#its for everything like. good and bad about a person

[book-lore]

Okay so I wasn't going to reply to this but I am still getting over being sick and this stuck to me. And for the record, it's okay that the OP feels this way and what I'm about to say doesn't mean they are wrong or bad or anything. Let's leave that person in peace. But as to why people don't like Valentine's day and some people even hate it, a gentle reminder:

There are a wide variety of reasons people can find certain holidays objectionable and one that tackles love specifically can be especially difficult for people who are struggling. A recent divorcee might wish to sit this day out because it can bring up how difficult being newly out of a relationship can be. This can be made even worse if the relationship was decades long and they aren't sure how to navigate the world of being single that looks nothing like when they were dating before. People who struggle socially who want relationships can find this to be a day that makes them feel a little more lonely. People who have lost a partner might feel their absence more acutely, even if that loss was years ago. People who have escaped abusive situations might have extremely mixed or hostile feelings about Valentines day (especially given how violent partners tend to become worse around holidays and this is extra true where the abused party is expected to behave a certain way). People who are in the closet might be feeling particularly confused or wounded right now as they feel worlds away from being able to accept or even find love.

The point of this isn't to drag the original poster, but it can be good to understand why sometimes hearts can be delightful for some and heavy for others. I know that some people can be well intentioned and say things like "think of the chocolate and candy" or "it's made up anyway" or "celebrate it with your friends instead", but those aren't really helpful. Love and its reminders can mean a lot of things to people and sometimes they bring up the bad emotions. Sometimes what people need isn't candy or hearts or even a pretend reason to see a friend. Sometimes they need to cry and a day that reminds them of loss or something they lack is what does it for them. Sometimes what they need is to know that they aren't the only one who feels like that when stores and displays and everything around them seems to point out what's making them feel sore.

It's okay to enjoy Valentine's Day. There are plenty of ways to do so if that's what you like. It's also okay to sit it out if you're sore or you're feeling a lot. It's alright if it's just another day in February.

dont understand people who "don't like" valentines day... I personally dgaf that its "made up" and "commercialist"... i love heart shaped things and i love everyone in my life. Its really simple

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

[hannieehaee]

LO$ER=LO♡ER

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 14k

a/n: this was my fave concept to write so far honestly hehe

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

"Hey, Jihoon, do you think you could help me with this?", you asked him on Monday.

After spending all weekend thinking about you, Monday finally came. He was unsure as to whether or not your friendly behavior would continue onto your second week, when you were more settled in. In the usual cold and reserved fashion he'd adopted for the past decade, he avoided you most of the morning. When he saw you in the elevator upon arriving at the office, he stalled, waiting for the door to close so he wouldn't have to share the ride with you. He hadn't wanted to avoid you so blatantly, but apparently his past trauma had taken control of his body at the time.

If you noticed, he hadn't realized. He hoped you hadn't.

And now, a few hours into the day, you were asking for his help, and even his anxieties couldn't prevent him from helping you. He wanted to be good to you. At the moment, it was what he wanted most. He was unsure as to why.

He got up, hands fidgeting together as he took the few steps over to your desk, awkwardly standing next to your seat as you turned towards the computer on screen. Taking a few steps closer, he cleared his throat, standing right behind you and leaning down in order to check out whatever was on screen before you began to explain.

"So sorry to bother you, Jihoon! I, uh, I was just wondering what I should do when I get this pop-up? I tried looking over the manual, but I couldn't find anything," you pointed over at the screen, eyes still on it, "It's just-"

Jihoon invertedly leaned closer, eyes also on the screen. As soon as he looked at what was on display, he locked in, fully focused on the issue at hand.

Surprisingly even to himself, Jihoon enjoyed his job. He was amazing at it, and getting to help you out was just a bonus.

"Oh, yeah. It's a glitch. It happens sometimes. Here, let me just ..."

Without thinking, he interrupted you, hands taking over your mouse and keyboard as he leaned impossibly closer without realizing it. His head was right next to yours, but since he was too focused on the task at hand, he did not have the realization to be flustered at the proximity. And then he fucked up even further.

Continuing to help you, he began rambling out explanations about what he was currently doing on screen. He rambled on and on, showing you step by step how to handle the issue and adding on extra details the average person would not concern themselves with. He was so into it, he didn't realize he went on for a good five minutes, all while you sat next to him, staring quietly at the screen as you watched his every move.

That was until he was abruptly interrupted.

"Jesus Christ, Jihoon, you're going to make the girl never want to ask for help again," Doyle's voice suddenly rang through, a mocking yet patronizing tone wrapped around every word.

Jihoon's movements halted when he heard a few giggles from other coworkers resounding at Doyle's statement. Slowly, he backed his hands away from the mouse, barely registering how close he was to you when his face turned to your own, finding you looking at him with a worried look on your face — he couldn't decipher what it meant, but he was too embarrassed to even think of it.

He jumped back at the proximity, mumbling out an apology with a bow of his head.

"S-sorry, I-"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine, Jihoon, we all know you get a little over excited sometimes," Doyle leaned over the other side of the desk, "Don't mind him, Y/N. You'll learn to tune out his rambling at some point, we've all had to — that, or you'll go crazy."

Doyle turned around after that, throwing a wink over at you that, for some reason, made Jihoon wince.

Yeah, okay. He was a fucking loser, he was well aware. The reminder felt like overkill at this point in his life.

Like a dog with his tails between his legs, Jihoon looked down, giving you one last pathetic 'sorry' before turning away. Not even chancing a single glance your way after Doyle's interruption, he preferred to save himself further embarrassment and left the room altogether. He had done most of his work and lunch was close. Taking an early lunch seemed like the best idea.

Hastily, he grabbed the lunch bag under his desk and walked towards the exit, ears barely registering a faint 'Jihoon' coming from the direction he had just left.

~

Today, he'd chosen to leave the office for lunch.

Well, not really. He'd just stepped outside, finding some empty bench in front of the building to sit at. It wasn't like he could eat at his desk as per usual when everyone else was still there. He just couldn't stay there after being shut down like that in front of you.

All things considered, it hadn't been the most embarrassing thing to happen to him, but it still left him feeling like an absolute loser.

The worst of it all had been that you'd seen it all and hadn't even reacted.

It's not like he had expected you to stand up for him. Hell, you barely knew him. Maybe it was just easiest to engage with the majority; to laugh along when Doyle made a joke, joining in on the muted laughter of all his other coworkers any time Jihoon was used as the butt of some joke.

Except that you didn't laugh. Jihoon didn't even register your reaction before leaving, instead reacting in the same fashion as a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Fuck, you probably thought he was a fucking baby on top of already thinking of him as some defenseless loser. Jihoon wanted to blame it all on Doyle, but it was also his fault.

"Jihoon?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden voice, startling him into squeezing his hands around the unbitten sandwich he'd been holding this whole time.

Turning to the voice, he found you standing there, paper bag in hand as you hesitated walking closer.

When he turned to you, mouth agape in surprise at your sudden appearance, you took a few steps forward, likely taking his silence as an okay. Like a fish out of water, he opened and closed his eyes a few times, unknowing of what to say. He really hadn't expected you to follow him out.

Dropping his sandwich, he cursed at himself. He attempted to catch it, but his hand to eye coordination had never been the best, so it just resulted in him fumbling his hands like an idiot before his sandwich met its demise on the dirty floor.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard," you apologized, rushing to the floor in front of him, squatting in front of him as you picked up his fallen lunch.

"I-It's fine, I-"

"No, Jihoon, I've already ruined your day enough, fuck. And now your lunch is ruined," you sounded genuinely disappointed, "Here, we can share my lunch! I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

You remained kneeling in front of him as he sat on the bench. Jihoon cringed at knowing your skirt would get dirty at its contact with the floor but you didn't seem to care. Instead, you looked up at him with worry towards him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your bottom lip stuck out a bit in a small pout. It was both adorable and nerve-wracking.

"Please get up, you'll get your skirt dirty," was all he found himself saying.

Jihoon caught you chuckling under your breath before getting up, dusting your skirt and then taking a seat next to him. The distance you allowed between the two of you was too small for Jihoon's well-being, but a part of him deep down was happy about him.

You looked down at your lap for a bit, so did Jihoon. The two of you were quiet for a few seconds, but Jihoon was unsure why. You appeared to be bashful, perhaps even a little shy? It was strange to see. There was no reason for you to feel shy around Jihoon. He was the mess here. He was the one who should be avoiding eye contact, hiding himself away from you to ensure he didn't ruin things between you — Things, as if the two of you were anything at all. He was overthinking things again.

"Jihoon," you interrupted his train of thought.

"Hmm? Yeah?"

Idiot.

"I, uhm, I'm sorry about what happened back there," you began. Jihoon almost interrupted you, shaking his head and raising his hands to halt you, but you shook your own head, continuing, "I should've said something. I know I'm new, but god, Doyle's such an idiot. You didn't deserve that, especially since it was my fault. I'm really sorry."

Your eyes showed nothing but sincerity as you spoke. A certain worry reflected in your face, making Jihoon's heart soar, crumbling with some sort of guilt he didn't understand.

He had no idea how to react.

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I didn't- It's not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel like-"

"What? No, Jihoon, I'm apologizing. You just wanted to help me and I wasn't appreciative. I should've told Doyle to get fucked," you put your lunch bag aside, scooting over a little closer and hesitating a bit before grabbing onto one of his hands, "I'm really sorry. I hope this doesn't hurt our friendship."

"Friendship?"

You flushed at his question, "Yeah, I, uh, aren't we friends? I know it's only been a few days, but-"

"Yes! We're friends, I'm sorry," you gave him a look, "Right, sorry, force of habit. Fuck, okay, I'll stop now," his hand itched in yours as you chuckled at him, "I ... Thank you. It's really nice of you to come check up on me. Don't, uh, feel like you have to stand up for me. Doyle's just ... well, what you said. I wouldn't want you to get picked on too."

"Don't worry about that, Jihoon. He wouldn't do that. He likes me," you revealed casually.

"What?"

"He asked me out last Friday, but I turned him down."

Jihoon's hand tightened around yours without him realizing. That revelation made him feel something he'd never felt before. It was as if his heart dropped while his jaw tightened. It might've been annoyance, but it felt stronger than that. Doyle? Doyle liked you? That bit was not shocking to Jihoon. But the fact that he'd asked you out surprised him. Did he have no care for you as a coworker? You were new, for god's sakes! What you needed was guidance, a friend, a colleague willing to walk you through the work like he needed back when he first started. Yet Doyle was instead choosing to-

"Jihoon? Are you okay?"

Fuck. He'd been rambling internally again. If Jihoon had a nickel for every time he embarrassed himself in front of you ..

"Yeah, uhm, sorry. Just, uh, don't really get along very well with Doyle."

"Can't imagine why," you said sarcastically, "Is there a story behind it?"

Your hand left his own at some point during your conversation, instead going to empty out your paper bag and absentmindedly split the sandwich you had in there. Without saying anything, you offered him a half, smiling in encouragement when he hesitated to take it.

"I, uh, it's nothing. Just dumb workplace drama," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I'm just not too good at standing up for myself."

That sure was a way to downplay it. But Doyle truly wasn't the sole culprit to Jihoon's history with alienation. This had been his entire life. Jihoon had grown far too accustomed to being harassed in every way imaginable. From alienation, to physical beatings, to even having his life threatened, Jihoon had gone through it all. Back in his youth, he wondered if it'd been something he'd done. If maybe he was just unlikable and that was why everyone either avoided him or attempted to make his life even more miserable. As he grew, he began to wonder if perhaps it'd been due to growing up without any proper socialization. His parents had, well, not really existed — something which pained him to think about — which left him sad and alone for most of his upbringing. This was probably why he was never able to properly interact with other people, leaving him as an easy and defenseless target.

It wasn't a secret to Jihoon that he was weird. And even that was an understatement. As a young boy, he was always into things that most people found strange. He was too focused on books and anything that could expand his intellect. This was followed by his incessant need to babble about his niche interests to anyone willing to listen (which was usually no one). He quickly into his teenage years that this was not welcomed by people — usually learning it through patronizing teasing or some classmates taking on physical means to shut him up. Unfortunately, even as an adult, he'd continued to make this mistake, thinking that maybe he'd meet people who enjoyed his eccentric personality without shutting him down. He'd done it at this same job, immediately learning that his input (or his personality in general) were not very well appreciated.

"But that's still not okay, he shouldn't-"

"Hey, it's fine, really," he smiled at you, "It's more than enough that you'd wanna, uh," he hesitated, "that you'd want to be my friend. You know, with all things considered."

"Are you kidding? You're easily the funnest person in the office," you moved past the subject, likely understanding it was a sore spot for him, "Everyone else is kind of stuck up, honestly."

"Hmm, yeah? I can believe that."

He went on to take a bite from the sandwich you'd offered him, humming at finally being able to fulfill some of his hunger.

"What, they're mean to you but you won't even say anything bad about them?" you gaped at him.

He shrugged, "It's not productive. I don't hate them."

"Wow. You're a way better person than I am, Lee Jihoon," you sounded impressed as you said it.

And that was more than good enough for him.

Jihoon's friendship with you continued to flourish during the upcoming months after that.

Any other instance in which Jihoon would've usually cowered under the targeted disdain of his coworkers was instead met with your intervention. You'd usually interrupt, somehow turning the conversation away from him or even subtly shooting back against whoever had decided to snark at Jihoon.

The first few times had him blushing an embarrassing shade of red, stammering as he attempted to respond or even just appear normal at what had just occurred. He'd never experienced someone standing up for him, much less did he feel like he deserved it. Having your presence in such uncomfortable circumstances was more than enough to aid him, but knowing that you wanted to defend him made his heart go crazy.

Within the short time that he'd known you, it was obvious to Jihoon that, against all his attempts to prevent it, he'd developed a crush on you.

Under any other set of circumstances, that might've been fine. However, Jihoon had never in his life been under normal circumstances.

Crushing on you was entirely too terrifying. You were the most perfect girl he'd ever met — the only girl he'd allowed himself to be interested in in far too many years. He knew deep within him that he could not allow these feelings to continue flourishing, but he had never been quite good at burying his emotions.

It felt so high school. All of it. He was the loser outcast and you were the pretty cheerleader the quarterback was chasing after. The only difference was that unlike in high school, you were giving him the time of day.

Back in school, any time Jihoon found himself liking a girl, he was never met with reciprocation. Which was fine, of course. There were a few instances, though, in which it went further than lack of reciprocation, or even just rejection. Jihoon would need more than two hands to count the amount of romantic humiliations he'd undergone in his life.

There had been instances where he was confessed to as a joke, or even times when he was led to believe his feelings were mutual, only to be rejected in some cruel way. It felt like out of a movie at times.

Jihoon supposed he couldn't really blame others for their childish games. He was an easy target, lacking any familial or any sort of adult protection during his youth. Plus, he knew his victimhood was only a phase of these people's lives.

It was strange, however, that staying at the bottom of the totem pole throughout his life just seemed to become normalcy for him. He expected that once he grew, got a respecting job and found more friends that he'd move up in social hierarchy — or at least stop being metaphorically beaten down at every turn (he was at least grateful that the beatings were now metaphorical rather than literal).

You were the complete opposite of him.

In the time he'd known you, he'd come to find out that your life up until now had been nothing short of picture-perfect. You made friends easily in the office, even befriending people outside of your department you had no obligation of interacting with. And this was not new to you. You'd let Jihoon in on your childhood, telling him about your years as a cheerleader in high school, even riding that cheerleader wave all the way to college. Your entire life had been spent happy and surrounded by people who enjoyed your company.

Yet, somehow, your company of choice had become Jihoon.

Being chosen, wanted — even if just platonically — was something Jihoon had never experienced. His brain would override every single time he saw you, attempting both to not fuck things up between you and to leave his crush dormant.

This proved incredibly difficult at times. Any time you subtly stood up for him, or any time you smiled at him before leading him outside for lunch (at the bench that had now become your place. Yours and Jihoon's) together, or even when you'd simply scoot your chair slightly closer to his own during meetings, Jihoon felt himself sink deeper and deeper. His heart and his brain were constantly working against each other.

Tonight would be his hardest battle as of yet.

The two of you had yet to see each other outside of work in the past two months you'd known each other. This was fine to Jihoon. More than fine, actually. It gave him time away from you to recover from the palpitations your mere presence caused him (which required quite a lot of time).

Tonight, however, was the in which night he'd begrudgingly agreed to join you and the rest of your department on a night out.

Apparently these happened every few weeks. Jihoon had never known about them. Figures.

You were an active participant of these outings, usually insisting that Jihoon tag along, that you'd be there and would not leave his side (God help him). He'd even come to find that his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would be there. The realization that he was such a hermit that he didn't even know his closest friends hung out outside of work without him did bother him a little.

And so he agreed. Against his better judgment, he let your pout and your wide eyes talk him into going to a bar with people (mostly) he knew hated him.

~

Jihoon had been unsure of how to dress.

When he'd texted Mingyu about it, he'd been met with a three-way call between him, Gyu and Soonyoung celebrating his first social outing in months. And then he'd been berated about showing off his 'assets,' whatever that meant.

Sure, Jihoon knew he was more fit than the average person, but this was something he usually felt shy about. He believed himself to be overcompensating for everything else he lacked in his person, both physical and personality-wise. So, it was safe to say that most of his clothes did not show off his assets.

Still, he made the attempt to follow both Mingyu's and Soonyoung's advice when it came to dressing up. Even if his crush was currently forced down a basement and locked away, he still had some dumb desire of impressing you.

You impressed him every day, whether you meant to or not. There was no dress code at his company, but formal attire was pretty much the norm, and you ... you worked with it quite amazingly, if Jihoon had anything to say. From the pencil skirts to the perfectly tailored dress shirts and blouses, you always left Jihoon working overtime to avert his eyes to more respectable places.

And so today he wanted to impress you. Donning some tighter jeans than usual (to show off his lust-worthy legs, had said Soonyoung) and a dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to give way to his chest (which Mingyu had called 'sculpted to the gods'), Jihoon moved on to his hair. He'd come to realize that unlike most other people, you really liked his hair. You constantly complimented the length and the pale tone of it. Bleaching his hair was something he'd started to do once he graduated college. He wanted some sort of separation away from his hometown when he'd moved away to work at the company, and despite the constant negative feedback, he'd decided to keep it.

He opted to let it down tonight, diffusing it after washing it to ensure some volume and a slight wave to it.

He looked fine, he thought. Jihoon didn't have any particular positive opinion about his appearance, but at least he'd gone from thinking himself a hideous hermit to simply okay. But according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, who'd offered to drive him, he looked like sex waiting to happen.

Blushing, Jihoon was unsure as to whether he wanted that to come true or not.

~

The hardest part had been arriving at the bar.

You were the first person he spotted as he and his friends walked in. The place was packed with members of your office, people he'd only seen in passing as he made his way over to his floor gathered with coworkers he wished he didn't know as well as he did.

But all of that left his mind immediately upon registering it. You were his priority. And everyone else's it seemed. Various men in your vicinity had their eyes on you, Doyle included.

Jihoon couldn't blame them. How in the world could he when you looked like that?

You were completely ignorant to any of the attention you were receiving. Standing by the bar, you were nursing a drink, leaning your body against it and giving Jihoon (and everyone else) the perfect view of your form. The slip dress you were wearing was shorter than the usual skirts you wore at school, allowing your legs to receive the well-deserved attention of anyone willing to appreciate the beauty before them.

This was the most skin Jihoon had seen of you. It made him feel like a depraved pervert to stand there and just stare, but he was hypnotized. The fleeting thought of getting to do more than just see passed through his mind, sending shivers down his spine. He had to shake his head to remove any filthier thoughts from entering his mind. He felt embarrassed and idiotic involving you in such thoughts. A sad, lonely virgin using his one and only female friend to feed himself with such thoughts was incredibly sick and deprived and-

"Dude, stop drooling. You haven't even said hi yet."

Mingyu nudged at him, breaking him away from his trance at once. Jihoon shook his head again to reset, coughing awkwardly as he attempted to negate what Mingyu had said, only to be interrupted by the other guy he'd arrived with.

"You look like sex on legs, man. Go talk to her. We'll go find a table. Come find us if you fuck everything up somehow," Soonyoung received a swift punch to his shoulder at his comment, but shrugged it off as he gave Jihoon thumbs up, walking away with Mingyu.

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon walked over to you, finding you still distracted by your drink.

Before he could even announce his presence, you sensed him, turning back and immediately offering him a wide smile. Good, you were happy to see him.

"Jihoon!," you left your drink on the counter to engage with him in a hug. His arms hovered over your waist, avoiding direct contact both for his sanity and out of respect.

Physical contact had never been Jihoon's forte. Usually he'd need some sort of warning ahead of time in order to mentally prepare himself. When it came to you, he so badly wanted his proclivity against physical touch to burn and die in a fire. He found himself craving your hug the moment you pulled away.

"I honestly thought you wouldn't come," you chuckled.

"I promised I'd come," he smiled back.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink. On me," you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender before turning back to him, "You don't seem like a big drinker. Is a beer okay?", he nodded at you as you handed him the drink.

The two of you leaned against the bar after that, letting silence between you consume you. Jihoon wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time he'd seen a girl outside of work in ... well, ever. And it wasn't just any girl — it was you.

"You look beautiful," he braved, finishing it off with an awkward cough.

Your body turned to his, a shy smile being hidden behind a lip bite, "Yeah? High compliment coming from you."

"H-hmm?"

"Jihoon, you look amazing," you emphasized, "I had no idea you were hiding all this under those baggy suits," your hands went to play with the neck of his collar, "Maybe unbutton it one more?", you said as you did so, "There, that's better."

