall she thinks it turned out well. (I think the after the ending refers to her post canon fate, and maybe thats why Ryoko kui did an extra on that specifically later on) 8. Also someone asked if Ryoko Kui would eat the dishes from dunmeshi, and she replied she is a picky eater, and she also said to someone that she drew dishes that she liked and disliked in dunmeshi (I bet she doesnt like fruitcakes).

(Note: There is a 90% chance I got this completely wrong, translator was struggling a LOT here) Someone asked about what Laios is good at, she replied “when he is a party member”. 9. She also likes Lord of the Rings and Wizardly 6(?), and she likes Skip and Loather

When asked about what word definies Laios, she said he is actually a normal/usual person(?). I have lost the post with this specific answer, so I am going by my memory;-;

Some fan showed her that picture with Tennant Chilchuck, she didnt recognise the actor unfortunately. Also apparently this meme originated from Korean dunmeshi fandom???

There were other questions and answers too, but they mostly about Ryoko Kui. And I also may have forgotten to add some;-; Also some fan suggested to Ryoko Kui that Falin in the real life should be a dentist by the way she makes them drool(????I think they meant it in non-sexual manner, like an excited dog), they kind of laughed about it. Also Ryoko Kui drew Falin the most(?) for signing postcards, other characters, and only 5-6 Senshis, 2 Winged Lions

Anonymous asked: The same anon with Korean sign event ask. I knew I forgot something, but basicaly some fan showed Ryoko Kui the day dream picture that most of fandom presumes to be a Chilchuck’s wife and asked if its true, she answered “Its up to your imagination”. So basically neither no or yes

Thank you! I LOVE SKIP AND LOAFER WEEEE

Hopefully we get some more corroborating translations for the bits you're not sure!

[orphiclovers]

Okay. Long incoherent rambling theory post ahead. Specifically, I want to talk about how the Han Sooyoung 'split' happened/how Han Sooyoung got the avatar skill, extrapolating from canon where I can and headcanoning the rest.

Let's start from what she herself says on the topic. 3rd rounds Han Sooyoung tells Kim Dokja, in a conversation about how 'Avatar' works, that the very first time she made an avatar, she gave it too many memories and it 'went out of control' and ran off. This was a friendly conversation and hsy brought it up herself, so there's not really a reason for her to lie here - this is probably close to how she actually remembers the situation.

Which is interesting because 1863rd rounds Han Sooyoung denies this fact and says SHE is the main body and that she left an avatar behind to act as her. Now 1863 could be lying here to unbalance kdj, they were having a battle of words at the time with lying being an explicit part of the game, but she could also be telling the truth and maybe 3rd just doesn't know she's an avatar (like 49%). we don't get a comfirmation either way so that is left ambigous. So. That's a dead end.

Then, how does the Avatar skill evolve in general?

Kim Dokja says the requirements to evolve it is that you need to be in a creative field of some kind (so you have an 'Author' attribute) + under enough psychological distress for your mind to 'split' in a way that orv compares to DID (in not the most tactful way). It's a rare skill so I'm guessing it probably requires both of these to be true at the same time. A key hint is that we do actually get one other example of someone evolving the Avatar skill on screen. 1863rd rounds Yoo Joonghyuk. It goes like this:

So...not exactly a fun time. But actually I'm sensing a pattern here. Both Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung, after evolving and using the avatar skill for the first time end up as two sepetate autonomous entities with their own free will - 1863rd!hsy and 3rd!hsy and white and black coat wearing yjh respectively (Kim Dokja too actually - with 49% 51%). So, I think this might be how the skill functions, spontaneously splitting you in half the first time and then both halves of you can make avatars at will after that. Let's assume this is true for the sake of the theory. This conflicts with the way both Han Sooyoungs describe it - they both say they 'created' an avatar the first time BUT I think neither of them were being entirely truthful.

