#yall choices affects one of yall life choices

[ctrlhope]

Red Carnations (m)

synopsis: District 11-- your home. Your fields to run through. Your flowers. Your everything before your name was called on that fateful day. Before you were forced into the arena. Before you fought to save your life. Before you knew you were never going to see it again. Because even a victor is never truly free, are they? Even victors are forced to fall to the will of the capitol. And you-- you especially have no choice in the matter. Not when he has fallen for you. When you've become his petal in a much-too grey world. When you're already his everything. As long as you're with him, you're still in the games, aren't you?

p.jimin x f.reader (ft. implied m.yoongi x reader)

⚘ ࣪ ˖ ┊: wc: 9.5k

⚘ ࣪ ˖ ┊: genre: hunger games au, yandere, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort,

⚘ ࣪ ˖ ┊: content: capitol!jimin, victor!reader, yandere!jimin, obsession, kidnapping, toxic relationship, forced relationship, forced affection, manipulation, implied isolation, kisses mwah, reader has trauma, unreliable narrators, hunger games typical violence (though it's only at the beginning, fic begins after reader has won), jimin swears yall are soulmates frfr, future smut

⚘ ࣪ ˖ ┊: notes: HIII!!! surprise!!! this is my love letter to the hunger games lol <33 requests are coming soon I prommie!!! :33 they are in my drafts as we speak!! planning on this becoming a series too, so stay tuned if you guys are interested!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The world is spinning– everything is shaking. Air is passing through your lungs, the sound panting through your teeth, yet you’re not entirely sure anything is happening at all. Not cognizant of anything around you, of yourself as you struggle. As you fight. As you move to grasp a single straw from the man pinning you to the ground, baring his teeth in your face. 

You remember his hand, the way it reaches down almost as if in slow motion. Coming closer. Ready to grab your forehead. Ready to raise it and bash it into the ground below. Over and over again until you’re no more. Until the crops drop and weep to a shade of grey. To finally kill you. To put you out of this misery. 

Allow you to leave painfully, yet with all the grace a man starved from another district could allow. Gracefully. Right. 

You knew you fought your hardest until the end. Really, you do.

You hope your parents will be proud of you when you arrive home in those little metal boxes filled with ash. Hope they know how hard you fought to come back to them– to be with them once again. Hopefully your big sister will remember all the ways you tried to fight flowers in her hair when you were meant to be working. Hope your mom and dad remember the way you made sure to dye all your white clothes bright with colours of nature. 

Maybe if you were more of a singer you’d comfort yourself with a tune, but you don’t know many songs. Your brother was always more creative. He made sure you knew it. You– you were just a girl of the buds. Nothing more, nothing less. Only glad to be the last child your family had of reaping age. At least they wouldn’t incur anymore loss, would they? 

They’ve already watched you go mad. Nothing can be worse than watching their own daughter do what she needs to survive. Only a pity it had to be the last drawing before she was safe, too. 

No, the fate before you is one that had been told too many times before. You were never a victor, you knew that. You were meant to be another pitying girl swept away by the slaughter. And that’s okay. You’re okay. 

So, the question remains. How did that knife end up in his neck?  

Did you do it? You don’t remember doing it. You don’t remember the movement your arm had to have made, or the way it must’ve felt to sink the knife in. You don’t remember much of anything to be honest but oh– oh, he’s fallen off of you. You can move. You can move!! 

The shock remains present within you, though. You barely haggard a quick shuffle back, a hand clutching the skin where your heart lies. Your eyes are jittering, frantic. Looking. Trying to see, to make sense of what is happening around you. 

Is anyone else coming? Wait– no, that wouldn’t make sense. No, it wouldn’t. You’re the last two alive. Alive? Are you? Wait, hold on. What is happening. What is happening. What is happening. You were going to die– he was going to kill you. But you moved, or maybe, you guess, he let up? But did you, did you really just stab him? Did you just–

There’s blood on your hand. 

Bang.

That's the sound. That’s the sound! 

You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive. 

You won. 

Trumpets are playing, maybe the capitol anthem. You can’t seem to hear it, not really at least. 

No, all you hear is your lungs finally filling with air for the first time in a long time. For the first time since your name was called at the reaping. For the first time since you turned 12.

The next thing you hear is the breeze. Maybe the whole arena is taking a breath since these games started, too. 

You look around, try to take in your surroundings. Feel the way the world inhales and exhales along with you. Make yourself finally feel one again after the days that all seem to morph together.

Huh. 