Jihoon burned up. A tomato's red shade could not compare to how red his ears must've been at that moment. He flushed, breath hitching at your fingers gracing the skin of his chest. All he could do was clear his throat and advert his eyes, awkwardly smiling and nodding at you.

"You're cute," you giggled.

"Uhm, are you drunk?", he couldn't help in asking.

You giggled again, "I'm not, Jihoon. Is it that hard to believe I find you cute? Because you are. I don't know how you don't realize. You've been getting eye-fucked by those girls over there since you walked in," you pointed behind him, leading him to find two girls attempting at subtly looking his way, whispering among each other.

"O-oh, uhm, I'm sure that's not what they're doing," he stumbled, flushed.

"Uh-huh. Anyways, c'mon. I hate hanging out at the bar. Let's find a table," you grabbed onto his wrist then, pulling him towards the back of the bar.

On his way to the table of your choosing, he spotted his two friends, receiving a childish thumbs up from Soonyoung and a mouthed 'my man!' from Mingyu. He groaned internally, shaking his head and frowning at them. Once you made it to an empty table, you even commented on it.

"Those are Soonyoung and Mingyu, right? I'd never actually met them before. Come here with them?"

"Oh, yeah. I- ignore them, they're just being dumb," he scoffed lightly.

His hands laid flat on the table, unknowing of what to do with them. Your demeanor was way more relaxed than his own. It was clear to anyone around that you could blend into any environment. Jihoon, in the meantime, had trouble adjusting practically anywhere, especially at a social pool such as a bar.

"It's fine, Jihoonie, they're just rooting for you," you winked at him before enveloping the straw of your own drink in your mouth.

Jihoon decided not to overthink that (or maybe save it for later), also swinging at his own drink to avoid more awkward words leaving his mouth. He wasn't even sure why he was being such a socially inept mess. The two of you had had long-winded conversations at work many times before, maybe it was just the current setting. It felt the way he assumed a date would, except that it wasn't.

"Hmm, can I have a sip? My drink's too sweet. Here, have a taste," you went to grab at his beer, shoving your pink drink to his side of the table.

Looking down at the straw, he noticed the red shimmer of your lipstick on it, gulping at the thought of letting his lips touch it. But before he could psych himself out, he did it.

Before actually sipping at the drink, he allowed himself taste the lipstick. It was a sick and depraved thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. If this was as much of you as he could have, then he'd take it. The cherry tang it left on his lips made it worth it, but he couldn't let himself to enjoy it for too long. The drink itself had been entirely too sweet, causing his nose to scrunch up, which immediately earned a giggle from across the table.

"Sweet, huh? I should've gone for a beer, but I figured you wouldn't mind sharing," you shrugged as you took another swing of it, handing it back afterwards.

Now his eyes landed on his own beer bottle, eyeing that same glimmer on the mouth of the bottle. Without thinking of it, he took an swing of it, dropping the bottle too harshly back on the table before looking back at you. There, his eyes couldn't help but finding your lips. He tried being subtle, but he seemed to be lacking that skill at the moment.

"Oh, is my lipstick smudged?," your hand went up to your mouth. You fished your purse for a compact mirror and a set of two tubes, smiling at him before beginning to reapply, "It's such a hassle. That's why I never wear darker lip products at work," you said mostly to yourself. Then, you turned to him, plumping your lips before smiling, "How's it look?"

There was absolutely no way you weren't hitting on him. Jihoon may have been an absolute idiot when it came to any social interaction, but he was sure you'd been hinting at something all night. Right?

This was the perfect moment for him to flirt back. To compliment you, to woo you and make his interest known. If any moment was tailored for such a thing, it was this one. Jihoon just needed to grow some balls for once and be assertive.

However, that is not what he did.

Instead of coming up with some charming one-liner, Jihoon instead stumbled over his words, delivering a mixture of 'uhm, yea!' and 'looks great!,' completely emotionless while also awkward.

Fortunately for Jihoon, all you did was giggle in return. It sometimes felt both demeaning and like a relief when you'd giggle in return to his awkwardness. He hoped to elicit different reactions out of you, but that fault fell completely on him.

You eyed the bar behind him, causing him to turn back. There was a small area that was supposed to make up a dancefloor. This wasn't exactly a club, but the dancing scene appeared pretty turned up. Jihoon could even spot his two friends on the dancefloor with some girls unknown to him.

When his head turned back to face you, you smiled at him, opening your mouth to speak. Jihoon could see where this was going.

"Hey, Jihoon. Wanna dance with me?"

You were grinning as you asked. That overexcitement that was usually present on your face was there once more. Disappointing you with a rejection was the very last thing Jihoon wanted to do. It was literally how he'd ended up out tonight.

But, still, his idiocy knew no limits, apparently.

"Oh, uh, I- I don't dance," he stammered, "Sorry."

He went back to nursing his drink, eyes avoiding yours and closing off from further questions. When he looked back up, he was mortified to find some dejection in your eyes.

He needed to salvage this. He was a good enough dancer. He had no idea why he'd even said no in the first place.

"I, uh, actually, I could-"

"Hey, beautiful. If he won't dance, I'll take you out for a spin. I'll give her back in a bit, Jihoon, don't worry."

Jihoon's abrupt interruption was, of course, delivered by Doyle. Why he had been close enough to make out your conversation, Jihoon had no idea. It irritated him, though. That was for damn sure.

Jihoon knew you wouldn't say yes to him. After the endless lunch breaks you'd spent together, you'd become privy to Doyle's treatment of Jihoon. And although you never once actually acted on the negative feelings that had inspired against Doyle, you had still expressed to Jihoon how much such things had dampened your view of him.

What Jihoon hadn't considered, though, had been the very frustrating concept of peer pressure making an appearance.

A few other coworkers at a nearby table started to instigate, encouraging you to go join Doyle. Claims that he was a great dancer and that you'd look good out there together were thrown around. Each comment made Jihoon sink more and more into his seat. At some point, one of the girls in your neighboring cubicles even walked over to you, grabbing your hand to further encourage you to accept Doyle's offer.

You appeared troubled. From Jihoon to Doyle to the girls, you looked back and forth, mouth opening and closing without an actual response leaving you. An uncomfortable smile was on your lips the entire time.

It was obvious to Jihoon you simply did not want to leave him to his own devices. You'd promised so, after all. So he decided to take you out of your misery.

Getting up, he cleared his throat, "Go ahead. I, uh, I'll just go hang out with Gyu and Soon. I kinda ditched them earlier."

He added a little white lie to really sell it. His friends wanted him to stay with you, but he didn't want to force you to not have fun. He had his chance, twice, and stupidly missed it.

"See? Jihoon's busy. This isn't really his scene anyway. C'mon," and so Doyle managed to pull you away.

As you walked away, you turned back to Jihoon, but he was faster. You mentioned going to find him after you were done, but Jihoon tuned it out. Walking away in order to get to his friends, he could hear a short exchange between a few comments made by some coworkers. They weren't anything new, but they still bothered him at this moment.

"They'd made such a cute couple, huh?"

"Yeah! I heard Y/N was head cheerleader in high school. Doyle used to be a quarterback. It's literally like fanfiction."

"Yeah. Jihoon, though ... I don't think that'd work. He's too fucking awkward."

"A bit of a weirdo too. She's out of his league."

And then he was out of earshot.

He found Soonyoung sitting by some table near the entrance quick enough, he thanked god for that. He needed to at least not be alone right now.

"Dude! What are you doing here? What happened to your girl?", Soonyoung was quick to question.

Jihoon shrugged, taking a seat dejectedly.

"Oh, shit, man. I'm sorry," Soonyoung caught on, patting Jihoon on the back, "What happened?"

Jihoon simply gestured north of him, directing Soonyoung's eyes to the dancefloor you were currently at. You'd quickly warmed up to the mood, a smile gracing your face as you danced along with a few of the girls from the office. The silver lining was that you weren't actually dancing with Doyle as originally intended, but rather dancing near him. Still, Jihoon could see Doyle occasionally make his way to you and try to subtly get you to dance with him.

"Fuck. It's that asshole Doyle, huh? I'm sorry, man."

"What happened?", Mingyu suddenly showed up, sweaty and out of breath.

"That dick Doyle took Hoonie's girl," this was met with a frown and an expletive from Mingyu.

"She's not my girl. She's not my anything," Jihoon grumbled, "I think I'll just go home."

Getting up, he was stopped by Mingyu, pleading he stay and have fun. Similar complaints were given by Soonyoung. But neither were enough for Jihoon to want to stay. He'd been an idiot and done nothing to even try and match your energy. It was no wonder you left at the first chance you had.

"I only came to hang out with her," Jihoon sighed sadly, "I'll just see you guys next weekend, okay? Have fun without me."

He hugged each goodbye, disregarding their pouts and heading out. He didn't bother looking back, not wanting to sadden himself even more.

"You're lying to me."

Both Mingyu and Soonyoung stared at Jihoon like puppies awaiting a treat. Their metaphorical tails were practically wagging. It was unnerving. Especially because of the subject at hand.

Jihoon had decided to take the Monday off. He'd decided to grovel over what happened. After what happened last night, he felt like a complete loser facing you at work. Like an idiot, he'd let his feelings get all muddled and made himself believe that maybe you had some interest in him. Only to immediately fuck things up and leave you alone with the guy who was his literal antithesis. Not only that, but he'd left you there without even saying goodbye despite having agreed to be there for the sole reason of being with you.

After four o'clock, Jihoon should've known that his two nosey friends would come find him. It was rare for Jihoon to miss work, so their sudden knocking a few hours after clocking out was predictable.

However, they'd been the ones to shock Jihoon. They had shit-eating grins when he'd let them in. They'd managed to sit through a quick lunch prepared by Jihoon before spilling what had them in such an annoying mood.

"Dude, she came looking for you after you left," had said Mingyu.

"She looked sad as fuck when we told her you left! Then today when you didn't show up to work, she-" then Soonyoung was interrupted by an overexcited Mingyu.

"She asked us for your address, dude! Came all the way to accounting all shy and shit and asked if we thought it'd be okay if you stopped by," Mingyu had finished.

Jihoon spent a few minutes in surprised silence after that. The belief that they were playing a prank on him was the most logical to him.

"Dude, we're not lying!," Soonyoung exclaimed, nudging Mingyu so he'd confirm his statement.

"Yeah, she said she'd stop by in a few hours. We had to clock out early to come warn you."

"You clocked out early cause you hate working," Jihoon rebutted."

"Okay, two things can be true at once."

"Anyways, she'll be here at any moment. So you should doll yourself up for her. I have no idea what she may want, but-"

Mingyu interrupted this time, "Are you kidding? They're gonna fuck. It's going to be a k-drama moment and then they'll seal the deal."

Soonyoung made an O face and gave Gyu a high-five. The children in front of Jihoon were beginning to drive him insane. And usually he would've scolded them, but their words were making him too anxious to think.

Suddenly, Jihoon got up, ushering them out.

"Okay, get the hell out of here. I need to be ready for her, fuck. Fuck. I should've just gone to work today, I'm such an idiot," he groaned to himself, beginning to pick up their plates so he could tidy up the place a bit.

"Dude, calm down. It'll be fine. Clearly she cares if she's coming to check up on you after just one day of you being gone," Soonyoung reasoned, "Whatever happened to a phone call anyway?"

"This is the romantic way to do it, Soon, c'mon."

Mingyu shrugged in agreement, now dragging Soonyoung along with him towards the exit. Their goodbyes were as prolonged as per usual, but Jihoon was eventually able to get them out of his apartment.

Jihoon rushed to make the place as tidy as possible, even fixing himself up as best as he could whilst also looking casual. The hardest hurdle was coming up with non-pathetic reasons as to why he'd left in such a rush last night and why he had skipped work altogether.

How was he supposed to explain that he was a sensitive, good for nothing, pathetic, loser piece of-

But there was a knock before he could even finish a single thought.

He knew who was on the other side, even if he tried to will you away by purely praying to get himself out of this situation.

"Jihoon? I know you're in there," you called out from outside, "I saw Mingyu and Soonyoung leave work early today. I assume they came over to warn you I'd be coming."

Fuck, you were too smart.

There were too many good things about you. And Jihoon would've loved nothing more than to take a few hours to think about all those things, but he had your actual presence to deal with at that moment.

With a deep breath, he walked over to the door, opening it and finding you standing on the other side of it. You were still wearing your usual office ensemble, meaning you'd come directly from work.

"Jihoon," you breathed out. There was a mixture of relief and worry in your tone.

"Uhm, come in," he moved aside to allow you in.

Naturally, the two of you moved over to the couch, rushing to the kitchen really quick to get you a drink — one he, of course, knew by memory from the months in which he'd known you.

"So, uh, what's up?", he cleared his throat.

"Jihoon," you put down the coffee cup he'd handed you, shifting your body on the couch to face him, "I'm really sorry about last night," you began, "I promised I'd stay with you and then I left when I really should've said no to Doyle and all the girls."

He wasn't fully facing you, but he could still perceive how apologetic you were. It made him feel like an asshole to be the cause of this. Why did he have to be so damn sensitive?

"It's not your fault, it's-"

You went to grab his hand from his lap, mirroring that first time you'd followed him outside back when you'd barely started working with him. Physical touch always made him anxious, but it was a good type of anxiety when it came to you.

"No, Jihoon, it is," you reaffirmed, hesitating to continue.

A sort of shy look overtook your face, drawing your eyes away from him for the first time since your arrival. You even let go of his hand, acting as if you'd been shocked you even took it in the first place. A small 'sorry' left your lips before you continued speaking.

"And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night with all my, uh, flirting," you swallowed, "I know you don't see me that way. I guess it was just the whole, uh, vibe? that made me feel like it was okay, but I won't do it again, I promise. I want to respect your boundaries. I didn't think you'd end up skipping out of work because of me. Fuck, I feel like a terrible friend."

Jihoon could do nothing but watch in horror as you spoke.

Every word that left your lips was more wrong than the previous. You'd misunderstood everything. But then again, Jihoon had not communicated his interest at all. You had no way of knowing that he liked you or that he'd been hoping against all hope that he hadn't misinterpreted your advances.

There was one last chance presenting itself in front of Jihoon. This was his last and only chance to set things straight. To grow some balls and risk it when he told you that he reciprocated any feelings you may have had for him — and tenfold.

But he stayed quiet, gulping when you sat there with an equally horrified look on your face. It was likely due to his silence, yet his body was still frozen.

"Uhm, Jihoon, I- I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, I-"

"Will you go out with me?"

It had been said so suddenly that Jihoon didn't even register he'd been the one to say it. He hadn't planned to say that, especially so suddenly. It was as much a shock go him as it must've been to you. Surely his face matched yours, which consisted of wide eyes and an agape mouth. The shock was entirely mutual.

"What?"

Jihoon flushed, gulping and looking at his lap. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. This was the most daring thing he'd done in years, and its effects were manifesting physically. Sweaty palms, rumbling stomach, eyes burning, he had it all.

But at least it was out there now.

"I, uhm, I wanted to know if you'd want to go out with me?," he tried again, pathetically adding a quiet 'please' afterwards.

"Jihoon, what? You like me?"

The way you asked made it sound like it was the most shocking thing you'd heard in your life. That in itself made his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He decided to start from the beginning. And this time he was the one to grab your hand.

"I was okay with everything you did or said last night. Trust me. I was just a coward. I was especially a coward when you asked me to dance. I wanted to say yes- I should've said yes. But instead, I let that idiot take you and- and when I saw you having fun, with- with him, I just left like an idiot. I'm sorry I left just like that. It wasn't you. It was me, I swear," he rambled on a single breath, "I do, uhm, I do like you. A lot. An embarrassing amount, really," he chuckled to himself, "And if you'd still be willing, I'd, uh, I'd really like to take you out on a date."

Eye contact had never been Jihoon's forte, and much less in an instance such as this. His eyes remained on his lap, altogether avoiding even daring look in your general direction. But eventually came the time in which he had to look your way to try and gauge your reaction.

Looking up at you, he believed to see horror in your eyes. The very last thing he could've ever wanted to provoke in you.

This was it. This was yet another rejection. Another humiliation leading up to social ruin. His one and only friend in his department would seize to want any sort of relationship with him and it was all because he misread a situation yet again and acted like a socially inept idiot.

"I, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I didn't know you liked me," you interrupted.

"Huh?"

"God, Jihoon, I had no idea you liked me back, what? This is crazy. I thought I fucked everything up," you let out a humorless chuckle.

"What?"

Now he was confused. Now he was the one with horror in his eyes.

'Back'?

"Sorry," you chuckled, scooting closer to him, "I like you. I assumed it was obvious and that you were just having a hard time letting me down easy," and with that, you blew his mind.

Jihoon sat there, mouth agape and eyebrows scrunched together in absolute shock. Things could not have turned more different than he'd ever imagined.

Yet he still felt like he was being played. Such things had happened in his past. Fake confessions, tricks of the mind, you name it. As much as Jihoon liked you, his past experiences screamed deep within him to back away, to not fall for it.

And then you grabbed his hand again, scooting even closer. There was a look of understanding in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I'm not lying Jihoon, I really do like you."

Before he could ask what you meant, you continued.

"I, uhm, talked to Mingyu yesterday — I asked him not to mention it to you. He told me some stuff about your childhood," you paused, waiting for the solemn nod he gave you to continue. He tensed, leading you to squeeze his hand, "I know there's been some stuff in your past. We didn't get into details, but I promise I'm being genuine. I like you. And if you really do like me back, I'd love to go on that date with you."

Jihoon hadn't processed your proximity until this moment. He'd been too focused on the possibility of this being another ruse, another way to break him down just because of his social ineptitude. But now that his brain was working again, it immediately malfunctioned once more as he realized what was happening.

Not only had you admitted your own feelings and accepted his invitation, but you were far too close for anything other than a kiss to occur. If your proximity didn't give it away, your eyes did. Zeroed in on his lips, they occasionally made their way back to his eyes as if asking for silent permission.

And for once in his life, Jihoon was daring. Jihoon took the first step without fear of fucking things up.

As pathetic as it'd be to admit out loud, the very first touch of your lips was life-changing for Jihoon. There'd been one or two kisses in his life, all filled with instant embarrassment or simply being nothing to write home about.

Yet this kiss was devastating. It was a testament to everything he'd ever fantasized about yet convinced himself he'd never have. It was soft and barely there at first, but the quiet sound you let against his lips was all he needed to lose his mind.

Before he could pull away, shy, bashful, you pulled him back in, opening your lips and welcoming him to do the same.

Your tongues met in the middle before Jihoon completely surrendered to you. He didn't even try to put up a fight. It was unnecessary. All he wanted was your kiss, to fall victim to anything you wanted to take and give him.

A shaky breath was let out into your lips. It felt as if his body was vibrating. The immense nerves he usually felt in social situations and all their physical symptoms were present, but it was all too different than usual. They were accompanied by a burning in his stomach.

Jihoon knew this to be arousal. Frankly, it was a pathetic realization — to feel such things with a simple kiss. But it wasn't any kiss. It was you. It was your tongue in his mouth, your hands making their way to his hair, your soft sounds muffled with his own.

"N-no, not yet. Please," he found himself pleading when you pulled away to breathe.

And he almost cried when you moaned at his pleading before trapping him in another kiss, just as heavy as the last.

Jihoon was in over his head. He could barely follow along. Could barely please you with his own lips. He was defeated by you, too high on lust to be a worthy opponent. And god, he couldn't even let himself begin to think about what was going on in his pants at that moment.

"Jihoon," you breathed.

You'd learned your lesson from last time, it seemed. Instead of attempting to pull away, you licked at his lips, keeping a nonexistent distance between you.

"What do you want?", you asked, "What do you want from me? I'll give you anything you ask for."

His mind couldn't wrap itself around that statement. He wanted everything. His body was burning and his mind was reeling. Never in his life had he come close to feeling like this.

It had been many years since he'd settled for his life. No more hopes or dreams for love, for anything grander out of life. The concept of physical touch or any sort of pleasure had left the picture quickly into college. All he'd ever known had been senseless fantasies of what could be but would never be.

Yet now he sat here, prettiest girl he'd ever seen looking into his eyes — eyes heavy with lust that made him have to use all his strength to not cry and moan and whine at the effect he seemingly had on you. Did you like stupid losers with nothing to offer? Because he was the perfect candidate.

And his eyes dropped to your lips again, almost as if there was some sort of pull towards you that he could not control. Even while knowing all other forms of pleasure he could beg for, he needed to kiss you again.

"Nghn, I- Kiss, I wanna kiss you. Please? I wanna-"

His begging didn't last long, soon interrupted by something he could barely call a kiss. It was wet and messy, teeth clanking and tongues suckling at each other. Sounds of pleasure shamelessly left both your lips and your bodies got closer to one another.

The next thing to blow his mind was your body, which soon made its way to straddle his own. From this angle, you were slightly above him, now ensuring you had all the control — though that was met with no complaints from him.

His usually shy hands were forced onto your hips by your own before yours went back to running through his hair. They were liberal, your hands, in exploring him. When your lips trailed down to his neck, exploring and quickly finding his weakest spots, your hands went to his shirt, reaching under it and exploring the bare skin underneath.

"I want you, Jihoon. Do you want me too?," you whispered into his ear, teeth softly pulling at the lobe.

Jihoon couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His mind was a chorus of yesyesyes, too broken to actually respond.

"Want you, p-please. Anything ... You can do anything, just-"

Everything cut off then. Your touch, your lips on his skin, your weight on his lap.

But it was replaced by you pulling him towards the door leading into his bedroom, quickly assessing the room before pushing him onto the bed.

He was pliable under your touch. He'd be a boneless doll if necessary. Anything you wanted was yours — Jihoon was yours.