Let's talk about that second parameter. 'Severe psychological distress' in a way similar to that of DID. How I interpret this, based on what we see of 1863rd!yjh, is that there needs to be some fundemental dissonance of core beliefs that cannot exist or be held at the same time, so requires the soul to split in half. For Yoo Joonghyuk it's 'I want to live/I want to die.' (Although Kim Dokja doesnt get the skill in the natural way, I think this concept still holds true. His dissonance is not so explicitly stated but maybe it's something along the lines of 'epilouge/eternity' i.e 'happily ever after OR atonement for his (percieved) sins'.)

But also there's an element of, how do I say this...'purifying self-destruction' to how we see our trio use Avatar. Yoo Joonghyuk takes the blackened and traumatized part of him that wants to die and kills it with a sword, leaving only the part of him that still has hope to regress to the 3rd round, free and unburdened by the weight of bad memories.

You could interpret 51%/49% this way too. The inherent act of Kim Dokja choosing to use this skill to split his soul in half means he did not see another way foward - that psychological distress and belief dissonance is an inherent part of this skill. 49%, the one who get's the 'happily ever after' does not remember needing Ways of Survival, maybe because Kim Dokja couldn't imagine himself having a happy ending with the weight of those specific memories.

But coming back to Han Sooyoung. Just look at the way she uses Avatar in kaizenix. She is a person who does not enjoy being emotionally vulnerable so in any heavy situation she clings to her dry and witty personality like a shield.

Let's just fully realize what she's saying here. When she says she erased the memories of her life deliberately, what she means is that she created an avatar, a sort of 'black coat wearing han sooyoung' and killed it again and again, every year, so she could keep that sarcastic and light hearted attiude. Otherwise she would have become someone like 1863rd rounds Han Sooyoung - hardened and unhappy. And I mean that she literally was on the path of becoming her - she even got 1863rds skill.

She deliberatley brushes off Kim Dokja and doesn't acknowledge the weight of her actions in kaizenix, both waiting for 50 years and killing parts of herself over and over.

And I think this is the sort of mindset she had while telling Kim Dokja about 'creating' an avatar for the first time. She doesn't see the point in potraying herself as vulnerable, so she probably would obscure some details of that story, for example if she was on her knees clutching her head a la 1863rd turns Yoo Joonghyuk at the time. This would seem like a pointless detail to add when the point of the story was that her avatar ran off.

So FINALLY, here's my headcanon on what I think the original belief dissonance was for Han Sooyoung and how she got the Avatar skill.

The split happened very early on in the scenarios. And well, there is one obvious Big Event that might cause someone to have a mental breakdown/identity crisis. The first scenario. I think whoever Han Sooyoung killed, she couldn't deal with the fact she had become a murderer and 'exorcised' those memories - and so 1863 was born, with blood on her hands, in an already destroyed world.

[everythingmp3]

closest to heaven ✩

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

she has a hell of day but luckily you always know just how to take care of her when she comes home late at night.

authors note: this is a shorter thing (around 3k) bc I felt like trying that out for her! so this is nothing too elaborate, just based on the idea of being her younger gf and being sweet with her <3 it’s set in the world of the show but it doesnt matter that much, could be in any context

warnings: smut (both receiving, but a bit more focused on her), nothing else I can think of

it had been a particularly rough day for Tess.

everyone had managed to get on her last fucking nerve like it was their job: Joel and his constant mood-swings, the jerks she had to work with against her will, random people on the street who looked at her the wrong way, it all made her feel on edge and ready to snap if one more encounter left her feeling on edge. it didn’t help that she’d slept like hell and that she was dealing with a pounding headache, only made worse by the atrocious air quality and constant city noise.

at times, Tess felt like she was the only sane person left alive, unless she was with you.

her days were often filled with nothing but stress and dread, either handling deals or handling incompetent people or both; the rough streets of the QZ were hardly a place where anyone could relax, ever, so Tess felt like she had aged about three times as fast as she would have, had the outbreak never happened. chronic pain was nothing new to her, she’d gotten used to it: the aching knees, the pain in her right hip that never really went away, the back pain from one too many sleepless nights, the general physical exhaustion of a life that she’d have never willingly chosen for herself. 

still, she never complained to anyone about any of it, because she knew that they weren’t off much better than her, and she wanted nothing less than pity - Tess kept it under control and told herself to just push through it and get over herself, stuck in a cycle of “just get through the day” for years, but then, one day, things changed. 