Strange shapes crest over the horizon, the ground underneath your scraped limbs feels foreign. The scents that travel are a mystery and the skyline is nothing you’ve ever seen before. You don’t recognise anything. Almost as if you haven’t been here the last 6 days. As if nothing is real. 

But it is. You know it is. The pain shooting through every inch of your being tells you as much– tells you everything of the stories you can’t seem to remember. Right along with the loudspeakers, the voice of Octavia Flickerman reigning supreme. 

“Everyone, please give a warm welcome to the winner of the One-Hundred Eleventh Hunger Games! (Y/n) (L/n) of District 11!” 

You won!! Oh!!! You won!!!! 

Jimin practically squeals, jumps from his seat as he watches the screen. His arms flying into the air, brain spinning as adrenaline from the entire event courses through him. Finally settles into a gentle lull as he knows for certain that you’re alive. 

He knew you would!! Of course he did! He would never want you to think otherwise, no. He knew from the second he saw your face projected into his apartment on reaping day that you would. Was sure of it when he sat front and centre at the parade, waving to you and only you. 

Knew for certain (as if he wasn’t before, duh!) during the interviews when he first heard you speak. The cadence of your voice as you spoke into the microphone– your quipped yet nervous replies as the latest Flickerman worked you into a more relaxed state. 

Your shy smiles, the flattery of your dress. Just!! Everything!!

Oh– how enchanting you were!! He knew the rest of the capitol thought so, too. He made sure of it. He knew to make you the star because of course you would be coming back alive.

He knew you would win. 

You would be a fool not to with all the gifts he sent you, silly!! They may have cost anyone else a small fortune, but it was nothing for him, so you shouldn’t worry! He’d be sure to remind you of that the next time you meet. He knows you’re kind. He knows you’d feel some sort of guilt.

Oh!! But that doesn’t matter! He much rather thinks about how cute you were on your first day in the arena. How confused and bewildered you looked when his gifts started floating down from the sky. You ran from the center right away, of course you would, because you’re just so smart! But that meant you had nothing. 

He didn’t want you to have nothing!!

Blah blah blah, your mentor wanted to wait a bit. Save any money pooled your way. But with Jimin funding everything, why did that even matter? 

Soon, you were caked in more weapons than you knew what to do with. It was just too. Fucking. Cute. 

You should only be covered in things from him from now on. He was sure of it when you stood there in the arena, trying to figure out how to tote around a spear, bow, sword, knife, club, and a pack full of food, and he’s even more sure of it now. You used his knife to win the games. 

His gift he watched you take care of, cherish over the last 6 days. 

It’s almost like he was right in there with you! Supporting you, helping you! He couldn’t even sleep the last days, knowing you were in there, scared. 

My, he understands now why the skies saved you for him. You two truly are a match made for everyone to bear witness to you. 

And now!! Now that you won he knows your fates were set out for in the stars. 

He’s just so proud!! So– so proud of you!! 

Soon!! Soon he can be with you! He promises, okay? 

He knows Namjoon and Taehyung– the former more than the latter, will make him wait a bit before he actually can have you. There are duties you have to attend to, after all! Responsibilities! And he knows you wouldn’t want to neglect those. You’re very accountable like that, he knows it. 

But that’s okay! He can be patient. He’s waited his whole life for you– 23 years to be exact! He can wait a little more. Wait for the right moment. 

He knows you’ll be hurting from having to wait, too. It’s been so long since you last spoke! You really should have kept up better with your letters, you know!! You’re lucky he even remembered your name!!

He’ll have to scold you for that later– his cheeks puffed out in that way he just knows you’ll find adorable~

Ah!! But he’ll get to see you at the capitol parties!! Won’t that be fun? He’s sure of it! You two will get to dance and fall in love all over again. Taehyung will swoon and wonder when it’ll be his chance at love while Namjoon– well, Namjoon will probably be doting after his latest project or networking with politicians. But he’ll definitely want to hear all about everything from Jimin later!

Oh, he knows you’ll just look so sweet then. 

Uhg. But now he just has to wait. 

Disgusting it is, being without you for even a second longer. 

Disgusting it is, that the eyes of the rest of the world get to bear witness to your beauty, as well. 

Fucking peasants. 

Namjoon should just let him have you. This whole thing is just ridiculous. Why should he have to wait when you’re soulmates? Why should you be kept from him? All of it is moronic and Namjoon wouldn’t understand the meaning of such love if it slapped him across the face.

Annoying. 

Whatever. 