The empty weight of his lap only lasted a few seconds before you filled it back up, hands once again finding his shoulders. He felt shy under your gaze, especially knowing you could probably feel the hardness beneath you.

"I've never ... I know it's probably obvious, but I, uhm ..."

"That's okay, Jihoonie," your hand went to his cheek, soft in caressing it, "We don't have to do anyth-"

"No!", he suddenly interrupted. He became bashful when he realized how sudden and loud he'd been, "I mean, uhm, I want to. I really want to. Please."

You sighed, "So polite, Jihoonie. Bet you're going to be so good to me, aren't you?", you said almost to yourself.

Jihoon swore his dick twitched at your words. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to be good for you. He needed you to tell him how nice and how good he was. Nothing would ever compare to being the giver of your pleasure.

He nodded numbly, mouth agape as you leaned down.

But instead of kissing him as he'd expected, the hand on his cheek shifted. Your thumb graced at his bottom lip as you watched intently. Jihoon's body reacted on its own. He needed no direction to open his mouth the tiny bit necessary to let your thumb in, suckling softly without needles any further direction from you.

This caused you to groan, which in turn made him moan. He'd never been one to have any sort of creative fantasies. Any time he allowed himself to think about sex, it was all pretty cut and dry, usually involving some faceless girl that he knew would never manifest herself into real life.

But now he had a girl — a girl he was completely infatuated by. And she had her thumb in his mouth, looking at him like he was the manifestation of her lust.

Jihoon didn't know what to do with you. You were too much for him to deal with, too much for him to function properly. He'd never imagined himself having to will himself into not cumming due to a pretty girl's thumb in his mouth, but in this moment there was nowhere else he would've preferred be.

And then you pulled your thumb away, earning yourself an embarrassing whine from him. He almost had it in him to complain, to whine and ask for you to give it back. He wanted to provide, to give you something back. But instead, you kissed him again, this time using your hands to unclothe him in the midst of the messy kiss.

Somehow he ended up shirtless, with his pants removed and sitting there with mere boxers while you sat atop him, still fully clothed. Yet he didn't have it in him to complain. If this day was full of you doing whatever you desired with his body, allowing him not a single touch of yours, he'd take it. He'd be willing to take anything you gave him. He'd beg if necessary.

"God, you're gorgeous. How do you not have a line waiting to get their turn with you?", there was a hint of frustration in your voice. It was as if the sight made you angry, like it made you so frustrated you couldn't hold back. Cuteness aggression but replaced with lust. Jihoon couldn't comprehend having such an effect on someone, much less you.

"I, uhm, I don't-"

He had no idea how to respond to your praise. But thankfully, you didn't give him enough time to muster out some pathetic response, instead opting to kiss him again, hands feeling up every available inch of skin.

You pushed him up on the bed, silently encouraging him to scoot up so he could lay down with your body still straddling his own. This felt more intimate. Jihoon knew where it was leading, he'd imagined being in this position once or twice, but never pictured it'd be anything like this.

"Is this okay?", you asked once your hands went to his chest, softly tracing shapes in it in a way Jihoon wasn't sure was supposed to be teasing or if he was just so touch-starved that it felt euphoric to him.

"Yeah, I, oh, fuck, yes, just ..."

He found his answer when your hands went to his nipples, circling them softly before pinching and pulling at them with your fingers, shutting him up before he could even make out a single sentence. It only became worse when you lowered your head, mouth meeting one nipple while the other remained engaged by your hand.

Sensitivity on his chest was not something he was aware of. There were likely countless things he was into but had never managed to explore. But Jihoon decided in that moment that what he was into was you. Every touch, every kiss, every look, every word. He held onto every single one and sighed into them, losing himself in the process and- fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Any further exploration of his mind halted at that moment. The moment in which your hips joined in on the fun. They ground against his own shyly at first, testing the waters. His hands gripped at your hips helplessly, almost as if attempting to hold onto his remaining sanity.

The worst part was when you reacted to it. Enjoying the feeling that first rock of your hips gave you, you continued, whining into his mouth as your hips sped up. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, though they occasionally felt up at his arms and chest, clawing at the muscle there and ensuring to leave your mark.

Jihoon was on fire. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. All he could do was pathetically whine into your lips, silently begging for you to never stop, for you to make him forget himself.

"Please, oh fuck, pl-please don't stop. It's so- good, oh ..."

"God, keep talking like that," you groaned.

Fuck. Of course you liked him pathetic and whiny. Of course you were turned on by it. It created a never ending cycle of you doing whatever you wanted to him and him crying like a needy loser, only causing you to double down. It was heaven and hell. Jihoon's body was in overdrive.

"You're gonna make me cum, you- fuck, don't stop, I need- shit, please."

His voice was unrecognizable now. Jihoon didn't know which dimension he was in anymore.

Until it all halted.

Your movements ended, and the weight on his crotch left him. A pathetic whine came from his lips at this, but he was too needy to feel embarrassed.

Before he could get up and kneel, begging at your feet to continue (something which he'd truly do if he wasn't to embarrassed by the thought), you made your way back to him, though this time Jihoon felt an unexpected warmth on him. A warmth accompanied by sticky wetness. It took Jihoon a few seconds to realize what was sitting on him, but when it dawned on him, it destroyed him.

Daring to open his eyes and look up at you, he found you flushed. Your face looked warm and your expression was far too lustful for him to handle. What caught his attention the most, though, was your sudden nudity. His brain could not process it, the sight of you in complete nudity, sitting on his cock with a single layer of his damned boxers intervening.

The sight went beyond his imagination. Goosebumps formed on every inch of his skin, and even his hardness twitched under you in a manner so pathetic it shocked even himself. The image above him would haunt him for the rest of his life, especially as he laid there unknowing of what to do with himself, of how to respond to such a sight.

And then you responded for him.

You grasped his hands, taking them away from your hips and bringing them up to your chest. Naturally, they engulfed your breasts, a groan leaving his lips at their weight in his palms.

"Like this, baby. Just touch me however you want," you encouraged with a breathy sigh.

"You're so pretty, fuck," he groaned again.

It caused you to giggle, biting your lip when his hands began to fondle you, playing with your nipples in the way you'd played with his earlier.

Your hips began moving again, though this time it was hotter, more desperate. You became frustrated with the friction quickly enough, digging into his boxers and pulling him out. Jihoon cried out at this, eyes rolling back at your hold.

After a few experimental tugs at his dick, you let go, letting it fall back against his stomach and taking a seat on it. Not putting him in yet, you began sliding against the length of it, letting your warm wetness grind against it in a manner so filthy it had Jihoon's head throwing back into the mattress.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," you groaned, "You'll feel so good, I already know it."

It was like you wanted to kill him. But Jihoon knew it was the mindless lust speaking. Which only made it all the worse for him. His incidental effect on you drove him crazy.

"Please, I- I want it," he cried.

But you decided to kill him some more.

"How bad?", you whispered into his ear, movements not halting.

If you wanted him to beg, to become a pathetic whiny mess as he pleaded for a single touch, he would. He had no pride when it came to you.

"So bad, you ... you don't understand. I need it. I need to feel it so badly."

But god, you were so mean. So terribly mean and wicked to him. Simple begging would not do, Jihoon realized. You wanted more.

"Need to feel what?", your hips sped up, the friction half-killing Jihoon.

"Your ... your, fuck," he gulped, "Your pussy. Please."

You moaned and then giggled, separating your cunt from his dick in order to create some distance. Sneaking between your bodies, your hand grabbed onto his hardness, sitting yourself up on your knees so you could align him to your cunt.

His tip was at your cunt, forced to circle at it by your hand as you teased both yourself and him. The warmth begging to wrap around his head made him delirious. Nothing had ever felt as good. There was no comparable experience.

"N-no condom?", he willed himself to ask.

"I'm on birth control. So if it's okay with you ...", you trailed off, chuckling when he nodded desperately at you.

You continued to tease yourself with his dick, gasping at the feeling of his tip against your clit as he twitched in your hand. The teasing was killing him, though it was too pleasurable for him to beg for anything else.

"God, Jihoon, I can already tell you're gonna feel so good, baby," you practically whined, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, angel. Just you wait."

And then your welcomed him in. In a slow descent, you lowered yourself on him, crying out his name once he was finally bottomed out.

Under you, Jihoon lost his soul. It was too warm, too wet, too perfect for him to react. His brain clocked out for the day, leaving him a hollow body meant for nothing but receiving pleasure. That orgasmic feeling of, well, an orgasm, was approaching far too quickly. Jihoon could feel his body contract on itself, insisting at him to let go, to give himself up to you.

But he persisted. The sight above him — the pretty girl with her eyes rolled back and her arched back causing her to press up impossibly close against him — had his body begging for just a few more moments to enjoy the endless pleasure you were currently giving him.

"'m gonna move now, okay, baby? Feel so good already, shit. So full," you sighed.

Your hands settled on his chest, palms pressed against it as you began to bounce. Sometimes you'd bounce, sometimes you'd grind. It was all too deliriously good for Jihoon to realize the exact science behind it.

If everything that came before had led him to this moment, he'd happily go through it all again. Nothing in his life could compare to this, to the intimacy, the closeness he felt to you at this moment. He had to do nothing but cry tears of pleasure under you, taking every bounce, ever rock of your hips, every kiss and every word of praise in his direction. If he had to go back to the lonely, hellish life he lived before just in exchange for this very moment, he'd beg for the chance.

But Jihoon didn't need to be as fatalist anymore. Not when you kept whining his name, when your eyes were crossed and your breasts were bouncing above him in a demonstration of your incessant need for him.

"Baby, give ... give me your hand," you suddenly moaned. Your hips sped up, clearly driving yourself to your orgasm and surely dragging him along with you.

He followed your instruction, just as his brain had been programed. He gave you his hand, groaning when you placed it at your cunt, silently instructing for his knuckle to bend and dig at your clit. You tightened impossibly harder at that and fuck, it was too good. It was too tight, too wet, too filthy as your moans heightened in pitch.

And Jihoon truly wanted to warn you. He wanted to tell you and come right alongside you, but his poor virginal body could only take so much before breaking. It was an impossible task to hold back and await for your own pleasure to join his. But god was it mind-blowing.

He'd orgasmed before. Alone, cold in his room, feeling pathetic due to his lack of possibility at romance, knowing he'd never find a girl to look at him with anything but apathy. Yet here you were, whispering filthy words into his ear, encouraging his orgasm with a hint of mischief in your tone as your orgasm interrupted your words.

You were evil, Jihoon realized.

Above him, you made a show of your high, providing him with a view that would surely ruin him for life. Your hands let go of his body, instead choosing to fondle with your own, putting aside your own orgasmic experience to instead destroy any last bit of sanity left in him (which truly was not much — likely in the negatives by now). Your face was one that Jihoon would tattoo in his memory, bringing back up again and again in order to finish himself off in the many lonely nights to come — he couldn't help his fatalistic way of believing this might be a one and only type of situation.

It felt endless, so endless that the pleasure was almost painful. But Jihoon could still categorically asses this as one of the best experiences of his long years on this earth.

The low after the high was still blissful. Jihoon had heard of 'post-nut' clarity, with it being sold as a negative after such a high. Yet Jihoon felt nothing but bliss as you disconnected from him and dropped to lay at his side, wordless as you intertwined your bodies and stole body heat from him (which, really, he was more than happy to give).

Jihoon was unsure of what to say, but the smile you gave him said enough for the two of you. It was a silent exchange of affection that Jihoon never thought he'd be on the receiving end of.

"Maybe skipping work today was a good idea," you joked after some silence.

His eyebrows lifted. Understatement of the year.

You laughed and nuzzled further. He must've said it out loud. Well, the effect was nice, so he had no complaints.

"We're going to have to visit HR first thing tomorrow morning," you groaned into his chest, seemingly unable to help yourself in pressing kisses there. Jihoon felt too loved.

"Hmm?"

But he was still half-dead.

"I'll wanna jump you as soon as I see you tomorrow morning. I won't be able to be discreet," you joked.

"You wanna, uhm, be official?", he risked in asking.

He wanted to slap himself. You'd given no indication of changing your mind about him. This fatalism was something he really needed to work on.

"Yes, you idiot. God, Jihoon. We're going to have to work on this," you agreed without realizing.

It was quiet after that. It was the same quiet Jihoon had grown used to in his solitary life, except it had morphed into a silence he could see himself becoming fond of. Your breath against his chest was all he could hear, and it was the one and only sound he desired from now on.

The following morning, you awoke before him, loving on him without question, wordlessly showing him how easy it was for you to want him, to love him. It was new, but for once, it didn't scare Jihoon. For once, he could see himself giving into something good without fear.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: office romance, semi-public sex, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 202 (teaser); 2340 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, we have to, hmph-"

That was as far as Jihoon had been able to get all morning before yet another rude interruption from you.

Well, calling it rude would be going too far.

In reality, Jihoon was very welcoming of every single interruption. Especially since each one consisted of your lips on his, with the occasional involving your tongue down his throat.

You'd woken up early, awakening him with soft caresses and kisses to his bare chest. It was a first for him. Everything was a first, really.

He'd been defiled for the first time last night, having the girl of his dreams suddenly showing up to his apartment to fix up a miscommunication (entirely caused by him) and turning his world upside down by confessing to a crush he'd believed completely unlikely.

The details made Jihoon too flustered to really think about, but at least he'd allow himself to enjoy the aftermath of it all.

But sadly, he had to try and interrupt you again. It was nearing the time to go to work, and as happy as he was with you, he knew things at work would likely have to change due to the sudden development of your relationship.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

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[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[a-mint-bear]

Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

---

It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that. 

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet. 

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore. 

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options. 

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room. 

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit. 

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself. 

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower. 

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient. 

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options. 

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing. 

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy. 

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment. 

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon. 

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing… 

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him. 

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear. 

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention. 

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit. 

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance. 

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way. 

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did. 

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him. 

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep. 

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder. 

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer. 

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat. 

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp. 

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared. 

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

You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless. 

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck. 

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part. 

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad. 

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint. 

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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

a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

[valenteal]

The story of Anakin Skywalker is about how anyone can break under enough pressure. It isn’t a tragedy about an inevitable doom, it isn’t about how power corrupts or about how caring is dangerous. It’s about how no matter how good and kind and selfless and seemingly invincible someone is they still have needs and they can still be hurt.

Maybe this is because Phantom Menace is my favorite Star Wars movie and so I have rewatched it a million times, but for me Anakin is the most genuinely caring and selfless character in Star Wars. He wasn’t just an innocent kid (kids can be cruel and selfish and they’re usually better when they grow up not worse) he was compassionate and kind and despite growing up surrounded by some of the worst scum in the galaxy he knew nothing of greed. That says so much about his character.

Anakin’s fall to the dark side took over a decade of carful manipulation that culminated in cascade of tragedy and loss. It wasn’t an accident. Every bit of the emotional trauma, physical trauma, and mental trauma from the moment Anakin met Palpatine and on ward was planned. We don’t see the decade he spent between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones but immediately in the second movie we see how much Anakin has changed. Where he used to be confident he’s insecure, where he used to bold and fearless he is now arrogant, where he was once inquisitive he is now cautiously enthusiastic, where he used to build he now destroys. Every change in his behavior and outlook is the result of either the teachings of the Jedi Order which are pretty much the antithesis of his entire personality, the result of Sidious’s manipulation, or the result of the toxic attitudes of many Jedi towards him.

Now I know a lot of people have… misconceptions about what the Jedi Order is and what they stand for. It’s understandable, since I guess a lot of people think of Luke as an everything a Jedi is supposed to be but he is NOT, he wasn’t even taught their philosophy! Yoda and Windu and Luminara are everything a Jedi is meant to be. They take an impersonal approach to justice, they treat others coldly, they believe themselves to be above petty things like emotion and pain and human connection. There are Jedi who take a more progressive stance like Obi-Wan and Quinlan and Qui-Gon but you have to understand that they are not model Jedi and have their own struggles with the Order and its teachings. The Jedi code literally says “There is no emotion.” That is what Jedi strive for. And that isn’t even getting into the genocide or the politics. Focusing on how this affected Anakin. That’s what I’m doing.

Anyway, Anakin is a deeply emotional person. This is not a bad thing. It’s the source of his conviction and his empathy (which a surprising amount of Jedi lack). Anakin feels deeply, so he feels love and anger and sadness more keenly than Jedi who have worked their whole lives to shut off emotion. And he was never taught how to deal with it. The most the Jedi did was tell him to meditate, release his emotions into the Force, focus on the present or other platitudes that do not help! I would know. I’m also a deeply emotional person who feels things very keenly to the point where I had a full psychological evaluation when I was 6 years old. When a person deals with this it NEEDS to be addressed. I have wonderful parents who did everything in their power to help me from a young age and I still ended up suicidal! Anakin did not get help and was instead shamed for feeling so strongly and he ended up bottling it up. People complain about how he was “whiny” and I (a person who has also been called whiny) just go what the fuck do you expect?? Expressing his frustration verbally is literally the healthiest option he has! And we know what it looks like when he chooses other forms of venting! Anakin vented to Padmé almost immediately after reconnecting with her because she is literally the only person in his life who will listen to him (other than Sidious but he makes things worse on purpose).

So yeah. Sensitive people need to be taught how to deal with their emotions in healthy ways. Really everyone does but especially people with strong emotions.

But when Anakin isn’t overwhelmed by emotions he doesn’t have the tools to deal with, or surrounded by toxic people, or being actively manipulated by an evil dictator, that’s when you see who he really is. Which means pretty much all of Phantom Menace, a good chunk of the time he’s alone with Padmé, and… nothing else really. (I’m just going to say here that I am not including Clone Wars Anakin due to the purposeful butchering of his character. I still consider the show canon in everything but Anakin’s characterization in a lot of specific instances.)

Anakin has never been a selfish person. The things people perceive as selfish are his needs. He needs unconditional love. He needs Padmé because she is the only person who gives him that. Even without getting into his psychology and bpd and what a splitting episode is, it isn’t hard to recognize that when he places Padmé’s safety above other people’s it’s an act of self preservation more than self interest. He knows that he would literally go crazy without her. After years of being systematically isolated and traumatized she is the only thing keeping him together. In his desperation to save her and consequently his own sanity he lost both those things. But it’s important to note that he tried to do things right, that he went to Yoda for help, that he told Padmé so she could take her own steps to ensure her health. He did everything he could think of before getting desperate enough to go to Sidious. Not to mention he did everything right after discovering Sidious’s identity. It wasn’t until he was presented with a false dichotomy that boiled down to choosing his mentor and confidant of over a decade and his wife’s life or the man who has scored and distrusted him since he was child that he made the objectively wrong choice. And that was after not sleeping for weeks and having a traumatizing realization that triggered a splitting episode so he wasn’t in a head space to understand what was going on in an objective way.

So yeah. That’s my rant about Anakin Skywalker. If you want to comment or debate know that I will reply with an explanation of my thoughts that could be just as long as this post and that I will not stop until you do. You will not get the last word. I feel very strongly about this and if you’ve gotten this far you have to know that I have thought very deeply about this as well. I have heard every argument. You will not change my mind. I have done research. Engaging with this post to disagree will only lead to me expanding on this even more because this is really a brief summary of all my thoughts and feelings on the matter. If you’re just curious about the rest of my thoughts and feelings just ask.

Don’t try to attack my own morals and character because of this, I am NOT condoning Anakin’s actions or behavior, I am completely aware that he is a deeply damaged and unstable person. The point of this is not to deny that but to explain why Anakin is not naturally like that. The scariest thing about Anakin’s fall is that it happened to Anakin, a paragon of compassion and selflessness. Anyone put under the amount of pressure he was would go crazy. I doubt many people would last as long as Anakin did. He was insanely strong to resist for as long as he did.

[paetalks]

the first time sukuna ryomen hears 212 by azealia banks it’s through the walls of his room that he shares directly with your bathroom. your voice sounds muffled over the loud bass base that is pounding a hole in his head while he’s trying to focus on his pc. he’s trying to write a paper for college and it’s almost impossible with all the noise you have been making. you weren’t a bad neighbor overall - i mean, he has never seen you in person - but the music you would blast while showering was absolutely insufferable to him. you always kept quiet, day and night, never run around or moved furniture. sukuna has been living there for well over a month and everything was going okay, apart from the fact that you loved singing in the shower. it was okay the first times, really, but lately the songs kept getting louder and louder. and it was all annoying, girly club music. the one he couldn’t really stomach.

so when he hears the first notes of yet another kim petras’ song he gets up from his chair and bolts out the apartment, ringing at your doorbell. it takes a while for the volume to be turned down, and ever more for you to reach the door. when you crack it slightly open, you see a tall, tattooed, muscular man looking down at you with pure hatred in his eyes. your brain goes blank and you let the door slip from your hands, opening fully only to reveal your towel-covered body and damp hair. his eyes widen, but never leave your frame or seem to be less angry. “hi?” you say, confused.

“hi.” his voice is deep, his sentences short and cutting “would you mind turning the damn music down?”

“oh” you frown, looking at him from head to toe. you notice how he’s wearing grey sweat pants and a black sabbath’s t-shirt that looks like it has seen better days. his hair is all over the place. a smirk makes its way to your face. “yeah, i would actually mind. i was kinda in the middle of something…” you gesture back to the direction in which the music is still coming from and your towel falls slightly lower.

the stranger’s eyes follow your hands as you pull it up again, rolling them afterwards. “i’m trying to work here.” he gestures at his front door, right next to yours.

“okay?” you purse your lips. “i don’t think that’s any of my business really. i’m just playing some good music.”