romance was not something that had ever really been on her radar post-outbreak, she’d grown a bit cynical in that regard, refusing to open herself up to the devastation of misplacing her hope in potential lovers.

you had grown up in the same area in the QZ where she had settled down, and yet, you two had never properly met, not until one night when she saw you being bothered by some young assholes, whom she had already beaten up once before for messing with someone else.

after they took of, scared of earning themselves a black eye from her, or worse, she made sure that you were okay and walked you back to your place, waving off your gratitude and registering that you were very much her type.

she told you to be a bit more careful around that area next time, genuinely afraid of seeing you walk past her with an injury one day. you two immediately spoke the same language - it was undeniable, even a few minutes into knowing her, that there was some innate quality that you shared, so the air between you quickly became charged because you made each other laugh, genuinely, and felt the relief of finally speaking to a like-minded person. so, once you reached your apartment that night, you were forward enough to ask her to meet again, which she immediately agreed to, for once not hesitant at all about making new aquaintances. 

the next time you saw her, you ended up at her place and it was only a matter of time until the inevitable happened. it got late, you were on her couch, there was little else to distract yourself with, so you ended up kissing, which turned into making out, which turned into desperate touching, which turned into fucking. it all felt so right, that neither of you spent much time fighting it, the burning passion that erupted the moment you first touched. Tess was usually closed off and unwilling to share her private space, but not with you: about a month into your new relationship, she gave you her spare keys, so you could relax in her apartment and sleep in her bed whenever you wanted, since she loved the feeling of going home and knowing that there was a good chance that you’d already be there, waiting. 

that night, Tess was completely done with the world as she took the steps up to her apartment, the only saving grace being that she saw that the light in her bedroom was on when she opened the door. 

she quickly took off her shoes and threw her jacket over the couch, so she could finally join you. you perked up on your side of the bed when she walked in and quietly laughed to yourself as she dramatically dropped down onto the bed with an audible “ugh..” leaving her lips. 

you immediately crawled over to her, up to the task of getting her spirits up again. “rough day, hm?” you asked, smiling as you eyed her. Tess just shook her head in a way that said “you don’t even know”, but still grabbed your hand and squeezed it to signal that she was glad to be home, to be with you again.

“poor thing” you cooed, one hand on her face then, a light kiss to each of her cheeks, aware that she liked to be babied by you every once in a while, a barely suppressed grin from her then, her hand wandering to your back, rubbing up and down lighty. “hm, you smell good” she mused, almost a bit emotional from the sudden comfort of your presence, she went on “god I’m so ready to just spend the night with you and forget about everything else. thanks for being here, really, you make it all easier” she said, her eyes open again then, an earnestness to that statement.

you leaned down to kiss her, long enough for her heartbeat to be slowed by it. “damn, you’re tense” you said after, concerned, too in tune with her body to miss it, “a bit…” she admitted.

“should I help you relax, hm?” you asked, your tone dripping in suggestive sweetness, your hands slowly trailing down her sides, stopping at her inner thighs, eyeing her with unconcealed desire. before you, Tess had never been big on receiving, but the moment you got together, she realized just how long she had gone without companionship, and how much she needed it sometimes, to be taken care of like that after a rough day. 

“hm, yeah, I’d like that” she said, unable to pretend that she didn´t love the idea of getting head as a pain relief of some sort, since it always worked. “good. just relax, and let me take care of you, okay?” you said, while moving down to her legs and unzipping her jeans, letting her rest and stay down as you worked on getting her undressed, pulling her underwear down with trembling fingers because you were so desperate to get a taste. 

the moment you took your place between her legs, her hands were immediately in your hair, pushing it back a bit, making sure you could tell how much she liked having you there.

the sight of her alone was enough to turn you on: Tess laying on her back, her thick hair falling down her shoulders in pretty waves, her big arms spread out, her tired but intense gaze fixed on you, her thighs soft and muscular at the same time, a warmth and sweetness radiating from her, a distinct scent that always drove you wild.