…

Oh!! He can rewatch your pre-games interviews again!! Or your reaping– ooo.. He does love watching your reaping.

Or maybe!! Maybe the chariot ride when you wave at him– because he’s sure for a moment then you two locked eyes. And he knows you felt the spark then, too. 

Or maybe he should rewatch his favourite scenes from the last 6 days, no matter how fresh in his mind they are. Watch as you become the perfect victor.

Or maybe he should go to the salon again! Get his pink hair fluffed up to perfection! Maybe the shops to get more new clothes for you! Oh, you probably wouldn’t know the renaissance is back in fashion, would you? Hmm, do you know what the renaissance is? What do they teach you in district schools? 

Well!! It doesn’t matter! He can ask you soon, and he’s willing to teach you anything, regardless!!

Hmm hmm hmm…

Oh! Oh! Oh! Or maybe he should go around and clean his home again– make sure the apartment is just perfect for you! He knows you’ll love it already, but you know, it never hurts to do a little extra for the one you love! 

Oh! He’s so excited to have you home! So, so excited! He just can’t wait! He can’t!

Solid memories, you realise, are hard to come by these days. There are things you think you know, of course. But nothing you can really wire down. Firm up into reality that isn’t mistied by some hazy expanse in the distance. 

You remember the capitol– there were parties in your honor, an exit interview. You think you can see yourself rewatching a few clips of the games but… to be honest, it all feels as if you’re looking back in third person. The ghost of yourself watching a shell without a face. Maybe reacting, maybe sitting there in silence. You’re not really sure. 

Though, you know all of it happened regardless of what your brain may distance from you. You know it did. But again, memories are… tricky. To say the least. 

The next solid one you have after your games, you’re still at the capitol. Still at the world filled with glimmer and gleam. You remember sitting in the shower, water pounding against your skin as the world all to suddenly feels whole again. For the first time in weeks it feels as if you’re wearing your own skin, seeing things through your own eyes. 

You remember your eyes casting down upon your hands. Droplets congregate on your palms as you have your first conscious thought since the night those games ended. Since the world became a mist no one would be able to see through. 

You’re going home. 

The realization is awe-inspiring. Stuttering, really. You know, then, that soon– in just a few days– you’ll be returning to District 11. You’ll be with your flowers and your bees. You’ll be able to walk through the tall grasses that fill your heart. Be able to see the sunset against the horizon and pretend as if you’re a bird dancing among those clouds. 

You’ll be able to see your family again. To feel their hugs and listen to their stories. You’ll be their daughter again. Not a box of ash on the mantle, not a tale to avoid especially on the most harrowing nights. You’ll be free from the games. Your family will be free from the games. 

You’ll see him.

You’ll see Yoongi.

He gave you a book on the old language of flowers— one of the last few standing after the history of before was erased from the public's eye. The original meaning of petals bound in worn leather, pages dried with colours of pressed flowers in their wake. In their entire glory for only you and him to see. To have together. Antiquities of a time you’ve never known, would never know save for the stories that were hushed in whispers of your attic walls between your voices alone. 

The new language of flowers was something you didn’t like as much, not after learning the true words they spoke. Highly published novels depicting a different tale then the ones they murmured to you out in the fields. A language that was a lot more angry, spiteful. Filled with resentment of a darker time that bled into even the most beautiful, innocent things. 

The book he gave you now held more meaning than ever before. While you don’t know much, you know that for certain. 

You’ll have that book in your hands again soon. Him in your grasp again— soon. 

Tears are in your eyes faster than you can blink them away. Sobs of a simple babe leaving your mouth for no one in the capitol to see. Just for yourself. Just for you, in your shower. Pathetic hands moving to try and wipe them away, yet there really is no hope. Tears will continue to flow, just as the sun will rise. 

You needed this more than you could ever know. More than anyone would ever know. 

Because then the thought is in your head again– about what you had to do to live. To survive. And for some strange reason, when you pull your hands away from your eyes, they look like they’re covered in red again. That boy in the arenas’ red. Your allies’ red. Strangers you didn’t know in the slightest’ red. The pasts’ red. 

Tears continue to fall, but for a different reason now. 

You’re out of your body again, and you think you might just stay there for a while. Until all of it just stops. 

Fuck whatever the hell Namjoon says, actually. Jimin doesn’t give a shit anymore. Jimin doesn’t care about waiting for the “right time” or when you’re more “susceptible” (as if you even need to be!). You need to come home now. You have to. 

He can’t just– he can’t just watch you destroy yourself like this in isolation! Especially when you have a warm, loving home to come home to. When he can support you. 