“good?” his eyebrows furrow. “you don’t even know what good music is.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, stranger. go ahead and insult me right in my house.” you chuckle at yourself, meanwhile ayesha erotica starts playing in the background. “oooh, i love this song!” you squeal, and his eyes dart quickly between the direction in which the music is coming from and your body.

before he can say anything else, you smile forcefully. “gotta go back in there. byeeee!” and you close the door right in front of his face.

he stands there for a while, eyes widened and twitching. how can you be so hot and yet so annoying? he starts asking himself while walking back to his room. he sits back in his chair and as soon as he decides to surrender for the day and give up on his work, the music finally stops. sighting in relief, he opens his laptop again, still thinking about you and how that little towel wasn’t even covering all that much. you definitely are something, he thinks, taking a deep breath finally in deep silence.

or so he thinks, because not even a second later the first notes of paranoid from black sabbath start playing at full volume on your speaker. he laughs with himself. “she’s funny” he mumbles, shaking his head, secretly hoping to bump in you again soon.

sorry guys just had a shower and thought aboyt this. also i love music bye <3

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

The reason the high tops work is that the canvas and the lacing limit "wobble". If you need more support, look for a shoe with a firm/hard counter (the hard, half moon shaped bit that goes against the heel). It's like stabilizing a house's foundation instead of the listing upper floor. You can still combine this with an ankle high shoe of any kind, but if your lower legs swell, you can get a low sneaker or even ballet flats that will stabilize you. Th!nk, El Naturalista, Wolky and Rollingsoft/Gabor are a few brands that have this feature on durable shoes with a modern design. Gabor does widths. If you find the top of the counter is cutting into your skin, go to a cobbler and kindly ask if they could run a hammer over the sharp edge a few times. No shoes are worth bleeding for.

If you've got chronic diarrhea, a bidet will be kinder to your backside than toilet paper. If you can't access even a travel bidet, or forgot it at home while traveling, I once got the advice "at some point you just take care of the worst of it and take a shower". Not only is this true, but 10 minutes of hot water on your lower half while breathing in warm, moist air tends to also calm down (at least a little) whatever in your belly has decided to run on horse software today.

One good thing that came from covid is that the TP shortage magically revealed unto recycled TP manufacturers that they can get quilty TP money by making quilty TP. If you do find yourself using a lot of toilet paper, look into finding some high quality 100% recycled stuff. Less because of saving the rain forest, or the lacking logic in buying new material with the intent to throw it out, but because it's less likely to clog your toilet. If you're running to the toilet every ten minutes, you are not having a day where you will have a good time with the plunger, or concoctions involving dish soap and boiling water.

If you're the kind of person who can get away with wearing dresses: you can hide a lot of bloated tummy under an A-line dress. Also, people think you put effort in your appearance if you wear a dress. I've got a few in knit jersey with flutter sleeves for days when I need to see a doctor for a vaccine, blood sample or BP reading. I've also got a few ankle length dresses if I don't have wfh days left but can't fit into anything but oversized jogging pants. You can sneak the jogging pants on underneath if it's cold.

If you've got a really bad bloat day and your underwear won't fit, but going commando is not an option... Adult diapers are surprisingly accommodating to waist fluctuations. Most supermarkets and drug stores have them near the period products. They are fully plastic, so either make sure you have times where you can let your skin air dry, or look into ways to prevent diaper rash for your skin type. They're also good for anxiety about soiling yourself if you've had accidents when sick/exhausted/in too much pain.

Sometimes you need a pain killer. Sometimes you need a spasm reliever. Ask about this to your doctor if you have cramps or muscle pain that has the same response, or less, to ibuprofen as it does to m&m's. Some of them work on smooth muscle, like in the GI system and uterus, others work on skeletal muscle, like those in the abdominal wall and limbs.

Pregnancy pillows are a friggin godsend for sleeping on your side after abdominal surgery or if you're prone to joint pain. If those are too expensive, too difficult to find or too heavy... I've used an Ikea Blåhaj in a pinch. The big, 100cm one. Put a cotton T-shirt or pillow cover over it in summer if its polyester body gets too warm.

Endocrine system making you feel like you're overheating even after everything has been checked out and deemed fine? Sweating a lot? Get some natural fiber clothes or underlayers with a high linen content. Or hemp. Or ramie. These are fibers from plant bast cells (instead of cotton fluff or pulped plant waste, like viscose or bamboo), and are better than their already comfier brethren at absorbing and wicking away sweat. They're also great at slowing down BO. You'll still feel hot, but not being sticky, stinky and hot will help. They don't have to be woven clothes or fancy clothes. My 55/45 hemp-cotton blend T-shirts from Up-Rise usually go for standard-affordable slow fashion prices... But they have decent promo codes at least three times a year, so at least half of my shirts were bought at "will not immediately dissolve" fast fashion prices.

The best medical aid or medication is the one you can use. Talk to your doctor/pharmacist/ortho tech if something isn't working for you. That's telling you doctor how bad side effects are, sure, I've mentioning I couldn't take a liquid medication on time because I needed to be near cutlery I could sanitize to take it, and got switched to the tablet formula. My compression wear compliance in hospital skyrocketed by being switched to knee-high ones as opposed to thigh-high. I've found out my tech can separately bill my insurance for the orthodic shoe inserts prescribed, and me for the "medically unnecessary", extra thin, carbon fiber witchcraft that means I can buy off the rack shoes.

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[ngage2003]

I would be absolutely thrilled to hear your highschool Jaylex headcanons

SMILES. Ok.

⟦content warning: unhealthy relationships, abusive childhoods, generally two traumatized people behaving badly and like real people, headcanons and some analysis.⟧

As mentioned in this post, I think Alex and Jay are to some extent codependent, with bad habits developed between the both of them due to growing up in the south and being not typical/"weirdos".

I think this based off of just how easily they fell into an unhealthy dynamic in Season 2 of Marble Hornets where I believe Alex plays to what he knows about Jay to manipulate him. (Using his curiosity against him and leading him in circles.)

Jay isn't innocent either though! Really, both these characters are defined by their selfishness, which get exacerbated by the Operator. Alex has a need for control and power, and Jay has a deadly curiosity and passivity/apathy to others in the face of it.

I think Alex's need for control and power comes from his toxic relationship to masculinity, (talked about a bit here,) and a desire to fit in despite being unable to, exacerbated by his home life. I think its very likely his father instilled these beliefs in him by himself being someone who upheld toxic masculinity and make fun of perceived femininity in his son, a sort of abusive "tough love" approach that left Alex hurt and angry and hating himself and his dad.

I think strangely the reason Alex and Jay first connected is because Jay's closed off nature, apathy and his autistic tendencies left him appearing to just not care about masculinity and fitting in, despite being male, a fact which pissed Alex off to no end because it sort of broke his brain. ("Men are naturally good at being masculine and in control and powerful, and I'm not so I am a failure" is a belief instilled in him by his dad, but here is Jay, this apathy filled fly on the wall.)

I think they originally became friends because Alex wanted someone to punch at metaphorically and push around, and Jay easily complied to that, fascinated by Alex's attention on him and his general bristly demeanor which was so opposite to his gilded cage life. (For more on that check out my nepo baby jay post)

I think as time progressed, Alex's anger towards Jay gradually faded a bit, but he always held some sort of residual resentment for how unbothered he seemed with fully conforming to masculinity. Jay to him is as much of a symbol as he is a person, a tick that stubbornly persists in the flesh and ruins Alex's attempts to make sense of things.

That is not to say Jay is feminine necessarily or actively avoiding masculinity, but he is just apathetic and not too preoccupied with being masculine. Along with this, I think he is caring to Alex, especially in highschool, a fact which upsets and confuses the other because "men don't act like that to each other."

I can so clearly see Alex in highschool getting in fights, and then Jay helping patch him up, or buying him something in an attempt to make him feel better because that is just the behavior he has been taught, and Alex briefly thinks about driving his knuckles into Jay's stupid face as he applies an antibiotic to his split knuckles.

I think Jay understands that the grass is not greener for Alex to some extent, but Alex envies him so hard sometimes.

The furniture in Jay's house gets replaced every few months, there is nothing concrete to hold onto and savor there besides this toxic pristine smell of freshness. Meanwhile everything in Alex's house is the same as when he was a young kid, with all the residue of bad memories that come with that, molding under seat cushions and catching in the dusty corners of rooms.

Alex's home is painfully lived in, and Jay's is painfully empty.

I don't think they're ever together romantically, but I think Jay has a brief crush on Alex in highschool because Alex is kind of the only concrete thing in his life. Alex has a crush on him (that he denies) in turn because Jay is the only good thing in his.

They make out on Alex's couch when his parents aren't home, desecrating over a decade of memories with a needy, unsure passion only really held by teenagers and infidels.

Alex is so shocked with himself afterward that he stays in bed all weekend and refuses to ever sit on the couch again, like the memory of what happened there will somehow rub off on him. (Like it will tempt him.)

I don't think Jay ever mentions it again, seeing as Alex ignored him all that weekend, (despite him trying to call because he really wanted to ask Alex about all that, and maybe invite him over to make out again.) But if Alex doesn't want to talk about it, they won't. If he wants Jay to pretend it never happened, he will. Alex leads them after all, and Jay will always follow in his footsteps, always eager to be at his side, no matter how much or little Alex Kralie is left.

I think it is worth noting that, despite coming from different backgrounds, Jay and Alex both go down at the hands of the Operator. Tim and Alex practically come from the same story but they come out the other side as two opposites, while Jay and Alex they both die in the same building.

I think there is some meaning there, with how Alex and Jay are so entangled.

Alex can't kill him for so long, and Jay keeps looking for him always.

I don't know, I think about them a lot.

[acatnamedpusheen]

Two of Hearts (Declan x Reader)

Pairing: Declan x fem!reader

Word count: 7K (I've never written anything this long brace yourselves)

Genre: Mutual pining, enemies to lovers kinda vibes, smut in the end(that was the whole point), hella cliche

Warnings: Some bad words here and there, sexual themes obviously, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (I should be locked away), english not being my first language, me rarely using a full stop

Summary: You and Declan are sent on a trip to Como in Italy to attend an award ceremony. After a series of events you end up revealing your feelings for each other.

A/N: I totally did not get this idea as soon as I read that Aidan got secretly married to Caitlin in Italy (somebody lobotomise me). I should mention that I'm not following the timeline of the series, I mixed things up, good luck with that. Also play along with me and pretend it's normal for the british tv awards to be taking place in Italy, alright? This fic took an unnecessary long amount of time during which I was hopelessly sitting in front of a blank white screen with a blinking cursor every single day for 2 weeks. It took every bit of sanity left in me, I was contantly going between "this is so good" and "this is the crappiest shit to ever be written" . Still leaning towards that secong option but, I shall end my yapping here and let you read.

"You're going to Italy with Declan next week." Tony Baddingham casually told you after calling you to his office.

"What? Why?!" there was nothing in Tony's expression that indicated there was any space for negotiation or a way out of this, but these questions involuntarily came out your mouth with a clear protesting tone.

"British Television Awards, special edition taking place in Como this year. Declan has won an award and I can't send him alone, there needs to be some sort of representation from Corinium. And before you open that pretty little mouth of yours again, neither me nor Cameron can go because there are some issues that need to be settled, regarding the next season of Four Men Went To Mow." Tony finished that last sentence with a roll of his eyes. He obviously would have preferred a nice trip to Italy and a chance to show off his power and success infront of all the other producers and station owners that would be attending. Four Men Went To Mow was all Corinium had without Declan, so he had to make sure everything was arranged for its next season.

"I see..." you slowly nodded with a smile that wasn't really hiding your annoyance and turned around to exit Tony's office, barely catching a glimpse of him winking at you with that smug face of his before ligthing a cigar.

You've been working with Tony for a long time at Corinium, you were used to his 'manners' and how much of an authoritarian he was. That didn't mean he wasn't driving you mad, you just had found your ways of putting up with him. That had changed, however, when Declan O'Hara, the ruthless, irish journalist joined Corinum's picture. You had been assinged as his personal assistant, much to his dismay because, like he'd said: 'he does his own research'. Nevertheless, he did need someone to keep him a bit organised and Tony insisted you reported to him about any ongoing research because Declan tended to get quite uncooporative at times. So now, not only did you have to put up with a dictator of a boss, but also this arrogant, excessively proud workaholic you were supposed to be 'assisting'.

"What's wrong?" Declan asked upon seeing you storming in his office after exiting Tony's.

"Nothing." you tried to sound unbothered as you reached for some papers in hopes of distracting yourself. It wasn't really working.

"Oh I know better than to believe a woman answering this question with 'nothing' while she's looking clearly bothered by something." he replied with an amused tone while crossing his arms, accent thick and textured like crystallized honey, making you huff in annoyance.

"Did you know Tony is sending us to Italy next week?" you turned to him.

"Yes, somebody has to go and get that award. And see the look on the faces of all these idiots that never appreciated me." that smirk on Declan's lips was doing things to you. Things you were sure would send you straight to hell if one was to know of them.

"It doesn't sound like you really need me in any of this, though. Or do you think the award will be a bit too heavy for you to hold it all by yourself?" it was your turn to sound smug and the subtle laugh you earned from Declan felt like a reward.

"It's better for the station's image to not just send me there alone and I'm sure Tony explained how he can't send anyone else right now. Besides..." he paused and took a few steps until he was directly in front of you. "I want you there." he locked eyes with you causing your gaze to quickly shift to some other spot around you. "You're part of this show, you worked for this award too." your eyes met his again and you could really see sincerity in them. It felt like this was the first time he was genuinely recognising your work. Always too proud to let a single compliment about your contribution slip past his lips. Was he resorting to simple flattery for the purpose of the trip, you wondered.

"Could you at least tell me you'll be a bit less of a pain in the arse during those 3 days that we're going to be there?" it wasn't unusual for you to express how irritating Declan could get every now and then and you were sure not giving in to any potential tricks of his just yet.

"You know I can never promise such thing, sweetheart." there came that sinful smirk again as he patted the side of your arm before taking a step back and walking to exit the room.

There was no denying you had caught feelings for Declan over time, but you kept trying to find a way to persuade yourself that it was just a stupid phase. None of this was right. He was technically your boss, married even though his wife had just left him, with 3 children and quite older than you. You never had a chance with him and you never even should. You had it all under control up until then, partially hiding behind you constantly being cross with him. But only god knew how you kept longing to feel his toned back and shoulders under your touch, or taste his lips on yours. No, this was so wrong and just a phase, you constantly lied to yourself. A business trip with just the two of you alone, however, could easily reveal the truth and that was the actual reason why it was making you so nervous. As much as you'd wanted to let Declan know how you felt instead of letting it eat you away you dreaded the possibility of making things awkward between the two of you.

-

"You don't mind me sleeping through the entire ride, do you?" you were up on basically no sleep at an ungodly hour in the morning before the sun was even up, for a 2 hour drive to London to catch your flight to Milan. From there you'd be taking the train to Como for about an hour. 'Why did the British Television Awards had to take place in Italy?!' you kept thinking to yourself, your eyes barely able to stay open and then remembered Tony babbling something about it being a special anniversary edition or whatever this year.

"Of course not, but don't expect me to not do the same as soon as we're on that plane." Declan chuckled softly. He was relieved that the circumstances of your trip were such, that allowed, required even, either one or both of you to doze off during most times. He didn't want to make it awkward between the two of you now that you weren't sitting together for work. And he hated to admit it, but he was glad you'd be sleeping while he was driving, because he could easily steal glances at you without getting caught. He liked you, there was no denying that he did, but this felt so new to him and he feared it all might just be some sort of weird reaction to the fact that Maud had left him, sinking in. All these years married and he'd never even thought about looking at another woman, the way his wife did at another man. But now you had come in the picture and Maud had made her exit and it felt so different. You were different, you intrigued him, excited him. The way you carried yourself, the way you opposed him. It wasn't in the way Maud did, because she never liked him for what he truly was, she just wanted attention, whereas you understood Declan. Your 'insults' were innocent, just there to remind him when he was crossing the line and he knew that. What he didn't know was if there was any chance you saw him the way he saw you.

-

"Just a quick question, what do you find more appaling in this situation, me or Italy?" he turned to you with a playfull tone after you'd found your seats on the plane.

"You of course." you joked causing both of you to laugh. "Don't mind me, really, it was just the way Tony announced it, nothing else." you assured him before going back to whatever book you had picked to keep you distracted, surprised that for once you were thankful for Tony's actions upon realising that he'd booked business class seats, which granted space in-between you two. There was no way you could stay sane with Declan being any closer to you than he already was.

The remaining part of this long trip continued in equal silence. You'd only exchanged a few words on how magnificent the green scenery that occupied hundreds of kilometers outside the train window was, or on some new information about whatever research was currently in progress for the next show. And after what seemed like an eternity, in the late afternoon, you had finally arrived at the hotel you'd be staying for the next 2 days.

- 

"Would you like to join me for dinner later? I'm sure we can find a nice restaurant nearby." his all too familiar voice stopped you before you opened the door to your room right next to his. Oh how he wished he could openly ask you out, reveal his true feelings for you, now that you were away from all the familiar faces. Instead he had to make do with this question and hopes you'd accept. 

"I don't think Declan O'Hara, almost officially divorced, should be spotted having dinner with his assistant alone in some restaurant in Como, don't you think?" as much as you wanted this, you had to put your reputations above it. You might be away from the closed society of Rutshire, but Declan was still somewhat of a public figure and was expected to be here for the awards. You couldn't afford seeing your names on the front pages of tabloids, or be the one having to deal with Tony's rage if that were to happen. He gave you this job because he knew you were the one who could stop Declan from acting on impulse and that's what you were determined to do. Besides, it helped keep your irrational thoughts at bay too. "You can go alone on this, I'll probably just order room service, I'm quite tired anyway."

"Then, I'll order room service too and we can sit on my balcony. I've been told the view is exquisite." he saw you preparing to protest and was quick to continue "Come on, love, we can't act like total strangers until we get back. You got dragged here because of me, let me try to at least make it even a bit enjoyable." 

Hearing the nickname 'love' fall from his lips had your knees feeling weak. He called you things like 'love', 'darling' or 'sweatheart' every so often and it was the way he seemed to use these words so naturally with you that had you melting. "Only because you're asking me so nicely." your expression softened. "Anything along the lines of meat, salad or pasta would be perfect. But make sure there's wine." because not in a million years could you handle dinner with Declan sober. "And I'll be over in a minute." were your last words as you dissapeared behind your door leaving Declan in the hallway, before he had a chance to say another word. 

Alone in your room, you couldn't help the shy smile that found its way to your lips as you let out a deep breath. You had to compose yourself, it was just dinner on a business trip.  Declan seemed to mirror you with one of his signature smirks at the thought of getting to spent some private time with you outside the context of work. Last time he had gotten anything close to that was months ago at the NYE party at his house, where practically the whole of Rutshire was invited and he couldn't recall saying anything more to you than a 'hello' , 'happy new year' and 'goodbye". Did he even see you when you left? He couldn't say for sure. Of course there where times when he was tempted to invite you over to the priory. To have you finishing up work at his study and things escalating to... well, other things, but he knew how irresponsible that was, with Taggie and Maud potentially a few walls away. How it would probably make you believe he was a pervert.

- 

"So, ready for the big day tomorrow?" you asked in an attempt to keep some sort of conversation going and avoid the thick awkward silence that kept threatening to fall. Your eyes followed the red wine in the glass you were placing back down on the table, as the sun was setting behind the green mountains surrounding the lake, painting it in hues of orange. The early September breeze setting the perfect temperature for open-air dining. If anyone were to see you and Declan sitting on that balcony, they would, without a doubt, assume  you were a couple sharing a romantic dinner quite possibly on their honeymoon too. But the truth was far from anyone's assumptions.

"There isn't much to be prepared for anyway." Declan said nonchalantly before taking another bite off his plate. 

"Well, do you know what you are going to say? Won't you get nervous in front of all these people?" your eyes met with his.

"I'll tell them how pleased and thankful I am for the award, I won't forget to mention Corinium and I think I'll be just fine." seeing you nod, he proceeded to add the one thing that was actually making him nervous "And I want you up there with me." his doe eyes had yours widening in surprise. 

"What, me? Why?" as much as you were surprised there was no doubt you found this quite flattering.

"Because, like I've told you before, this award belongs to you too and you didn't come all this way just to sit there and watch me take all the credit, did you?" was he compromising his image by choosing to have you on stage with him so soon after his wife had left him? He didn't care. Besides, you were representing Corinium and your contribution to his show was undeniable.

"Who am I to say no to you, I guess?" two glasses of wine in and rather tired, you smiled in defeat. If only you could stop resisting him in other ways too. Him taking you right on that balcony for any prying eyes to see that he was yours, would have been a true delight. It was moments like this, that you realised you were capable of surprising your own self with such wild thoughts. Luckily, they where soon cut short by the one man conquering them.

"Speaking of which, I have something else I've been meaning to tell you." he was hesitant. Why? Had he spoken to Tony about firing you? That would explain why he kept mentioning how much he appreciated your work. "I want to leave Corinium and bid for the franchise with a team of my own." you didn't say anything, unsure of what that meant for you and your job. "I was hoping you'd be part of it." he chose his next words carefully.

"Y-you're asking me to go against Tony and risk losing my job and any chance of even getting another one?" your blood run cold just thinking about such thing.

"I'm asking you, to help me go against Tony and possibly make televison history. I've got Rupert Campbell-Black on this, we stand a great chance if we work smart." he kept his voice low, forearms on the table as he leaned in closer giving you a stern look. He was definitely serious about this.

"A 'possibly' and 'a great chance' are not enough for me to put my future at stake. If Tony finds out I helped you out with this and then your little venture fails, I'm done. He will make sure I never find a job again, ever." you stressed that last word. Getting fired suddenly sounded a lot less terrifying than Declan's proposal. 