it was something you took immense pleasure in: seeing a woman who was known as relentless and unforgiving, tough and impossible to win over, all soft and open, just for you, your gentle touch the only kind that could melt her freezing exterior. she was in a similar spot, achingly turned on from the way you looked up at her, all docile and submissive, unsure how she’d gotten lucky enough to get to come home to someone like you. 

you had the urge to kiss her all over her exposed skin, so you did, your lips tender on her thigh, as you massaged the other one, giving her a moment to relax and loosen up before you really got to it. Tess closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow, a deep sigh, “hm, always so sweet to me, baby”.

all of the stress and tension slowly left her body as you covered her thighs in heartfelt licks and kisses, small love-bites here and there, humming “I missed you today” against her skin while your hands rested on her hips, a faint smile from her “me too, trust me, you don’t even know.” a deep shudder as she grew hotter and hotter. “I’m gonna need a bit more now, sweetheart” she whispered then, tugging on your hair lightly, so you did as she said and moved your face to where she wanted you. 

the moment you kissed her cunt, her whole body shivered, in a good way, a groaned “fuck..” from her as you ran your tongue flat over her wetness, savoring it, the familiar salty taste of her, moaning quietly, as you slowly licked over her aroused lips, sucking and kissing them, working her up even more, until you couldn’t wait any longer and parted her, pushing your tongue deep inside and gripping her thighs as you started to build up a pace, dizzy with lust from the sensation of her slick heat all over your mouth. 

Tess’s fingers in your hair tightened and her breath grew  heavier and heavier by the second, interrupted by faint moans, “yeah, perfect, keep going” she encouraged while rocking against your tongue, the needy movements of her hips enough to make you lose your mind. 

she held you in place as her back arched up and her sounds became louder, Tess was stubborn and tried to hold it in, so it was a delicious challenge, to see how you could turn her into a mess, how you could make her lose her composure.

you added more pressure then, circling her clit, eventually sucking on it, hard, which elicited a pathetic cry from her, louder than she intended to, but she was gone by then, fully lost in the feeling of riding your tongue, blissed out, all the previous aches in her body completely gone, replaced by a deep, warm ease, her core throbbing in a deeply enjoyable way, completely soaked by that point, so wet that the perverse sounds of your actions filled the room.

you moved your face to add to the rhythm, to make it even more intense, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, her hands applying enough pressure to the back of your head to force you to stay buried in her cunt, unwilling to let you move even one inch as she could feel her orgasm approaching, whining “yes, right there, don’t stop” a sigh before she added “good girl, always so good for me”. the sound of that praise while she was using you to get off made you feel like you might just cum a the same time as her. 

a few minutes later, after giving it your all and feeling her squirm and struggle to stay in place, she pressed her thighs together, shamelessly, to have you fully trapped, cursing under her breath as came all over your mouth, her hips bucking erratically, your eyes closed and desperate, muffled moans escaping you. she made a fucking mess for you, your tongue still moving against her, obediently, eager to let her ride it out until she couldn’t take any more, giving her the power to end it, or keep it going, whatever she needed.

eventually, a deep final shudder went through her, after which she fell slack against the matress, a breathless “god…” as her grip on your hair loosened and she let you go. while Tess laid there, spent and flushed all over, high on the aftershocks, you gave her raw and sensitive clit a few last licks and kisses, indulging because she was too dazed to protest, squeezing her shaky thighs, before moving up to lay down next to her. 

after a moment of both of you trying to catch your breaths, Tess slowly came to her senses again and turned her head to smile at you, endeared by the way your chin glistened in the light, a brief swipe of her fingers to clean you up a bit. “you’re a bit too fucking good at that, you know” she sighed, blissed out, enamored by your sweet expression, that satisfied smile that always stayed frozen on your face for a few minutes after making her finish. 

“oh yeah?” you asked, your tone faux-innocent, your eyes soft with affection, as she caressed your cheek,“hmm, yeah. I don’t wanna use you like that too often but..”, you interrupted the thought before she could finish it, “oh, please do, any time. I love when you get like that, it’s hot”.