"Why do you always have to bend to his will? Can't you see this is your chance to finally leave that bastard?" he raised his voice and huffed in annoyance, unable to undertsand your obsession with being so loyal to Tony.

"Because, that bastard is the one giving me this job which is mainly to deter you from making stupid decisions and keep things running smoothly." you fired back.

"Sounds more like your job is to do anything he asks you to, to keep him pleased. I wouldn't be surprised if he had you bent over his desk every other night." as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The pain in your eyes violently brought him back to his senses. He should have never said that, but the thought of that brute having his way with you just for fun was torturing his mind. He wanted to take you as far away from him as possible, he loved you too much to let you stay working for Tony. He needed you for himself.

"Do you really think so low of me?" your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows knitted together in dissapointment. The sun was now long gone behind the peaks, there was no color reflected on the water anymore and the air suddenly felt sharp and cold, perfectly matching Declan's words.

Ηe struggled to form his next sentence. The man who had each and every one of his show guests at his fingertips, who knew how to speak his way through any situation, sat defeated before his most trusted colleague.

"No, look, I'm sor-"

"You know, if this has anything to do with Maud leaving and you feeling the need to take it out on somebody else, I can try to understand but by no means accept it." with firm hands on the table, you pushed your chair back and stood up, ignoring Declan's useless efforts to apologize.

"I'll see you tomorrow for the ceremony. I'll be ready by 5. Good night." with a final glance at him you made your exit. All this time you'd been working together and it seemed like this was the very first moment he'd witnessed genuine hurt and anger taking over you. He sat there, unable to move an inch but instictively reaching for a cigarette, taking it between his lips and lighting it with slightly shaking hands. Why couldn't he separate his TV persona from his real self and refrain from dissecting people just to feel something? Why couldn't he stop hurting the people he loved and cared for?

-

Your reflection in the vanity mirror opposite the room's bed had begun turning into something unfamiliar after you'd zoned out for the umpteenth time while getting ready.

The walk you'd taken earlier by lake Como, had helped you clear your mind a great lot. You had found yourself unable to get enough of the breathtaking view that stood before you. A vast body of water so calm and still the entire sky was mirrored on it and on its edges, like antexifes, beautiful houses in vibrant colors, all engulfed by the rich green, imposing mountains in the backround. This place felt as if it didn't belong to earth, as if it was a piece of heaven that had fallen from the sky, or was magically accessed through some sort of portal that went unnoticed. 

Your mind kept travelling back to those images, your heart still a bit sore from Declan's false assumptions about you, as you fixed the final details of your hairstyle - an elegant updo containing far more bobby pins and hairspray, that you'd usually go for. You'd hoped this fairytale-like town would have been the catalyst for a much more pleasant series of events, but maybe this was all for the best. A sign that you should deny and bury your feelings for good. How naive of you to expect anything else.

A knock on the door, though gentle, startled you interrupting your train of thought. Withought questioning who it was, realising you must have lost track of time, you were quick to get up and open it. And the sight it revealed was a true eye candy. You could have sworn you were ready to forgive Declan right on that spot just because of that tuxedo he'd chosen and the way his raven black curls were so perfectly slicked back.

"You look ravishing." for a split second you thought he was reading your mind, but the compliment was for you instead. The black velvet v-neck dress that hugged your body in all the right ways certainly did not go unnoticed by the handsome irishman that stood before you. He'd never seen you all dolled up before and that certainly had him feeling something stirring up inside him. Your eyes, carefully outlined with black, looked more enticing than ever and your lips, painted scarlet red suddenly felt too inviting. Was this his punishment for acting like such a jerk the previous night?

"You don't look half bad yourself." you returned with a mischievous look and moved past him to continue down the hallway, but stopped just a few steps in after noticing Declan wasn't following you. 

"Are you coming or not?" you turned around to see him in the exact same spot you'd left him. You'd forgotten that the best part of your dress was its open back rather than the v-neck cut in the front and Declan was definitely pleased with this discovery. Your voice pushed away all the unholy thoughts running through his mind and without missing another second he was striding to your side. 

"I know you still might not want to hear it, but I have the right to apologize formally for what I said yesterday." he began once he caught up with you. "I didn't mean it and I don't see you like that." he added, looking straight ahead as you both walked to the elevator.

"The words weren't the ones doing the damage. After all, I've been working for Tony for a couple of years now, I can handle insults. It was the fact that you, of all people, said them. And I know better than to think they were chosen without thought, so what was the matter?"  stopping in front of the elevator doors, your steady gaze fell on his features that always seemed to be burdened by troubles he rarely revealed to anyone.

"It's just that I think you deserve better, so much better." he admitted with a heavy sigh. 

"Allow me to decide that myself, next time." you replied with a tight-lipped smile just as the familiar sound signaling the elevator had arrived, was heard.

"If you ever change your mind, there will always be a place for you in Venturer. I want you to know that." he let you enter first and followed close behind, taking the space right next to you.

"I appreciate that. Is that how you'll call it, Venturer?" you shot him a curious look. 

"Yes, you don't think it's suitable?" he frowned at your question.

"No, I just think it sounds...dreamy!" the doors opened once again after you last word and you both stepped out to get to the car that was waiting outside the lobby. You may not have caught a glimpse of it, but Declan did shoot you a puzzled look upon hearing your answer. It wasn't really what he was expecting to hear, a simple 'no' or a 'yes but' would have made a lot more sense, but then again he wouldn't have fallen for you if everything you said came straight out that little box in his brain containing everything that made sense to him.

-

"And the award for best TV interview show host, goes to..." this was your queue, the big moment had finally arrived and you turned to look at Declan sitting next to you, only to find him doing the same. His demeanor had changed, though. With a half smoked cigarette between his smirking lips and a glint of confidence in his eyes, there was no doubt that you were now looking at the 'vicious Irish Wolfhound of Corinium'...

"Declan O'Hara!" the room erupted in applause after the presenter's announcement and you hugged each other in the most effortless and natural way possible. A feeling so new, yet somehow neither strange nor unfamiliar.

You walked up to the podium, with Declan leading the way and found your spot just a few steps behind him. You couldn't hide your smile as you watched him recieve the award and despite the fact that you'd be standing behind him for his little speech, you could almost see that sparkle in his eyes, the pride that made his shoulders feel lighter than ever. 

"It's a true honor to be receiving this award. I'd like to thank the audience that showed their support time and time again both live at the studio, but most importantly from their homes through the TV. Of course I would also like to thank Corinium, none of this would have been possible without its hard working people. Their contribution has been invaluable." with that last sentence he briefly turned to look at you, to make sure you knew exactly who he was talking about. Like all these times during his show when he searched for your eyes. He always found you in a corner somewhere by the audience. You were his anchor during any fleeting moments of uncertainty, even if you weren't quite aware of it.

Turning back to the audience once again he raised the award with a proud smile, proceeding to leave the stage with confident strides and you following close behind.

The rest of the night went smoothly. You watched and applauded all the other winners. Declan introduced you to all sorts of old colleagues of his that came by to congradulate him and if you weren't so caught up with the idea of him seeing you as nothing but his assistant, you'd swear you'd spotted jealousy in his eyes when any of then attempted to flirt with you.

Once you were back at the hotel, stood right outside, you told him you fancied taking a quick walk around the lake.

"I won't take long, just want to get a good look at it by night. And then we can get a drink maybe?"

"Oh so now it's not controversial to be seen having a drink with my assistant?" he teased, taking a step closer.

"Her boss just got an award, I think they both deserve a celebratory drink." you replied in the same tone, motioning to the trophy he was holding.

"I will have to agree with you." he gave you a smug smile. 

-

After about 15 minutes you were back. The scenery had indeed looked serene with the light from all the houses resembling fireflies on the surface of the water, but the air had gotten a bit too chilly for the outfit you'd chosen. 

Walking through the lobby you caught a glimpse of an all too familiar figure with the corner of your eye, sitting at the bar further away to your right. You were expecting to find him in his room, but it seems like he was to impatient to wait for you.

"Celebrating without me?" you asked in a playfull teasing tone once you approached Declan, his back facing you. He was slow and reluctant to turn around and when he did your smile faded.

"What's wrong?" your worry peacked once you saw his glassy eyes "Declan, what happened?" he was still taking his time to compose himself before he decided to speak.

"Maud called. She must have found the hotel from Taggie. She's been settled in London and she's filing a divorce." his voice lacked emotion. Either he was still in denial, or had fully accepted what was happening and given that this was Declan, it all pointed to the latter. Silence fell, only the distant chatter of some group of friends further away could be heard. You were unsure of how you were supposed to reply to something like this, but Declan continued on his own after nervously running a hand through his hair. "I knew it was foolish to believe she'd come back." he scoffed bitterly, then took a large sip from the whiskey sitting on the bar counter. A sheer contrast. Just a few hours ago he was the happiest you'd ever seen him, proudly recieving the recognition he deserved for his work and now... You were witnessing his most vulnerable moment. If you were being honest, you never thought Declan was capable of letting his guard down, or even be affected so deeply by something. That didn't mean it wasn't painful to actually see it. To see how much he truly loved his family that was falling apart.

"You can go, I'll just finish this and be up too. I won't do anything stupid, this time." he couldn't bare to look at you, you weren't supposed to be the one having to deal with him while he was like this. He wasn't even expecting you to say something, but eventually you did.

"You know, I'm not the best at giving advice, but I have this one saying I keep going back to when things get a bit rough. 'It's probably for the best'. I mean, sometimes shit just happens and you don't get anything good from it, but other times..." uncertain if you were doing any good, you placed your hand on top of his on the counter. "If it's of any use, I know how much you loved Maud. I saw it all in the way you looked at her during that New Year's Eve party." you took a seat next to him, your words forcing his eyes to bore into yours. He wondered how you had noticed such detail and held on to it all these months later. 

"Love was never enough for her, or at least my kind of love. All she ever wanted was attention, money." you remained quiet, watching him as he let his gaze wander somewhere along the multicolored glass bottles on the bar shelves. "I gave her a second chance after she literally slept with another man, because I believed we could work it out and now she goes and does this just because I was trying to provide for her and the kids." he shook his head irritated. He'd never spoken to you so openly about his marriage and you were starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

You weren't quite the fan of his wife, more like you hated every piece of her vain character. She had your blood boiling with her behaviour at that party. With how she craved and thrived from everyone's eyes being on her. With how she refused to be on the same wavelength as Declan and the way she so shamelessly cheated on him. This situation was only making you more furious, more depserate to let Declan know your deepest feelings about him. Still, you tried to refrain from using his divorce for such purpose.

"You can't really change a person, but you can change the way you react to them." he let out a heavy sigh, probably still too lost in his own thoughts to actually process what you were saying. "I can only begin to imagine how all this must feel. I'm really not the person to help with it in any way, unfortunately, because I never understood what you and Maud had. Jesus, I never understood Maud's mindset, because if I had a husband like you I'd never..." you trailed off. This was so wrong, you where taking it too far. You were inappropriately taking advantage of the situation. This was not the right moment. Hell, was there ever a right moment?!

Declan's fierce eyes were immediately back on yours. All sobered up from his aches in an instant. "You'd never what?" the words rolled off his tongue inquiringly. It reminded you of times during his interviews when he'd had his guests right where he wanted them, ready to reveal some big secret of theirs.

"I'd never even think about looking at another man." you admitted with a pounding heart. At that point there was nothing to loose and before you could register what was happening Declan's lips where crashing hard onto yours, letting you taste a dizzying mix of tobacco and alcohol as his sturdy hands cupping your face.

Placing your palms on his chest you wanted nothing but to loose yourself in the moment you'd been fantasising about for so long, but once again you had to put your morals above this and were quick to push him back. Slightly out of breath and anxiously, he waited for your explanation.

"If this is just some kind of reaction, a way for you to feel like you're getting back at her, we should stop now." you drew your hands back abrubtly, fighting the burning urge to simply kiss him as hard as he did.

"This isn't about Maud. This is about you and me. Are we on the same page?" it was your turn to choose to reply with a feverish kiss, much to Declan's relief. Just before he was ready to deepen it, however, you stopped him again, leaving him confused. "Not here. At my room in 5'." you had already risked being seen, you shouldn't push it.

"You never break character, do you darling?" he smirked to which you playfully rolled your eyes before making your way to the elevator.

No sooner had you entered your room than you heard a quiet but determined knock. You were quick to open, locking eyes with Declan and not once breaking contact as you let him walk in and pin you against the door when you closed it. The collision of your lips was harder than before, if that was even possible. Tongues already eager to explore more. Your arms flying around his neck while you felt his hands on your waist and soon one of his palms travelling south behind your thigh, urging you to lift your leg up and let him press against you. The change in position had you letting out a small whimper simultaneously with Declan's grunt. 

His mouth greedily trailed down to your neck and you pulled him closer with the leg you had around his hip. He could feel your heated pulse under his lips. Or was it just his own vibrating through his entire body? Unable to say, he let himself get drunk in the feeling of your soft skin for a little longer before he retreated, freeing your body from his touch but not his presence.

The only sound that could be heard was that of your laboured breaths as you stared into each other's eyes with a spectrum of emotions: hunger, lust, anticipation, uncertainty.

"You can't imagine how long I've wanted to have you like this." he was the first to break the silence, with a low growl.

"Is that why you basically called me a whore the other night? Was that oddly specific image part of some fantasy of yours?" you were starting to put two and two together. Your hands, still on his shoulders got to work, sliding off his black suit jacket. 

"Would it be so bad if I said yes?" his voice was just a whisper, his hand travelling up your torso to one of your mounds, while the other found purchase on your waist. The idea of you bending over for Tony did infuriate him, but partially because more often that he'd like to admit he fantasised about putting you in such position.

"Abdolutely not." you sighed feeling his palm squeeze you in such perfect way, further igniting the heat in your core. The fact that Declan actually saw you in such way was making you feel light headed.

What followed was a hot mess of kisses, touches, pulling and groping, until you'd discarded each other's clothes down to your underwear, leaving everything in a heap on the floor. Declan sat on the side of the bed and took your hand to guide you to straddle him as he settled further up. Shooting you a dirty look he decided to take control.

"The other way around, darling." a bit confused, but too hot and bothered to further question his command you did as he said and let out a chuckle once you were on his lap and caught sight of the two of you within the frame of the vanity mirror on the opposite wall.

"Hope there's no objection to me watching you come undone like this." his voice was sinfully low next to your ear as he hooked two fingers on your black lacey underwear and started pulling it off.

"Who am I to say no to you?" the use of the same phrase you'd said during dinner the other night, drove him crazy, gave him a sense of power over you that was intoxicating and you felt him harden through his boxers against your back as he growled "Good girl" with that delicious accent of his.

Once your last article of clothing had succesfully been discarded, his strong hands were on your thighs, spreading your legs further to reveal your folds. Caressing his way back up he made you lightly jolt once he found your clit, lazily circling it, watching your reaction through the mirror with lust clouded eyes.

"Dirty little thing, you've wanted this too." he murmured before leaving open mouthed kisses on your shoulder. You confirmed his statement by tilting your head to give him better access to the spot. His free hand once again found its place on one of your breasts as the one working on your clit moved south, two fingers gathering your arousal before slowly entering you. 

A moan was bound to leave your lips and Declan was instantly addicted. He continued his ministrations across your whole body, eager to hear more. His mouth on your neck and shoulder, his palm on your breast and his fingers slipping in and out of you. The sight was lewd, filthy but without a doubt far better than anything that had crossed either one's mind.

"Let me see your eyes, sweetheart." his touch not once loosing its pace as he waited for you to meet his gaze on the mirror's reflection adding a thumb back on your sensitive budle of nerves, once you did. 

"Declan..." you moaned. It was all getting too much, you felt your release approaching, eyes fluttering closed as you let one of your hands, that had been gripping the sheets, reach behind and pull Declan's hair, earning yourself a grunt.

"Let go for me, darling." his velvety voice  was all you needed to reach your climax, moaning a mix of his name and profanities, your body writhing in his steady embrace.

Once you had regained control of your body, you were quick to switch your position to face Declan and get rid of the last piece of frabric separating you, just in time to see him bring the two fingers he used on you to his mouth. 

"Delightful" sheer satisfaction was painted across his features as he moaned then let you get a taste of yourslelf with a sloppy kiss. It wasn't long before your hands were on his erection, eliciting a string of heavenly sounds from him.

"I'm starting to think you were getting pissed at me all the time on purpose." he was at your mercy the way you pumped him but still tried to get the upper hand. "Were you imagining me loosing my composure and fucking you senseless against the nearest wall?" and it was working you were getting undenianbly wet again.

"Other scenarios were further up my list if I had to be honest." you slowed down your movements but squeezed harder. Two could play this game.

"Such?" he was stifling a groan.

"Us here, in this hotel away from anyone who knows who we are." with each word you positioned him at your entrance, too impatient to finally have him fill you. You moaned in unison once you relaxed and let him get buried in your walls. Relishing the moment he kissed your lips and every part of your skin he had access to and you welcomed his insatiable hunger by finding purchase on his chest.

"Ready when you are, love." he broke character momentarily to let you adjust to the stretch, but honestly, nothing sounded sexier than checking in on each other. You started moving, lifting and circling your hips as he matched you with slow shallow thrusts, while lowering you back on the sheets.

The change in angle had you whining. Declan's movements began getting harder and deeper. Words where made redundant, both too far lost in each other's touch, in each other's bodies to make a coherent sound. 

His fingers returned to your clit causing your back to arch and allowing him to reach a new spot that had you seeing stars. He was close, desperately chasing his own release but determined to bring you to your second orgasm. 

"Give me one more, sweatheart, I know you can." he groaned once he felt your hands on his broad shoulders pulling him closer, letting his lips find that sweet spot on your neck. 

With an obscene moan of his name you were coming hard once again, your mind going blank with that euphoric feeling and Declan whispering sweet nothings in your ear that soon turned into profanities as he reached his own climax. 

Was this wrong, you couldn't tell, but you were sure that if it was you never wanted to be right.

"You do realise we have some talking to do." he pulled out and plopped down next to you trying to catch his breath.

"Can we do that when we get back? Preferably with me bent over your desk?" you replied with sass, chest heaving and mind still a mess.

"Christ, you'll be the death of me."

~

[alicefromwhichplanet]

Can I ask? What so you think about tf one? I meant I see a lot peoples praise it yet when I thinking again its not great like what they thinking.

Sooo what do you think they like that?

Hi, first of all thank you for your question. I hope my reply is not too late. I’ve seen your question weeks ago and I wanted to answer it, but by then, I was stuck in a bunch of things at work and I had complicated, negative feelings towards this movie. My opinion on it is so harsh that I find it difficult to really form a complete criticism because they are overwhelming. So I tried to avoid direct comments, tried to hide my edges and tried to be an amiable person. But now I think I’m wrong: being a harsh critic and working on some harmless, happy-together aus are all fine for me, because they all make me more like me.

So to answer your question on my opinion of Transformers: One, I’m gonna say it’s bad. It’s SO bad. It’s not just lazy writing, but kind of like malicious writing. My most non-malevolent inference is that: the play-write is an uneducated, simple-minded arrogant fool. He hasn’t read anything more serious than American popcorn superhero comics, doesn’t have any idea what a “revolution” is, hasn’t known a single blue collar worker individual, and most likely a rightist conservative. This is why the joke is on him: all he had written gives people just the opposite feeling. Characters he tried to convince the audience to be good looks like winners of an unjust game, and the character he tried to convince the audience as a super bad guy looks like a stigmatized hero. The four main characters all look like they have serious flaws in their personalities. And their “friendship” looks like a lie. They’re more like a bunch of blind rats happened to get stuck together with the playwright’s forceful hand, not knowing each other, not able to empathize with each other because of the defects in their personalities. And their friendship falling apart is only a matter of time. Not a little bit pitiful. See my friend’s analysis, I think they’re quite reasonable.

Since it should be a brief and comprehensive answer, I’ll make myself brief. So I’ll only point out some major annoying flaws in the portrayal of the four main characters:

Optimus Prime/ Orion— Not strong, not gentle.

For many, the reason for making excuses for TF One Orion is because they had the lingering love for Optimus in many past works. But there is no point comparing THIS Optimus to the past ones because in TF One, Optimus’s core virtue of empathy and tolerance is scraped from him.

Peter Cullen defined Optimus’s personality foundation as “strong enough to be gentle”, as the opposite of a “noisy flamboyant Hollywood hero”. It is fair to say that he is the savior for this franchise and this main character not to fall into “Hollywood hero” category. Optimus becomes Optimus Prime not because he “wins everything easily and gets compliments without flaws”, but because he has a big heart, is able to care for people around him, carries his unique sense of responsibility and is wise enough to make hard choices with no one supporting. But TF One, Orion is written as a reckless teen who does his acts “optimistically” like he doesn’t belong to his miner background, and chooses the subjects of his sympathy towards a small group of bots who are written on scripts as good guys. To Megatron, He is a terrible friend. He doesn’t even know about his temper and puts on a freaking surprised look whenever he is angry with an obvious reason. (And FUCK THEM with that “being too hysterical when getting angry is a sign of evil nature” conclusion, this is a Middle Ages witch-haunting line)

Megatron— the deprived and the insulted

I have written a separate analysis for TF One Megatron in Chinese, and I will translate it here eventually so I won’t say more. My conclusion is that the writer of TF One tried very hard to belittle Megatron’s character, including scraping off his radical leftist ideology and replacing it with a witch-haunting narrative: he is unstable. He has bad temper. Whatever he is angry about, he is too angry to the point of disgrace. We don’t like hysterical women. Same fucking white male narration. Orientalism.

Elita One: Fake female idol

I doubt if the playwright really knows how to write a strong woman character. Apparently he piled up some annoying alpha male traits on this bright pink, main-character’s-plot-girlfriend-turned-smurfette character in order to gain her some importance: she is as self-conceited, given much action scenes, admiring physical violence and social hierarchy as any male bodyguard side character kind of stereotype. Feminism my ass.

Not to mention that she’s basically a traitor to working class. A blind follower of miners-hierarchy rules and desperate to get on top without one single thought of this being done only through suppressing other miners ( the plots are stupid enough to the point of having her yelling at the miners to all praise her. Geez). Does or does she not have a real growth arc? Is there any more complexity to this character than being a blind follower of first a caste system then a new Sentinel Prime (Orion of course. I can’t think of another ending since he’s got the coronation from the gods for defending a tyrant, oh yeah) and getting rewarded for that? Again. Feminism my ass.

Bumblebee: the only not-so-disgusting person in the main characters, but still his happily chopping the guards scene brings me back to the Japanese Fascists soldiers holding a competition of how many innocent people can they kill in the streets of Nanjing (one killing 105 and one 104 or so, the news was on a Japanese newspaper during WWII). No kidding.

I would say it’s a story of bullying and justified abuse. (“Four ppl are good friends and then one day they all want to isolate one friend and they stopped talking with her(I know Meg is a him, but here his fate of being guiltified because of “anger management” is too similar to mad woman in the attic) and all behave very surprised when she is angry at “something wrong”. Big bro and his girlfriend big sis told the good-tempered kid (Bumblebee) who is too afraid of loneliness to do as they said or he’s gonna be *expelled from their group* like “bad Meg”. Out of fear she/he does as she/he’s told.) Besides the malicious character depiction and plot arrangements, the whole story comes without any memorable point. Very bland and predictable plots.

[scribe-of-hael]

It hurts even more when they take what was supposed to be a clear message to children, "It is ok to be upset about the bad things people do to you. And it's ok to TALK about it. It's important to LISTEN "

Starscream is shocked Hastag believes him because the other kids HAVE a bias based on what they are told. I'd 100% believe the writing was going to be set up to break away from the more experienced viewer/fans.

"You know Starscream as this, but we are going to try and tackle a different side of him and address these issues from the past"

He does everything to show, that this "selfish bad backstabby" Starscream both the kids and we the viewers have come to know, isn't really as it seem in this world.

and leaving it off the episode of not only Starscream telling Megatron off as calmly and honestly maturly ( the most i have EVER seen a Starscream talk about his feelings ) but tells the person he KNOWS went through somthing bad, like him.

To , "Take care of yourself"

Which the most heartfelt line i have EVER heard come from any Starscream. In s1 he MEANT those words. He was HAPPY, he looked ready to move on. He even CAME BACK to help!!!

He was learning. What I hoped for was addressing Starscream's own flaws. He lashes out. He gets defensive.

Helping the cons work through their issues , with this child perspective for their younger audience would have been so sweet and nice.

He might have been tge "MIGHTY STARSCREAM " once, but he's maturing , he is tired, he wants to be better. Its just hard for him to figure out HOW. And working with the kids

WHICH THEY IMPLIED THEY ALL WORKED TOGETEHR AFTER S1 BUT NEVER FUCKING SHOWED IT.

I would have taken an entire season of the Cons helping the autobots find shards over whatever the FUCK s2 was.

So you imply he helped after s1, but just MAGICALLY decided to be evil. FOR NO REASON other than

"Eh its what he does"

I wanna fight WHOEVER thought a tiny bit of exposition would make up for this shit. And to WHOEVER took this meaningful words he said to hashtag and made it seem like he was being manipulative.

Because he had ZERO to gain from the kids or manipulating Hashtag.

God forbid we have any good writing for a TF show that isn't instantly canned or tuned into shit I am SO TIRED

I think what sucks most about Earthspark is the potential of hitting topics that honestly I feel kids now adays should be able to learn about.

Like what happened with hastag and Starscream's history. Somtimes bad ppl hurt us, it hurts when we aren't believed. It hurts us when we are haunted by them. It is ok to talk about them and even not feel safe around the person that might have hurt us.

Starscream is bewildered that a child of all beings BELIEVES him and wnates to hear him out. He is clearly conflicted and he know she other kids have a bias because of the comics they read and what they know.

Despite being told who he was, he deliberately saved Hashtag when he was the one MOST at risk. The dwellers wasn't going to hurt her, it was gonna eat him. But he risked his life anyway. In that moment, he proved he is not as selfish as they come like Thrash said.

Starscream instead of fighting or even willingly going with Megatron said "no. You hurt me. I do not feel safe with you around me" and fucked off. No fight, no snark. Even wishing Hashtag well.

I legit wanna throw hands with whoever decided to take this moment , and THROW IT IN TRASH. By making it seem it was all a trick, and he never meant it hurts so fucking much.

And yes, I do understand that sometimes people who have been abused become abusers themselves. It happens! But you have NO fucking set up from a writers perspective to pull this shit. And doing it exposition of -

"Starscream does what he always does"

Is the laziest cop out writing i have seen since supernatural s12 is is fucking awful. There is no other word for it. It is striaght up awful writing.

It would have been better if you SHOWED how and why Starscream ends up this way but you DON'T. There for its not earned or even fucking explained other than. Its shoehorned in.

"It's what a Starscream would" STOP. Stop , just stop trying to constantly make the same character in every universe. Or at the very least explain WHY or fucking how!

One reason why I dread watching Armada is knowing that in Energon and Cybertron they just completely reset his character. This WHOLE ARC OF GROWTH, back to what a "classic" Starscream would be.

I do not know why Starscream is unable to be given a better arc than any other character or villain. Esspcially when Megatron is allowed to be better in ES just because and Starscream isn't.

There was so much set up for good lessons and story telling. They just completely trashed it for something less than digestible.

[ender-cloud]

My (personal) thoughts on Jimmy Mouthwashing and how the fandom perceives him: did anyone ask for this, no, but i just wanna talk about him!

Under cut to make things look cleaner

Jimmy is the most hated character in mouthwashing, and for good reason, his actions are morally wrong and what he did to Anya is just absolutely disgusting and horrible. But is Jimmy a bad character? No.

Yes he’s a bad person but thats because he’s well written, and sometimes the fandom seems to skip over all of that. There is a reason why for 80% of the game you play as Jimmy, you are supposed to feel this connection to him, you need to play as him to understand why most of the crew was able to follow him, he’s good at manipulating even the person playing.

Jimmy has so much depth to him, everything we see through his eyes is for a reason, the way we see characters through his perspective is for a reason, and thats what makes him such a great character.

Everyone tries to ignore him most of the time “oh sorry you had to draw Jimbob” or stuff like that and while it’s funny it’s not the only view you should have. Jimmy’s character is not meant to be pushed to the side, if he was you wouldn’t play the game through his eyes.

This man is smart, conniving, manipulative, and jealous of power he’s not able to handle. This is apart of the theme that is taking responsibility but Jimmy is usually mischaracterized as this dumb evil horse lover.

He’s not the only one who seems to mischaracterized, Curly is too. Everyone seems to act like he’s this perfect dude whose great for Anya and would be the hero but he is just as in fault as Jimmy.

Curly was the one who knew Jimmy and always saw the best in him, it is heavily applied that he knew what Jimmy was doing to Anya and did nothing about it when Anya didnt even have to say his name for Curly to know. This is because Curly thought of Jimmy as his friend and his right hand man (which is also kinda mischaracterized)

Curly didn’t just like, hate jimmy all of this time, no they were friends, and Jimmy’s betrayal hit him. Curly also had troubles with taking responsibility, he didn’t take responsibility for how he did almost nothing to stop Jimmy and also he couldn’t take responsibility for being the captain and keeping everyone safe.

You play as both perspectives so you see how similar the two are in some ways and how different they are in others. It’s not a question of if Curly’s better for Anya because thats not the point, the point is to show that they both are at fault and both cant take responsibility which isnt shown that often.

Anya doesn’t need Curly, she needs time to heal, she needs to go to therapy and take care of herself, not date someone who was friends with her abuser. She needs time before she should be in a relationship with anyone because what happened to her is a traumatic experience that no one should go through.

Also Daisuke and his thoughts on Jimmy as well seem to be twisted. Daisuke trusted Jimmy, theres a reason why Jimmy was able to convince him to climb into the vent, its because Daisuke felt almost kinda safe, like he could trust him.

This is because Jimmy is a good manipulator, however a character acts around Jimmy is because Jimmy has shaped them to feel that way, Daisuke wouldn’t have just climbed in there if he didn’t think that Jimmy wouldn’t mean for him to get hurt, even though we might see that he did we have to put our perspective with Daisuke.

Personally I hate Jimmys actions and who he is as a person but I love his character, i like how it’s portrayed in such a new and unique way. Every character in mouthwashing is (I didnt talk about Swansea because I couldn’t think of anything at the moment😔)

I feel as though while no one should forgive Jimmys actions, they should see that he’s a good character and very very well written and is not meant to just be pushed into the background. His toxic masculinity, his manipulative mind, his incapability to take responsibility even in the end when he put Curly in the pod instead of himself, its all written for a reason.

I uh, hope you enjoyed this ramble, it’s something I’m very passionate about because i really really like character analysis and character writing and Jimmy’s character is one of my favorites to just try and figure out the inter workings of.

Without Jimmy, Mouthwashing wouldn’t be the game it is

[lovecharmforyou]

…. just asking this out of curiousity but… any ideas or headcanons on Hyunju x Sangwoo 👀? If you do requests like that ofc. Can always request smth else.

~hyun-ju x sang-woo headcanons/ideas~

this is my first time making headcanons! Sorry if the format isn’t perfect and kinda random haha. I had so much fun making this though hope u like. thanks so much for sending in this ask. I love that u fully made this ship btw I support so hard! Feel free to send In more asks!

— Sang-woo straight up offers to pay for Hyun-ju’s surgery 101 times but Hyun-ju is always too polite to accept money from him. Regardless, Sang-woo is always be willing to spend money on Hyun-ju- even if it’s his last 5$, in a second he’ll spend it on her

— Sang-woo lowkey wants to be a sugar daddy!husband

— When they first start getting to know each other, (outside the games) all Sang-Woo can do is buy Hyun-ju gifts with a quiet nod of the head when he gives them to her. It’s not him wanting to be the rich one showing off, or the powerful one of the two, he just doesn't know how else to show his affection yet. Its how he tries to woo her, but Hyun-ju ends up telling him she doesn't need the gifts or anything to spend time with him! She just wants to be with him

— Gift giving is 100% his love language and quality time is hers🥹<33

— In the games together, his brains and her skills… Them teaming up would be dangerous for everyone else, they could win every game so fast but- Hyun-ju would be wanting to save all these people and Sang-woo wouldn’t exactly want that, with every aspect he has to consider in each moment. But Hyun-ju knocks sense into Sang-woo and convinces him to help her help the rest of their team and friends they made on the inside.

— He’s smart, cynical and a little dark. So naturally he wants a very large portion of the money for himself, but he really takes into account what she says and softens up. Plus, he’d fold immediately and helps her with everything she asks of him after seeing how much she cares about these people and how they make her happy (and realizing how much he wants to make her happy))

— She helps him learn to be kind. She brings it out of him.

— Hyun-ju also brings out his protective side

— She brings out the best in him and he brings out the worst in her— the part of her that is seething with the world, and he sees that part of her and he loves every part of it. He wants to see the dangerous, strategic and tactical part (he sort of sees himself in her, although she is much more unconditionally nice), the spiteful part of her. But he also very much loves the overwhelmingly large sweet side of her. The caring and kind part that makes up most of who she is.

— Meeting in the middle of the good and bad parts of themselves, they use their skills together to win the games with the people they’ve grown to care about in there.

— After they’re out, he follows her to Thailand. Knowing how precious she is, how different and unlike anyone he’s ever met before, he'd never let her go ever again

— Late at night just two of them they’d smoke cigarettes on the beach and watch the stars twinkle

— Sang-woo would propose in a shockingly fast amount of time, under the bright moonlight of a full moon, completely silent other than the sound of waves washing up on the beach. The Intimate moment shared only between the two.

— (Hyun-ju totally cries and is a little bit in disbelief, but saying yes would be the easiest decision of her life)

— Him being so traditional, he puts a big-big diamond ring on her finger and absolutely loves it, as does she

— Their play-fights would turn into a real competition fast. At first, Hyun-ju would feign weakness and lose. But once she gets more comfortable around him, she'd let loose and let herself show her true strength and be her honest unapologetic self. She never thought it was possible to be so okay with being herself with another person. And to be so validated doing so. During their first “playfight” where she lets herself use more strength and technique, she surprises him and catches him off guard, pinning him to the ground. He looks at her in with a small expression of awe, while attempting to be as respectful as ever, he wouldn’t be able to hide the look of amazement on his face

— He's smitten with her strength, her mind, her abilities, to be kind, to be selfish. All of it, all of them.

— And she would love him the very same, and knock some much needed sense into this man

-

I <3 Hyun-ju x Sang-woo

[shnoob]

Sal Fisher Dating HC's:

A/N: Back with more Sally Face! <3

C/W: All fluff!! 

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

SOOO attentive! He will listen to anything and everything you have to say, even the nonsense rambles. He loves LOVES hearing you talk, so keep it up!! (Yapper x Listener dynamic). 

Remembers every little detail of you like he lives in your mind (you definitely live rent free in his!!). Even something small like your favorite sweater he’ll remember, and make sure its clean so that way you can wear it.  

He also is attentive on things that you have, such as if you have a favorite scent. If you run out, he would notice and buy you another when the time is right.

He isnt the type of guy to “boast” about his relationship, since he feels like those little details of you guys are private. However that doesnt mean he is afraid to show you off or talk about it, when given the chance and seen appropriate he has no problem talking all about you. 

(With modern day), his phone screen is definitely a picture of you holding Gizmo. 

100% talks about you with Larry. Him and I are extremely close to the point Larry knew Sal had a crush on you before he did. Larry is asking him every so often how you guys are doing, and thats where Sal gets to dump out his romantic feelings for you without having it feel weird. 

His love languages would be gift giving, quality time and acts of service. He struggles to find the words to show how he cares and I feel like he would be very awkward with physical touch (atleast at first) because hes worried on messing up, so gift giving is his way showing he is VERY intrested in you. He also LOVES taking care of other people, so being able to show the person he loves that he cares AND gets to take care of you? Win win. The icing on the cake; being able to spend hours with you whenever it be out and about or just in silence it means so so much to him.

If you struggled to sleep one night, he would be on his way to be beside you and sing to you to sleep. Especially if you had nightmares he would be so delicate with you. Clean blankets, water, anything you’d need he’d be right there for you. 

Would make little songs for you on his guitar and play them for you as a gift.  

As said before, he wouldnt be physical affecienate right away in fears of you leaving or making you uncomfortable. Once he knows that you are comfortable, he is the most clingy person on planet Earth. Hugs from behind, kiss on the hand, you name it. 

LOVESSS when you kiss his mask. He definitely feels bad that his face is scarred so its not the “normal way to kiss”, but by treating it like that makes him feel so much better. 

Writes you so many love letters. Although he struggles to vocalize his words, putting it down on paper perfectly describes how he feels. You have to keep an entire keepsake with how many letters and other gifts he gives you.  

ALWAYS texts good morning and goodnight. No matter what is going on he will always do his very best to keep up with you. 

Loves you so dearly <3. Always the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up and before he sleeps.

[xylatox]

Criminal Conscience Tape 2!! I'm so excited this absolutely has not left my mind since it was posted, CC Beomgyu is taking over my daily life I fear.

Present Time!!

I love that we are immediately introduced to Kai and in Kai fashion his sweet personality shines through, God, he is adorable. I think it's cute that Kai is worried but can't keep secrets when pressured to confess anything he knows, which fits Kai so much here I think but I love that reader still gives him a well thought out response. I just think the moment is so sweet with the formalities and everything, CC Kai i wanna keep you in my pocket :( I love that we are able to come back to thoughts on Beomgyu even in a moment like this, I think I too would ignore the behaviour of Gyu even if just opting to taking you out to clubs and dark hotel rooms is an obvious red flag.

Past Time!!

Gyu making his mark after their time back then is so prominent, like he is so good, that 3 days feels like forever, the man you are Gyu. Reader is so insane to even think of going to a sketchy location at 2am, and worse yet from an unfamiliar number PLUS you cannot even respond, girl you are absolutely insane; like I get it, Gyu is amazing (we love that) but hoping it's him from something screaming danger is actual insanity.

Finally, there’s light. But it is not the warm and comforting glow of the usual streetlights. No, this is a purple, almost pinkish hue. It paints the brick walls around in a soft sheen. — I LOVE how this is phrased especially since the light not giving its usual warmth kind of reflects the situation at hand it how it feels. And the man of the hour🫠 suddenly all my yapping about safety and red flags goes over my head; the Dollface will ALWAYS get me I fear.

Beomgyu huffs at your question, his lips pulling into a small smirk as he nods. “Clever girl.” — I am so downbad for Gyu like what the fuck, this is not okay for my health.

Beomgyu’s hand slithers around your waist, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “Dollface. This is my old friend, Duri.” ... Beomgyu doesn’t give you an opportunity to protest, his demanding grip steering you toward the booth, sliding in next to Duri as he pulls you along.  — there's something so attractive of the dominant aura Gyu holds here, from his grip, to him not letting your name be known, I'm on my knees.

Reader overthinking the moment is cute and valid, I feel like from Gyu's current vibes he definitely has an ulterior motive for her being there, just from the fact that she met Duri and the place Gyu asked her to meet is so clearly for a certain category of people and much less people who are so aware of Gyu's presence makes it so much more interesting.

“Why, you seem to know everything about me.” It was supposed to come across as a joke, friendly banter if you will. But Beomgyu’s eyes twinkle with something beyond mischief, something slightly darker, something dangerously close to lust. “You’d be surprised”, is all he says, leaning back against the velvet cushion as he sips on his own drink. What was that supposed to mean?  — WHAT THE FUCKKKK that was so hot🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ I technically should be super concerned by that response because of course, how much does Gyu really know but currently any semblance of sense is gone in this moment.

Beomgyu groans, “Fuck dollface, you ask a lot of questions.” His free hand slides up your arm, moving to the nape of your neck as he brings your lips to his in a hot kiss. Beomgyu was good at avoiding questions, perhaps a little too good — we really shouldve taken the avoidance as a second warning but...Gyu is hot so...how bad can it be....right?

Present Time!!

God, I absolutely love Gyu's questioning, the way he evades the questions with ease and how he's also able to press reader's buttons and strip her professionalism in the way that he does. I LOVE that the red lipstick makes its name once again and returns, like, reader subconsciously holding on to the past in some way...

Beomgyu smirks, his fingers coming to a halt on the metal of the table in front of him. “You still look fucking irresistible in it”, he says, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.  — he's such a tease I don't think I can live through this actually. I love that we get the background on how the red lipstick came to be, Gyu is so ARGH yknow.

Past Time!!

I think that Beomgyu using different burner phones each time to contact is insane and clearly another bad sign. It was the first time he’d left before you fell asleep. — this actually breaks my heart. The more I see of Gyu, the more I don't blame reader to try to see past the walls he has up even if the red flags are there because he's just addictive yknow.

TAEHYUN MY LOVE😭😭 I did NOT except to see him in a past memory but I'm not complaining (also slightly scared for his fate in the series now) but my baby :((((((( He so clearly likes reader too oh my god I'm actually going to sob, I did not except to have to face this position rn.

The actual fear I had in my body when Duri makes a reappearance what the freak!! and the fact that he remembers AND has the audacity to use Gyu's nickname for us? (gross and stinky I do not like him)

I do love the moment between reader and Taehyun:( he's such a boba eyed sweetheart I will always love him ugh.

Present Time!!

Loving all the criminal talk and reasonings behind everything rn with reader and Yeonjun, it makes my nerdy crime obsessed self so happy and the fact that Beomgyu presumably waited before making the kill further solidifies how insane this situation is, I'm so invested (I'm lowkey hoping he actually didn't murder the guy😭 but it def isn't looking good considering everything yknow)

Past Time!!

Beomgyu seemingly knowing everything about reader is so interesting! Like how many connections do you have to meet her at her university.

You watch as he makes his way across the parking lot with his hands in his pocket. Once he makes it halfway across does he turn to look at you. The smirk stretching across his face made your heart leap. “You comin’ or not, dollface?” — oh my god. the ending. Does she go or not I need to know😭.

Serene!! this was so good, I'm sorry the review came out longer than I intended but I loved every minute of Tape 2, it was so amazing and I'm left with so many questions pertaining to the reader and to the crime they are trying to unfold. Looking forward to the other tapes!!♡

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 02

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings drinking, kissing, red flag beomgyu but what's new, references to them hooking up, descriptions of blood/gore/murder, surprisingly little warnings for such a long tape, but it's just... vibes through and through I can't explain it okay?

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, this one's a mouthful, but that's only because it's the original 02 and 03 merged heh, plus my own fleshed out version of course. hmm, I really like this part though, a personal favourite :3 absolutely would cry if I got to hear ur thoughts on it !!

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 02 ] — Red Lipstick Stains recording length: 9.8k

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Is everything alright?” 

Kai’s light voice slices through the dark clouds looming over your head and your gaze snaps up to meet his. “You’ve barely touched your food”, he says as he motions toward your still full plate. You follow his line of sight, heaving a small sigh as you prop your head on one of your hands. 

“Not feeling particularly hungry today I suppose”, You mumble as you push said food around leisurely with your fork. It was kind of Kai to offer you lunch like this, your junior often did his best in trying to please his colleagues, sometimes you wondered if Kai ever gave himself credit for his hard work. 