Tess shook her head, charmed by your insistence on being of service to her, “careful what you wish for”, you cocked your head, your fingers tracing patterns on her chest, “or what? you’ll ride my face til I suffocate?” you teased, wording it that bold on purpose. Tess raised her eyebrows, “sounds like you want me to”. 

a sly expression and shrug from you gave your answer away, so she pulled you closer, your head on her chest then, ruffling your hair lovingly, “well I don’t know if I deserve all of that. you’d really do anything to please me, huh?”.

it turned Tess on to think about it, how devoted you were to her, and the feeling was mutual, you loved proving to her over and over again how eager to surrender you were, so you nodded, “correct.”

Tess was usually the giver, gladly, but she had to admit that those moments when you let her get off however she wanted to, for as long as she wanted to, regardless of the strain it would put on your neck or jaw, were some of her fondest memories. perhaps because you obviously got off on it too, she wouldn´t have wanted you to go down on her if you were only doing it as a favor; nothing turned her on more than when your moans matched hers in volume even though you were the one fucking her.

it made her feel beautiful in a way, she wouldn´t have said it out loud, but she never felt more proud of how she looked than when you got all over her and practically devoured her. after you got together, Tess looked at her reflection in the mirror differently, trying to see what you saw, when you tore her shirt off, when you latched onto her skin like you needed it to sustain you, when you left faint purple marks on her inner thighs, that made her smile when she took a shower and caught a glimpse. having sex with you had become a way for Tess to heal, in many ways, which reflected how you felt whenever she put her hands on you and managed to calm your restless mind. 

you felt like messing with her a bit then, so you said “I mean, it’s only fair to make use of my young body to help my worn-out lover feel better”, she nudged you in the side, an offended gasp in response, “excuse me?”.

you´d pushed her buttons on purpose, she was nothing if not predictable, so in a second she got up and pushed you onto your back, on the empty side of the bed, climbing onto top of you, her hands on yours, pinning them down with force, staring at you, her tone low and intense, “you wanna see just how worn out I am? how weak and frail?”. she pushed her knee between your thighs as she said this, not very gently, a whine from you, followed by a pleased smile, your lips parted as the pressure against your pelvis forced an intense heat to your core. 

Tess could tell she had you where she wanted you, so she ran her thumb over your lower lip, eyeing you with a distinct hunger, that look hat always made you weak in the knees for her. “yeah I think it’s your turn now. you’re young and fit, you should be able to handle anything I do, right?”. 

Tess was fucking with you, exactly the way you liked it, “I can, yes” you whispered, aware that a certain cockiness would make her feel the need to leave you begging and crying for her, yet again, you knew her, and knew how to get exactly what you wanted. Tess didn´t need to be told twice, so she hastily pulled your top over your head and leaned down to suck on your tits, as she slipped her hand into your underwear and started jerking you off, only a taste of what was about to come, that thing she loved to do: switching between eating you out and fucking you until you’d come at least three times, until you were a whining mess.

the thing you loved most about the ways she pleased you, was the even when she was a bit rough with you, it always came from a place of love, a clear need to make you feel as good as possible, to leave you wrecked with satisfaction. 

as she started touching you and felt you giving into it, your eyes shut, sweet sighs filling the air, a firm grip of your hands on her shoulders to hold onto something, Tess was overcome with affection and leaned down to kiss your neck while teasing your clit, soft, almost reverent kisses that contrasted the intense pressure of her fingers.

she breathed in your scent and made her way up from your neck to your jaw to your cheek, before whispering “my pretty girl. all mine”, leaning in to give you a proper kiss afterwards, turned on from the way you were moaning all throughout it because she was touching you just right, her fingers eventually pushing into you to feel the full extent of the warm perfect mess you were making for her, her lips lingering on your face, her breath hot, her voice thick with lust “hm, feels good, doesn’t it?” - there it was. that confidence you’d fallen for. a nod from you as you clung to her, “yes… always”, deeply pleased by the familiar feeling of her fingers stretching you, hitting the right spot, glad to be under her again, exposed and vulnerable and all hers. 

the thing that Tess loved about being with you, was that any affection you showed her, left her feeling livelier and stronger. it had happened often by that point, that she’d come home exhausted and frustrated, ready to end the day early, only to discover that a few words and touches from you, could flip a switch and make her feel wide awake and content all of a sudden.