Kai puts his own fork down as he swallows. His big brown eyes search yours, much to no avail as you keep them trained to your plate with a displeased frown. He clears his throat, “Does it have anything to do with your new case this morning?” He asks the question hesitantly, like he was afraid of stepping on a nerve he wasn’t supposed to. 

Finally, you lift your gaze to look at him. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder your next words carefully. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Kai, but Yeonjun had made it clear that what you were doing was technically against policy. Besides, Kai had never been one to keep secrets, especially not when pressured into confessings, which he more than often was. 

“Partly..” You slowly admit, “But for the most part I’m just tired, it’s been a long week as is.” You give a weak shrug as you reach for your glass, sipping on your water unenthusiastically. Kai, on the other hand, doesn't seem convinced as he studies you with a small frown. Still, he seems to respect your boundaries and doesn’t try to pry further. 

You give him a faint smile, “Sorry, I’m not exactly good company right now.” But your junior quickly shakes his head, immediately objecting. — “You’re always great company, noona.” Both the compliment and the formality makes your smile widen, Kai really was adorable. 

“You’re great company too, Huening.” 

He blushes furiously at that as he quickly occupies himself with his own food. You liked spending time with Kai, he was easygoing, despite his somewhat awkward compliments. The atmosphere always felt light when he was around. The restaurant he’d taken you to was small and quaint, situated just across the park. And though the flowers had yet to bloom and the treetops remained naked, you found it a beautiful sight. 

Beomgyu had rarely taken you out to restaurants. In fact, he’d rarely taken you out at all, anywhere besides those clubs and dark hotel rooms at least. Back then you failed to see the issue with that, but then again, there were a lot of things you had disregarded in better judgement of Choi Beomgyu. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — March 31st 2022 

Three days was actually an awfully long time when you waited for something. And it felt even longer when you didn’t know if what you waited for would ever come. In fact, these past three days had felt like three years. — 72 excruciatingly long hours without Beomgyu, and for every single one of those hours, you had not stopped thinking about him. 

On your way to class, in class, at work, at home, with Kayla. Oh. That’s right. You had yet to tell your friend about your quickie out in the alleway. It was better that way, or at least so you thought. She would only scold you for going against her words... But what if they had been said out of jealousy? You shouldn’t take them too seriously, right? 

Sex wouldn’t kill you. — But it would definitely get you addicted. 

This newfound abstinence somehow grew with each passing day. You thought you would’ve moved on by now, forgotten him, just like he’d forgotten you. It was obvious that what had transpired between the two of you three days ago had merely been an exchange of pleasure. Beomgyu hadn’t as much as looked back when you parted ways, neither had he given you his number, or taken yours. 

It was a one time thing, no strings attached, literally. Perhaps his nonchalance after sharing such an intimate moment should’ve been your first warning. 

Briefly you wondered if things would’ve turned out differently, had you taken a cab home that night and forgot about the alluring stranger. But there was no changing the past, and now you were to live with this decision, for as long as you could remember.

It was late, well past midnight on a Tuesday night when your otherwise dry phone chimed with a notification. The bright screen illuminates your dark bedroom, and your attention diverts from the coursebook in your lap and over to the small device. With a perplexed frown, you reach for it. As you squint against the near blinding brightness, you find an unfamiliar number on screen.

The sender had left one message. An address and a time. 

2am.. And in an area you did not recognize. A small and uneasy feeling settling within the pits of your stomach as you re-read the text over and over. Despite every reasonable sense in your body practically screaming for you to block whoever this was and forget about it, you can’t seem to find it in you. 

Instead your shaky fingers begin to type out a reply. 

“Who is this?”

Message not delivered. Huh? Why wouldn’t it let you… Something was wrong, very wrong. But despite your inner turmoil, the winning side ends up being the one that forces you out of bed as you stumble toward your dresser. — The sender had left no signature, yet you were almost certain of its source. A small sense of hope surges through you, and it is what compels you to go through with this utterly idiotic decision. 

Your arms wrap around your skimpily dressed body. Spring has yet to take hold on the biting frost that still lingered. With urgent steps, you scurry through the narrow alleyway. The light of your phone screen illuminated your way amongst the unfamiliar buildings and the further you got from the main street, the heavier your heart grew. Had this been a mistake? What if someone was luring you out here to kill you? 

Finally, there’s light. But it is not the warm and comforting glow of the usual streetlights. No, this is a purple, almost pinkish hue. It paints the brick walls around in a soft sheen. Your pulse quickens as you near the entrance of what you assumed to be another nightclub. It was strange.. You hadn’t heard of this one, nor was it anywhere to be found online. 

There’s a man by the doorway. You find your gaze lingering by his broad shoulders, his thick arms looking ready to rip through the tight shirt he wore. Your breath hitches in your throat when you catch a glimpse of the multiple tattoos of different symbolism covering his veiny forearms. Did he not get cold? 

The bouncer looks down at you, for he was tall as a skyscraper, and raises a brow. “You lost?” He asks, his voice is gruff, carrying a mocking tone as he watches you expectantly. — Nervously you shift on the spot, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly as you fumble for words. “I uh…” 

He chuckles, the sound echoing through the alleyway as he throws his head back. “It’s alright - What you’re looking for is probably down the street and to your right.” He nods in said direction, a smug grin stretching across his lip when his gaze falls on you once more. — “It’s more, your style”, he slowly adds. 

You can’t help the offended frown that flashed across your face. Your style? Sure you wouldn’t argue over the fact that this was unlike anything you’d usually do. But this was just insulting. How dare he speak to you like that, how dare he… — Oh but who were you kidding? You looked nothing like those who would spend half their awake time here. 

What were you even thinking, coming here, all alone no less? There was no way you would be let inside. — Such a waste of time. 

With a heavy sigh, you readjust your grip on the small handbag you’d brought, turning on your heel as you prepare to leave, when suddenly, a voice calls for you. It’s familiar, much so that it makes your stomach flip as you freeze up. Beomgyu. — Slowly glancing over your shoulder, your eyes lock with his dark ones. 

Beomgyu pushes past the bouncer who immediately gives a quick bow and steps aside. “Dollface”, he exhales, the nickname still sticking as he wraps an arm around your waist, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. “You made it.” 

You can barely protest as he pulls you to his side, your bodies clashing against one another as he heads for the entrance he’d just emerged from. Upon passing the bouncer you think you might hear him whisper something to the man under his breath, though you remain unsure of what exactly transpired between the two. 

Given your not-so-broad expertise of clubs, you would say that at first glance, this place was no different. But as Beomgyu leads you through the crowded dance floor you slowly begin to realize that this was something entirely new. — This whole place felt almost exquisite, and the people here seemed aware of it. 

There was no bar, instead drinks were being served by the many waiters pacing the outlines of the main floor, all of them wearing the same black uniform. Large, velvet clad booths line the walls, and you expect Beomgyu to take you to one of them. — His gaze, however, seems fixed on the large staircase on the other side of the room. 

Quickly you notice the lingering glances you receive. Well, the lingering glances he receives. All eyes seemed to be on him as Beomgyu swerves his way through the crowd. Did he know these people? Did they know him? They have to, given the way they all stepped aside when he passed. 

You, on the other hand, were barely spared as much as a quick look, apart from a nasty scowl delivered by one of the many hooker-looking women. — What made Beomgyu so special here? 

Suddenly, his hand on your lower back feels heavy, like his fingers were going to sink into your skin and leave a permanent indent. If Beomgyu felt their stares, it didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. Biting down a shudder, you keep your gaze trained ahead as you follow along, reaching the grand staircase with a sigh of relief. 

When you make it to the top, a pair of double doors are immediately swung open and you step inside. Your eyes scan the more desolate area, drinking in the expensive looking furniture, the extravagant booths and the quiet murmur of those chatting with one another. Suddenly you understood… “Isn’t this the VIP section?” 

Beomgyu huffs at your question, his lips pulling into a small smirk as he nods. “Clever girl.” 

As he steers you toward one of the larger booths, you realize that you wouldn’t be all alone. A man who looked to be in his late twenties sits by the round table, his leg propped on one knee as he swishes a drink in his hand. You did not recognize him, but had you seen him out on the streets one lonesome night, your first instinct would have been to run. 

“Duri!” Beomgyu’s exclamation carries out into the otherwise quiet but hot air and the man lifts his head as he peers in your direction. He sets his drink down, shifting in his seat when the two of you approach. — “And here I was beginning to think you had stood me up”, Duri says, a wide grin on his face. His gaze drifts to Beomgyu’s hand, still secure on your lower back. 

“Ah”, he exhales, “Now I see what kept you from me.” He sends you a not-so-subtle wink, but it didn’t feel the same way it had when Beomgyu did it. 

You clear your throat, it would be rude not to introduce yourself, right? — “Hi, uh…I..” Upon giving him a small, rather awkward wave, Duri suddenly bursts into laughter. He continues for a good thirty seconds, despite neither you or Beomgyu joining in, the latter seemingly unamused. 

“Pretty little thing you’ve got there”, Duri comments as he brings his glass to his lips, “What’s your name, love?” 

“Oh! It’s-” 

Beomgyu’s hand slithers around your waist, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “Dollface. This is my old friend, Duri.” He gestures to the man in front of you, giving him an unenthusiastic look that contradicted his previous excitement. “Duri, this is dollface.” Beomgyu doesn’t give you an opportunity to protest, his demanding grip steering you toward the booth, sliding in next to Duri as he pulls you along. 

He doesn’t seem to notice the frown on your face upon settling against the cushion. “Nice to meet you”, Duri says, eyeing you carefully over the rim of his glass. — “Uh, you too..” You shyly mumble, squeaking when Beomgyu’s hand finds place on your thigh, his cold rings stinging your bare skin. 

His free hand quickly calls a waiter over who seems to be stumbling on his feet to get to your booth faster. Beomgyu’s eyes are suddenly on you, “What d’you want, dollface?” — Taken aback, you glance between him and the waiter, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

Beomgyu nods, turning back to the waiter with an indifferent expression. “My usual, make it two.” — As the man scurries off, you force yourself to relax as Beomgyu and Duri indulge in a conversation regarding topics you had little knowledge of. They used words and slang you couldn’t recognize, speaking in hushed voices, as if being eavesdropped on. 

Left with your own thoughts, your mind wanders back to just a few moments prior. Why hadn’t he introduced you? Was he ashamed, but why bring you along in the first place then. Your eyes drift to Beomgyu’s hand on your thigh, his fingers moving absentmindedly over your naked skin, making light tapping motions. 

Why had he invited you here tonight? You thought it had been for easy sex, but as you sit here, your back pressed against the expensive velvet, everything felt a little too formal. Did he have an ulterior motive for bringing you out here, and if so, what? 

You could feel the heavy stares sent your way, people were always looking, as if Beomgyu was some sort of artifact. They were never really looking at you, but you somehow felt as if placed under a microscope. — It was almost thrilling in a way, sitting so close to the thing everyone in the room silently seemed to desire, for reasons you couldn’t quite understand. 

“Open up.” 

Beomgyu’s thick voice pulls you from your trail of thoughts. Startled, you blink as the cool surface of glass presses against your lips. Obliging, you let him pour the liquor into your waiting mouth. It burns your throat, yet leaves an almost sweet aftertaste. “This is good..” You murmur, taking the glass from his hand. 

The smirk on his lips only grows, “Knew you’d like it, dollface.” 

His statement makes your chest flutter and you feel your own lips pull into a small grin. “Why, you seem to know everything about me.” It was supposed to come across as a joke, friendly banter if you will. But Beomgyu’s eyes twinkle with something beyond mischief, something slightly darker, something dangerously close to lust. 

“You’d be surprised”, is all he says, leaning back against the velvet cushion as he sips on his own drink. What was that supposed to mean? 

You had almost forgotten Duri, and you jumped in your seat when he suddenly clears his throat. “Well, it seems my date for tonight has arrived.” He rises to his feet, chugging the last of his drink before setting his glass down. “Pleasure meeting you ‘dollface’..” He gives you one final glance, scoffing before walking off to join one of the girls a few booths away. 

Beomgyu doesn’t pay him any further attention, his gaze fixed on something far ahead as he mindlessly drinks. — “Who was he?” You can’t help but ask, feeling your curiosity gnawing away at you. 

“An old friend”, he simply shrugs, clearly ready to discard the matter. But you were far from satisfied with his nonchalant response. — “Then why didn’t you introduce me, if he’s an old friend I mean?” 

The small frown creasing his forehead was the first of actual expressions you’d seen on him. “I did.” He replies shortly, setting his glass down on the small table in front of you. Shaking your head, you twist in your seat to look at him fully. “Why not my name?” 

You knew your persistence was getting to him when he sighed. “What’s it to him?” He was sounding almost defensive now, his agitated response only riling you up further as you sought answers. “So? He’s your friend.” 

“Perhaps…” Beomgyu exhales, his attention now turned to Duri who was feeling up the girl he’d joined not even three minutes ago. “But not one you should be acquainted with.” — “Why?” 

Beomgyu groans, running a hand across his face tiredly. “You’re being really difficult here, sweetheart..” — “Did he do something bad?” This time you couldn’t refrain from asking, from crossing a line you knew you couldn’t return from. 

“Haven’t we all?” He counters upon emptying the last of his drink and his words sound almost solemn. You frown, “Yes but-” 

“Drop it dollface.” His voice is cold, causing a shiver to run down your spine, leaving no room for arguments as he slams his glass down on the table. You gulp as your gaze drops to the drink in your hand, its once sweet taste now sour on your tongue. Was he angry with you? You couldn’t tell, for Beomgyu’s expression remained stoic as his hand returned to your thigh. 

His answer made you certain of one thing though. Duri was someone who did things he shouldn’t. You recall Kayla’s last words about Shay, about the substance abuse, about Beomgyu. Would that mean that he also… No. Maybe he just bought from him every now and then? A small amount couldn’t be that bad right? As long as he had it under control. 

Back then you didn’t know it. But Beomgyu loved his control, more than a lot of things, more than a lot of people. — You glance up at him once more, a thousand questions prodding at your lips, you choose one. 

“How did you get my number?” 

Beomgyu groans, “Fuck dollface, you ask a lot of questions.” His free hand slides up your arm, moving to the nape of your neck as he brings your lips to his in a hot kiss. Beomgyu was good at avoiding questions, perhaps a little too good. 

That should’ve been your second warning. 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

Beomgyu had barely changed during the ten months you’d gone without seeing him. His hair was still the same pitch black, though a bit more unkempt and thinner by the ends. He had acquired dark circles under his eyes, they made his face appear more hollow. It was almost like life itself had been drained out of him. — Yet his charisma persisted, and Beomgyu took every opportunity he could grasp in order to push and prod at your buttons. 

You rarely found yourself in doubt of your own abilities. In fact, you had been outstanding amongst your peers during your months in training. And to interrogate, to break even the most coldhearted criminal with your mere words, there was an undeniable satisfaction in that. But as soon as you had stepped foot inside the room you had been trained in for so long, all confidence was lost on you. 

How could you ever see through him, through Beomgyu. For over a year you had been trying to read him. To crack him open and peer into his mind. Sure, you had been taught different techniques and methods now, you’d practiced and then practiced again. This wasn’t the same, far from it. For Beomgyu was nothing like anyone you’d ever met before. 

Just looking at him right now made your head spin. 

“What’s your relationship to the victim?” You school your voice into professionalism, into a cool and detached one. No matter how hard of a front you put up, it felt as if he could see right through it. — Beomgyu doesn’t meet your gaze, making it impossible for you to look for clues within his eyes. He twists the rings on his fingers, one by one, almost methodically. 

A smirk you knew all too well tugs across his lips. “What’s your relationship to that man?” 

Your mind goes blank, your brows raising on your forehead as you glance around. The room was empty, just like it had been for the past thirty minutes. — “Please don’t divert from the subject when we’re-” 

“The one in the doorway earlier.” He’s not giving up, and you push back a shudder when his dark eyes flicker up to yours. It was clear that he was looking for an easy entry into your head. He was searching for any kind of insecurity you might hold, he would puncture it and slither inside, just like he always did. 

You recall the afternoon’s events, thinking back to your lunch with Kai. Carelessly you had let him drop you off by the interrogation rooms. Had Beomgyu seen him? That would be your only explanation. “That was my colleague”, you say, keeping your expression stoic, even when Beomgyu’s smirk widens. 

“Really?” He drawls, and whether he kept going because the matter intrigued him, or if it was to waste time on irrelevant topics, you didn’t know. His dark eyes flicker between yours and the door which you had emerged from half an hour ago. “Didn’t look like it to me.” 

There he goes again, spewing his nonsense as he waits for you to eat from his palm. Just like you used to. He didn’t have that power over you anymore, you told yourself that. — “What you think does not matter.” Your hands reach for files in front of you as you readjust them, buying yourself some much needed time as your attention diverts to the pictures attached. 

“What? He your boyfriend or something?” 

His question comes out half a statement, half a huff. A short breath of disbelief, an almost menacing look on his face. But you’re not stupid enough not to catch the subtle tick of his jaw, the way his dark eyes narrowed, if just a little. He rocks his chair back on its hind legs, patiently waiting for your response as he tries to gauge your reaction. After everything, he still thought he had a say in anything regarding your life, regarding you. 

“He might be”, you shrug, already flipping through the files in order to avoid confronting the topic head on. It was a lie of course. He didn’t have to know that. Beomgyu had lied to you too, at one point, it had gotten hard to differentiate any of the reality that had been vowed between his lies. 

“Bullshit.” 

The sound of his cuffed hands slamming against the old metal table is deafening, the front legs of his chair hit the ground once more with an equally empowering thud. He leans forward now, even more than what was both professionally and emotionally appropriate for either of you. — Briefly you thought that Yeonjun might interrupt, and you listen for the door. But he never comes. 

You don’t flinch, not even when his hot breath tickles your face. His brows furrow, the corner of his lips twitching. “He’s not your type”, Beomgyu plainly states, the words falling from his lips are so close that you could practically taste them on your own. — “Who says?” You quickly retort, immediately scolding yourself for letting your professionalism falter. 

Your small slip up doesn’t pass him unnoticed and Beomgyu smirks. “C’mon dollface, you forget I know everything about you.” — “Knew.” You’re quick to interrupt him, your voice sharp and almost snappy. “You knew everything about me.” 

“People change Beomgyu, I changed.” Your professionalism was slipping at a dangerous rate. You didn’t care. The satisfaction of hearing those very words leave your own two lips was far more enticing than the policy you had to follow. 

Beomgyu’s expression remains unfazed, his brows slightly raised on his forehead as he watches you with calculating eyes. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip mindlessly. Ring clad fingers tapping against the metal table rhythmically, mimicking the tick of a clock, the sound ringing in your ears. You swallow, forcing your breathing to remain regulated as you place your files down. “Let’s hold here for today.” 

The screech of your chair against the stone floor pierces the air as you stand up. Dusting off your pants, you intend to not spare him as much as a second glance when you head for the door. The cool handle sends a small spark of electricity through your palm as you grip it tight. But before you get the chance to turn it and step outside, Beomgyu speaks; 

“Is red his favorite color too?” 

Your body feels ice cold, your heart catching in your throat and your eyes widening as you gaze ahead. “What?” You echo as you slowly turn to face him. He chuckles, but the laugh holds no warmth. Not until his dark eyes fall on your lips do you realize what he’s talking about. Without being able to stop yourself, your fingers reach up to touch the fresh coat of paint you’d applied after lunch. 

The red lipstick that you had accidentally brought along this morning, the one you were supposed to get rid of. It had been but a mere coincidence right… The way it had presented itself so nicely on your dresser earlier that day. 

Beomgyu smirks, his fingers coming to a halt on the metal of the table in front of him. “You still look fucking irresistible in it”, he says, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You look away, not wanting to face him a second longer. It was torturous, everything about him was. It instantly reminded you of why you had walked away all those months ago, of why you had tried so hard to forget him, to bury him within the depths of your mind, somewhere unattainable. 

“My boyfriend thinks so too.” It’s all you say before quickly turning on your heel and swinging the door open. Your heart pounds in your chest as you step outside. Slamming the door shut behind you with a loud thud, you lean against it as you try to compose yourself. 

Fuck, he still made you dizzy. 

That night turned into a sleepless one. Spent going through the remnants of Beomgyu, the pieces of him you still carried. Many times you’d been at war with yourself. One side argued that you should rid yourself of him completely, start anew, in a reality without him. The other side, the one that felt more than it thought, desperately clung onto him, in every way it could. That side made you replay every single memory shared with him, the good and the bad ones, it made you cry deep into the night and it made you scream in frustration and anger. Yet it always seemed to win. 

You turn the lipstick in your hands, fingers gliding against the smooth tube. It had come in a small box, wrapped in gold and tied with a red bow. Your hands had trembled as you undid the ribbon, and Beomgyu had been watching you intently. — You could still feel the weight of his hand on your lower back, the other one caressing your thighs swung over his lap. 

When you had plucked the lid, revealing the shiny artifact, your eyes had widened. Your lips parted delicately as you glanced between the lipstick and him. “I… Beomgyu this is…” You had barely been able to finish your sentence, too astonished by the gift before you. 

“Try it.” He exhales, his breath warm against the side of your face. With a small nod of your head you screwed the bottom of the tube, revealing the deep red lipstick. The cosmetic melted across your lips like butter, and you carefully spread an even layer, painfully aware of his eyes on you. 

Gently smacking your lips once, you turn to Beomgyu, shy gaze meeting his hungry one. His thumb brushed along your chin, swiping away any excess product. “Now you look like a real doll”, he’d murmured, knuckles caressing your heated cheeks. 

“I’ll wear it”, you had whispered as you leaned into his touch. And Beomgyu had hummed, a soft sound of approval as he’d pressed his lips against your freshly painted ones. 