that day it was no different, she’d come home pissed off and tensed up, and not even an hour later, she was at peace again, reminded of all the good things about her life, mostly connected to you: the way you always waited for her to come back home, the way you tended to her, your ability to see her at her lowest and still make her feel lovable, desirable, the pleasure you took in making her relax and feel better, your generous smile, your soft hands, your gentle demeanor, everything about you.

after she made you finish with her fingers, she took her sweet time fully undressing you, peeling off your underwear and urging you to lay back and get comfortable, so she could show you just how grateful she was that you were her angel in that hellscape of a town, who had somehow ended up bestowing her warm light upon her, even though she felt unworthy of it at times. 

you could tell that every touch, every kiss on your body that night, was a wordless “I love you” from her, an endless prayer, one prolonged act of private worship.

after she drove you to a point of intense exhaustion with pleasure, almost getting a few tears from you because of how good it felt towards the end, Tess helped you shower, soaping up your weak limbs, kissing your wet shoulder as she stood behind you and shampooed your hair for you.

later, when you were both dressed in some of her freshly washed clothes, Tess held you tight against her chest, as you both drifted off, not thinking about anything else but each other’s warmth that soothed you into a shared, deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped up in the smell of burnt-down candles and the sound of your peaceful slow breaths: the sound of being safe, at home, fully at ease, knowing that your love would keep saving you, in a world that so rarely allowed anything that sacred to remain intact.

[cxffecoupx]

love languages: moon junhui

moon junhui × gn reader fluff warnings: reader is clumsy, mentions of food wc: 526 author's notes: took me a long while to write this ;-; tried to write some drabbles when i realised that i had no dialogues in my mind, just narratives. so i thought, why not complete this series?? and even that took me so much time. sorry for the wait, but i hope you like it❤️

acts of protection:–

you're clumsy. you're careless. which is exactly what worries him when he sees you bump into corners of tables or stub your toe on the chair or pretty much trip over air and fall face first. luckily for you, he's adapted. he magically appears right when you're about to reach a table and gently holds his hand out so that the hit is softer; he plasters the legs of the furniture with tape so that it doesnt hurt as much; and he's always there to hold you when you're flying onto the floor. you've prayed to all gods while you wait for the impact, but his hands on your hips never leave until you're standing sure again.

"junie? did you see my keys-" the next thing seungkwan (who was over at your house so you two could grab lunch together) sees, is the said junhui spawn out of nowhere just as you were about to bump into a table. he places one hand at the edge of the table and offers you the keys with his other hand. "there you go, baby."

words of admiration:–

and in the most subtle way. he loves you very dearly. and that shows the way he compliments you in the most random times. what makes it even special is that he speaks in chinese. it's not something he does consciously. you could be wearing a beautiful dress and he'd mutter under his breath in chinese about how elegant you look. or you could be doing the most trivial, questionable thing that he finds especially adorable, and he'd just giggle and whisper "how cute" under his breath.

jun and you were out with the boys for an outing, and currently he's sitting with myungho and seungcheol, watching you run around popping bubbles that chan was blowing. he has the faintest smile on his face as he mutters "adorable" so silently that seungcheol doesnt even catch it. but myungho hears it, and he's happy to see his hyung in love.

cooking:–

one thing junhui loves to do is cook food for the people he loves. he doesnt even need a reason for it. what makes cooking extra special for him is the reaction you give him. you could be sleeping late on a sunday morning and he's entering the bedroom with a tray in his hands, holding all sorts of delicious, sweet smelling food that wakes you up right away. or on special days when you prefer a quiet celebration, jun is happy to pour some extra love into the dinner he's preparing for the both of you to have together. you melt every time you taste his preparations, and just seeing you satisfied eating his food is enough to make him happy.

the moment you enter the house, you are carried to the kitchen by the most delicious of smells. in the kitchen, you find junhui deeply focused in stirring a pot of boiled broth. he smiles when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. "here, i made you some special seaweed soup for your birthday." “special?” “yeah, cause i put some extra love in it.”