“Good, red is my favorite color.” 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 10th 2022 

Beomgyu was difficult. Not in the sense where he was vague. Because whenever the two of you saw one another it would always lead to sex, he would make sure of that. Naturally you thought it was a mutual benefit situation going on. It wasn’t something you were opposed to, even if the idea hadn’t enticed you before. He was just… different. 

It would always go the same way. He sent you an address and a time, you showed up. It was a simple deal, one that had occurred without either of you confirming it out loud. For each instance he would use a different number, an untraceable one. At first you’d tried to show disinterest in the matter, to act like it didn’t bother you. But the truth was it did, a lot. 

Usually it’d be a club, never the same as the last, and he would make sure to get you alone as quickly as he could. Tonight was different, tonight he’d booked a hotel room, just for the two of you. And in the darkness, where only the sounds of your panting breaths lingered once he’d pulled out, you suddenly found your thoughts wandering. 

Usually you’d pass out quickly, feeling oddly comforted in his warm embrace. But tonight you’re wide awake. He is too, for his fingers draw lazy patterns on your naked hip. You swallow, blinking twice as you try to push the images from your head, biting back the questions waiting on your tongue. You didn’t want to ruin this moment, it felt fragile, like one misstep could shatter the entire thing. 

Yet the aftermath of your orgasm still surged within the depths of your stomach. It gave you confidence you usually lacked. Craning your neck, you turn your face to peer up at him. Still unable to make out his expression in the dark, you hesitate, if only for a second before asking the one question that had been on your mind for nearly two weeks. 

“Why won’t you give me your number?” 

Your words felt deafening, like church bells ringing through the air a quiet Sunday morning. Beomgyu doesn't answer, his chest rising and falling under your cheek as his fingers stop on your hip. Had you overstepped? No, this was a perfectly reasonable question. So what was the problem? 

Beomgyu heaves a sigh, the huff of air blowing over the top of your head. “Don’t got one”, he replies, his voice echoing through the hotel room. 

Confused, you lift your head as you squint toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He shrugs, “Means I don’t got one.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitating. “Then how am I supposed to contact you?” Once the questions started spilling from your lips it seemed impossible to stop. You could tell he was getting annoyed by the second. — “You’re not”, he firmly states. His words manage to kill any lingering lust and warmth, the room suddenly felt cold. 

It was then, in that moment, that you realized that your relationship with Beomgyu was nothing more than a casual and mutual exchange of pleasure. You should’ve known that, suppose part of you always had, but his statement made it all the more clear. With a solemn expression you stare up at the ceiling, quietly mulling over his words. 

Sometimes it felt as if Beomgyu was made of ice. It was nearly impossible to get close, and even when you did, there was a thick layer concealing him. Nothing you said seemed to get him to melt, and anything regarding his personal life was kept stored deep within the cold. 

Beneath you Beomgyu shifts and you soon feel the warmth of his body disappear as he climbs out of bed. He doesn’t bother turning on the light but you can hear him pulling his clothes back on as he prepares to leave. — With a quiet kiss to your forehead he says, “I’ll text you.” And with that he was gone. 

It was the first time he’d left before you fell asleep. 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 17th 2022 

Days went by after that, and you didn’t hear from Beomgyu once. And when a whole week had passed since your night at the hotel, you were beginning to think that perhaps you never would. But if it was one thing you would come to learn about him, it was that you never had him where you thought you did. 

You were halfway through your morning lecture when you got his notification. A new number, a new address, just like usual. The relief and excitement that immediately flooded your senses should have been concerning. Did you long for him much so that even a simple text could get you worked up? It was almost as if you had become addicted. Everytime the unknown number flashed across your screen you knew that you would be getting your next fix. 

Anticipation flowed through your veins and you hurriedly stashed your books in your bag as soon as your professor finished talking. There was little time to waste. You walk with quick and fast paced strides, ignoring any of your classmates that tried to approach, all with friendly smiles on their faces. Any other day but today, you thought. Because today was about him. 

You reach the parking lot, all the way to your car and with your hand on the handle, a small tap to your shoulder makes you freeze. Twisting around on the spot, your eyes widen as they land on your slightly panting classmate.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Taehyun, I didn’t realize you were..” 

Your classmate waves a dismissing hand, shaking his head as he catches his breath. “It’s alright”, Taehyun clears his throat, a small grin spreading across his face. Taehyun was perhaps the only friend you had made during your time spent studying criminal justice. He was easy to talk to, and made your courses somewhat easier. You would often partner up for group projects, and this time around was no different. 

“I was wondering if you’re free tonight, for our project y’know..” He mumbles as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance between your waiting classmate and the phone still gripped tightly in your hand. — You were supposed to meet Beomgyu tonight. 

Then again, was it really such a good idea to put your own personal needs and pleasure above your important studies, not to mention Taehyun’s as well? Beomgyu had seemingly little care for your own schedule, yet you were breaking your back trying to be there at his every beck and call. — Your eyes meet Taehyun’s hopeful ones, and in that moment you can’t bring yourself to tell him no. Fact is he had actually asked you like a decent human being, rather than sending a simple text from what could only be a burner phone. 

“If you’re not free we can totally reschedule..” — “Does 6:30 work for you?” 

Taehyun blinks, seemingly taken aback before quickly nodding, “Sure!” 

Perhaps this was just what you needed, a little distraction. Part of you wondered what would happen when you didn’t show up tonight, another part didn’t want to find out. 

⸝⸝

Your afternoon was spent like most, cleaning tables at the restaurant in which you worked part time. The hours didn’t pay a lot, but it was enough to get you through the month as you balance your studies. Having hit off with both the owners and their son, you often found yourself staying for dinner or even getting sent home leftovers from the day. Their kindness was remarkable and you made sure to work hard in order to repay them. 

It was nearing the end of your shift, the restaurant was fairly vacant and you had all but much to do. Upon clearing the last table, the doorbell suddenly chimed, announcing the arrival of new customers. Instinctively you turn to greet them — only to freeze in your tracks as your eyes fall on the small party of men. They were all dressed head to toe in black, some even wearing sunglasses despite the early spring season. 

The man by the very front caught your eye and your heart leapt out of your chest when you connected his face with a name. 

“You got any tables for five?” Duri’s booming voice sounds through the painstakingly empty room. He sounded nothing like the playful and almost flirtatious Duri you had met a couple of weeks ago. You nod, “This way”, you say, trying your best to swallow down the lump in your throat as you lead them toward a secluded table by the corner. 

Upon handing them the menu, your gaze keeps flickering back to Duri. He had yet to show any signs of recognition and you were starting to think that perhaps he hadn’t recognized you at all. A temporary sense of relief washes over you, one that would quickly be disrupted as you begin taking orders. You save him for last, turning to him with the most friendly smile you could muster. 

Duri remains quiet, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It didn't remind you of Beomgyu in the slightest, this man felt almost disgusting in a way. “Surprise me”, he then says before slamming the menu book shut. 

It isn’t until the kitchen doors fall shut behind you that you breathe out the tension you had allowed to build up during the past five minutes. What were the odds? Of all the restaurants why did he… You shake your head, dragging a tired hand down your face as you stifle a groan. — If he had recognized you, why didn’t he say something? 

You glance down to the notepad in your hand, their orders scribbled down hastily as you hurried to get away from them. The word “surprise” seems taunting as your eyes linger on the messy ink. A small frown tugs on your brows and you quietly tap the paper as an idea enters your mind. 

When bringing their food back out, you make sure to place Duri’s plate last, a rather strategic mood on your part. Your hands have an undeniable tremble to them as you tuck the folded note under the porcelain, making sure it peeks out just enough for him to see, and him only. Everyone else seems oblivious as they indulge in their meals, not paying you any mind even when you linger by their table for longer than needed. 

Duri on the other hand has noticed the piece of paper. He pulls it out between his middle and index finger, shooting you a questioning glance to which you subtly shake your head. Then he chuckles, the sound building deep within his chest as he shoves the note in his pocket. — You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

With a quick bow you murmur a quiet, “Enjoy”, before turning on your heel and darting back to the kitchen. But before you make it to the large doors does his booming voice make you falter. “Thanks for the food, dollface.” 

⸝⸝

Takeout boxes and empty bottles of soju crowd the small coffee table in Taehyun’s living room. Perched on his old sofa, you and your classmate find yourselves engrossed in schoolwork, just like you had been for the past four hours. Time seemed to have little concept when spent in the presence of Taehyun and you found yourself having a lot more fun than you’d originally intended. 

Together you had been assigned to try and solve one of the many cold cases piling up at the office. It was a thrilling concept, it was something real and not fabricated by your professor for once. Using the little evidence there was, you and Taehyun play through the tape recordings of the few suspects interrogated. 

“Wait, play this part back.” Taehyun mumbles as he reaches for the record player. “Doesn't the ex-boyfriend sound suspicious here? You can clearly hear it in the way his voice breaks.” With his finger on the device, he increases the volume as he plays the tape back. You lean forward, your hands on your knees as you listen to the piece of audio. 

“I dunno..” You shrug, giving him a playful smile, “He sounds just like you.” Taehyun snorts, “As if.” Though he’s unable to refrain from grinning when he catches your giggle. 

“We haven’t played that one yet”, you point toward another cassette and your partner nods in agreement as he reaches for it. “Promise you won’t get scared?” He teases, to which you give his shoulder a push. 

Spending time with Taehyun was freeing, it was easy. But despite that, your subconscious kept wandering back to Beomgyu. A nervous feeling bubbled within your stomach, making your heart beat just a little faster at the thought of him. He’d occupied your mind for weeks now, holding your thoughts hostage and keeping you from focusing on what actually mattered. It was unfair, did he think about you like you thought about him? Hardly. 

And after slipping Duri that note, you could only hope he would receive the news of your changed plans. Would he be angry with you, or would he just not continue to see you at all. Not being able to directly contact him gnawed at you — for you wanted nothing more than to dial a quicker number and hear his voice on the other line, as pathetic as it might sound. 

Suppose it was a good thing after all. Had you had his number you probably wouldn’t be able to refrain from texting him. Yet you felt completely powerless like this, as if he was holding the strings and you were simply dancing along, just like he wanted you to. 

A small, shameful part of you felt jealous. What if he’d called someone else. Surely you weren’t the only woman he saw. But you were still special. He never saw those girls again, they were temporary, so you told yourself. Not you though, you weren’t temporary. You were someone he would call for, over and over again, you were special. 

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” Taehyun’s voice suddenly interrupts and you blink as you glance toward him. “Sorry what?” You dumbfoundedly ask, embarrassed over having spaced out like that. But your classmate only smiles, that stupidly warm and comforting smile of his. — “What do you think it’s going to be like? Out there I mean, when we finally make it.” 

You purse your lips, you had never really thought about it like that. Sure, you had known for a long time that you wanted to be someone who did good, someone who served justice and spoke for those who couldn’t. But you had never actually stopped to think of what it would be like when you were actually out there. 

You send Taehyun a lopsided grin, “I think it’s going to be awesome.” 

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 20th 2024

The sound of car doors slamming shut echo throughout the narrow alleyway. Upon stepping out the distinctive smell of sewage water invades your senses. Yeonjun, too, makes a face of disgust as he steps out beside you. “Fucking hell”, he mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses further up in the process.

The area was run down, yet nothing out of the ordinary. A small apartment complex loomed before you. The building was covered in graffiti and a multitude of its windows had been broken, making you assume that rent stayed on the cheaper end. — You didn’t have to stop and ask what kind of people lived here, you were far too familiar with the setting. Perhaps that was why you felt comfortable with taking the lead as you approached the small stone-staircase leading to the front door. 

Bright yellow tape highlights the door concealing the crime scene, reading out the words ‘DO NOT CROSS’ in bold text. Pushing said tape aside, you rummage your pockets for the set of keys you’d been provided. The old wooden door makes a squeaking side upon being opened as it slowly reveals the tiny flat. 

The sewage smell outside had been a mere foretaste of what was to come, and as the stench of dried blood hit you had to refrain from gagging. Behind you, Yeonjun remains silent as he lets you venture inside first, obviously interested in seeing your take on the scene. And while such a thing would’ve usually honored you, it somehow felt more like a curse today. 

It’s dark inside the apartment. The windows were boarded up in order to divert any unwanted attention and the air had become humid due to the confined space, in turn only increasing the sickly sweet and rotten smell of human blood. 

You mimic your senior’s actions of bringing out a flashlight, flicking it on before pointing it out before you. The frontdoor had led into an all but spacious hallway, following it took you to a tiny living room. — Something about crime scenes always makes you feel a melancholic sense of nostalgia. Whatever scene you were currently witnessing had been the last thing someone else ever had. It was a place where they had taken their very last breath, a time capsule, forever frozen in time. 

Chaos has spread through the open area, and instead of stumbling across a huge pool of blood, you find that it’s everywhere. It covers the coffee table, some having dripped down onto the fluffy carpet beneath. The couch is stained, as are the walls leading out into the bedroom. 

“They fought”, Yeonjun suddenly comments as he squats down by the sofa. He points his flashlight in the direction of the torn pillows, the indent of what had undoubtedly been a knife remaining. “He seems to have put up a hell of a fight”, you murmur as you gaze along the bloody handprints across the lower regions of the walls. 

Your senior hums, “They started in the kitchen”, he gets up and turns toward the archway. You follow him inside the small room, your curiosity at its peak. “How do you know?” You wonder to which Yeonjun pulls out a plastic bag from the large backpack he carried. Your brows rise on your forehead as you survey the bloody knife concealed inside. 

“This”, he says before motioning toward the sets of knives on the countertop and your gaze falls on the empty spot. — “Whoever killed Park Baekhyun attempted it with this knife, which they got from here.” 

Yeonjun gestures toward the entirety of the space as he continues, “Besides, this room is far less blood stained than the living room, meaning the fight most likely erupted here and then progressed outside as the victim tried to flee.” — As you take in the state of the kitchen you realize that he’s right. While the room was certainly messy, with piles of unwashed dishes in the sink as well as old takeout boxes, it never appeared to hold any signs of direct trauma. 

You follow him back into the living room as Yeonjun continues to piece together the events of that night. “The victim used pillows to defend himself”, he pointed toward the torn cushions whose feathers lay scattered across the couch. Then he frowns, “He got hit, and badly.” — Your gaze follows the heavy trail of blood leading toward the bedroom. 

“It’s strange”, Yeonjun mutters under his breath. You can’t help but ask, “What is?” 

Your senior motions toward the handprints covering the lower walls, “He couldn’t walk.” 

Admittedly you didn’t quite understand what that had to do with the matter. So what if he couldn’t walk, his fate was sealed either way, no? But Yeonjun obviously saw something you didn’t. His abilities to tell as much from the situation intrigued you greatly, and you were eager to learn his ways. 

As you approach the doorway leading to the bedroom he says, “The autopsy showed a wound on his right leg. Now, presuming that to be the reason he couldn’t walk he would have to have been crawling, using the walls to push himself forward, that would explain the handprints.” Yeonjun points to the dried blood on the cream white walls and you follow his line of sight. “This would have given the offender a great view of his throat, yet he didn’t kill him here.” 

You frown, why not kill him if he had the opportunity? Why waste time like that unless… “He enjoyed the hunt.” Yeonjun firmly states as he stops on the threshold leading into the bedroom. With a quick glance down the hallway, his eyes linger on the front door. “But why aim for the bedroom and not the way out?” 

“Could there be something important here?” You chime in, rocking back and forth on your heels as you eagerly peek over your seniors shoulder and into the bedroom. Yeonjun nods, “Perhaps.” 

The room itself remains untouched, almost neat if not for the unmade bed and dirty laundry scattered around. Though the struggle of Park Baekhyun remains evident on the floor, a thick and heavy trail of blood dragging past the foot of the bed and into the joint bathroom. 

A queasy feeling settles within your stomach as you approach. Out of all the rooms in the apartment, this somehow felt darker. The air was thicker, the scent of blood stronger and the lingering feeling of death almost crushing. — Once a pearly white, now covered in red was the bathroom. And as soon as you stepped inside, you knew that this was where the victim had taken his last dying breath. 

The mirror, broken into a million tiny pieces, lay scattered across the floor like pieces of an unsolved puzzle. The sink had several large cracks in it, you guessed from banging something or someone against it. 

Worst was the bathtub. Filled to the brim with murky red water, the shower curtains ripped off their hangers, likely a panicked response or one out of pure rage. Bloody hand and finger prints adorn the edge of the tub. — Yeonjun sighs next to you, “Victim’s cause of death was asphyxiation”, he points toward the water, “He drowned.” 

It was then your heart sank as reality finally settled in. This could all be Beomgyu’s doing. At first it had felt surreal, seeing him after so many months. Finding out that he was the prime suspect of this case. You had managed to downplay the whole thing, you had denied, no refused to believe that the man you thought to have loved could have done something like this. It was a reality you had been dying for longer than you wanted to admit. 

But as you see the blood, the way the victim had clung to life until the very end. And Beomgyu had taken that from him. He had taken it without any remorse. And you’d watched the grin playing on his lips when you read the case files, you’d heard the smugness in his voice. He was proud of himself, of what he had done. 

You felt sick to your stomach. A hand clasped over your mouth, you shake your head. The room suddenly felt small, its walls closing in on you, shoving the cold hard truth in your face. 

Beomgyu had killed someone. 

⸝⸝

📼 — April 18th 2022 

You ended up staying over at Taehyun’s place that night, and the next morning you carpooled to school. It was easy to forget when you were with him, and class proved to be just as good of a distraction. Before you knew it 9am had turned into 12pm and you soon found yourself walking out of the lecture hall. 

Kayla was supposed to pick you up as your own car had been left at home. Your eyes scan the parking lot for her familiar little car, but in typical Kayla fashion she was probably running late. Deciding to just wait her out, you approach one of the nearby benches. — The spring day is a surprisingly warm one, a gentle breeze soothing over your face as you pull up your phone in order to try and reach your friend. 

You’ve barely made it down to the letter K in your contact list when someone suddenly takes the seat next to you on the bench. Your thumb hovers above Kayla’s name and your body grows rigid as you bite your tongue. You did not have to turn your head to know who it was, for the ring clad fingers that intertwine over his lap tells you everything you need to know. 

Beomgyu quietly hums next to you and you feel your blood go cold. His presence is both invasive and unsettling, and his silence certainly wasn’t helping. How did he know what university you attended — more importantly, why was he here? Because Beomgyu never asked to meet unless he wanted something, and you had never seen him like this, outside and in broad daylight. It terrified you. 

Daring a small glance in his direction, your eyes fall on the dark attire he wore. He gazes ahead as he watches your classmates pass with an almost bored expression on his face. Try as you might but there was no telling if he was angry with you or not. Had he not gotten your message and was that why he was here? Or had he gotten it and that was why he was here? 

You anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek, keeping your attention intently fixed on your phone in your hands. The thick silence seemed to drag on forever and you wondered when Kayla might show up, she would be far from pleased when she saw who you were chit-chatting with. 

“Criminal justice?” Beomgyu finally asks, his voice matching the monotone expression on his face. You give a small, almost unnoticeable nod. 

Beomgyu scoffs next to you as he leans back against the hard wood of the bench. He rolls his thumbs over one another, not bothering to glance in your direction. “I’m sure you’ll make a great little detective, dollface.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or not, either way you decide against asking. Instead you fiddle with the elastic of your phone case as you await his next words. Your eyes met with a few whom you recognized from your lectures, most just gave awkward smiles, while others attention lingered on Beomgyu. It was safe to say that he stood out amongst the crowd. 

“You were busy yesterday.” He states and you suddenly remember your last conversation, the one which had ended on anything but a good note. — “School project..” You quietly murmur, choosing to leave Taehyun out of the equation. 

“Studies are important”, Beomgyu hums, and it seems as though he’s ready to drop the subject again. But of course you had to go and ruin it. “Did you… Get my message?” The question had been prodding at your mind since yesterday afternoon, and your voice is but a mere whisper as the words leave your lips. 

Beomgyu’s expression flashes with something you can’t quite place. It wasn’t fury but it highlighted his strong distaste for the topic. “Thought I told you not to acquaint yourself with Duri.” He sounds stern, and you felt like you were being scolded. Naturally your gaze drops to the ground and you swallow a gulp. “I know… But there was no other way for me to contact you.” 

“Because you shouldn’t.” He suddenly snaps, his tone teetering on annoyed. Suddenly your conversation begins to feel much like your last. The fear of him walking off on you resurfaces and it felt almost too much to bear. Perhaps that was why you had so abruptly turned in your seat to look at him fully. The action makes him tilt his head in your direction. “But that’s unfair.” 

“How am I supposed to just be available, what if something comes up? How would you know?” You were bordering on sounding whiny, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Beomgyu raises a brow as he looks at you. You can’t tell if he’s considering your words or holding back laughter, but soon he smirks. “If you’re not available then you’re not.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, when reality it’s far from it. 

You frown, “Then what about you?” — He shakes his head, “You worry ‘bout yourself, dollface.” 

Your lips part in objection, but before the protest can slip, you hinder yourself. A bitter realization washes over you as you understand what he’d meant. Worry about yourself… Who were you kidding, he wouldn’t have to wait long for another girl to come along if you happened to be unavailable. How naive of you to think that what the two of you had was anything but causal, he’d already proven you that time and time again. 

Now you just looked like an idiot for trying to compromise with him. You bite your lip as you avoid his gaze, wanting to be anywhere but in front of him right now. And it’s almost as if he’s reading your mind because in no less than ten seconds does he rise from his seat. — This was it, he was leaving you again, just like he had that night, and there was nothing you could do to stop him. 

You watch as he makes his way across the parking lot with his hands in his pocket. Once he makes it halfway across does he turn to look at you. The smirk stretching across his face made your heart leap. “You comin’ or not, dollface?”

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