Fuck that. He can’t watch this any longer. 

This is all his fault, for going out earlier that day. Arriving home later than normal– missing your dinner together entirely. Oh, you’re probably so lonely without knowing he’s watching through the security cameras. Oh-so lonely. 

That’s why you’re crying in the bathroom, that’s why you’re hurting inside. Because you’re so alone. Because you have no one when you need him. 

You haven’t cried this entire time! There’s no other explanation as to why you’d be breaking down now! On the one day he didn’t have time to spend watching the cameras every waking second! 

He always wakes up with you, falls asleep with you. Eats with you, showers with you. Does everything with you! Fuck! How could he be so stupid! How could he be so neglectful! He’s an awful boyfriend! Awful! Awful! Awful! 

He can’t just watch you like this anymore. He doesn’t care if you’re more distressed, distraught– whatever. He’ll deal with that then. But you’re crying and it hurts him just as harshly as it does you. 

He doesn’t even realise the tears that well in his own eyes. The stinging pain of his nails digging into his palm.

Fuck Namjoon. This is his fault! It is! He’s the one that kept you from him! He’s the one that’s been insisting on your isolation until the “right time”-- whatever the hell that is! 

This is all his fault! 

You’re so scared. So lonely. So heartbroken.

He’s going to save you. To help you. To bring you home. 

Namjoon and Taehyung– they’ll understand, right..? He’s sure they will. They would do the same thing for their soulmates. He knows they would. Taehyung would do it in a second for his fletchling that got away! He could never be mad at Jimin! Never ever! 

And Namjoon, Jimin knows that he was just doing what he thought was best– trying to help. But Jimin knows best when it comes to you. 

He knows it's time for you to come home, even if it is a little more difficult. He can take it, he knows he can. 

Jimin sniffles, wiping the underside of his nose as he mops up his lousy expression. Reminding himself that all of this is okay– at least it will be soon. When you’re with him. When you’re in his arms. Safe from the rest of the world. 

Safe because of him.

The scent of sweet linen fills your nostrils to the very brim. Gentle fabrics twist in your palms, head leavered to the side, shoving your face even deeper into the too-soft sheets. 

It smells almost like home. Like the fresh flowers you’d pick every morning to put on the table– the lilac, sweet pea, and babies breath mixture you made most often for the neighbours. 

Something… Something is off. Something… artificial. But you choose to ignore that fact for the simple instance of staying sane. For the ability to lull your mind into a simpler place– a simpler time. A place before the games. A place so wonderful you don’t even allow yourself to dream of it anymore. Home. 

Maybe that was your first mistake, thinking you might return to that place for even a moment. 

Maybe it was a lot of things. It could have been imagining you just missed the entire train ride home– that you didn’t fall asleep in your stupid capitol apartment last night. Maybe it was thinking your mom’s bed could even afford such soft cottons to warm the lonely nights. Maybe it was letting your guard down for even a second, missing the footsteps that travel through the door. 

Maybe it was missing a whole slew of other signs. 

You’re too tired to know. Too tired to care. 

Well, that is until a sing-song pitch feels like it breaks the sound barrier. Feels like it shatters your disillusioned peaceful world into a disarray of shards you can’t glue back together. Sends you tumbling from the bed, startling you. Making you remember exactly how you felt in those games all over again.

“Petal~ Are you awake yet, my love? Oh my–” He seems just as shaken as you as he watches you bolt from the bed. Startling back a few steps as you roll to the floor assuming a crouched, almost predatory position. Your hair messy, lips puffy from sleep. Eyes wide, almost unnerving as you try to take him in. 

“Ah~” He resumes his original state, the one he had before you spooked him. One more relaxed– more carefree than you would ever be able to hold. A tray of food in his grip, filled to the brim with foods that used to be your favourites. 

Food has tasted dull for awhile now. 

“My, I must’ve scared you. I’m sorry, little petal.” He hums quietly, ignoring your flighty state instead focusing his path to the end of the bed– a bed you don’t recognise in the slightest. You’re not in any home that you’ve ever known. “I know, it must be pretty startling, hmm? I wanted to wake up in bed with you, but I didn’t think that would be the best idea.” 

He lends a giggle to himself, though you can’t understand the humour in his words. Not when you’re reeling. Eyes darting around, taking in the scenery around you. The grandiose bedroom piled high with the most comfort the capitol can offer. A large bed in the center of the room– the bed you were just in. A large window taking space of the entire wall, giving view of the city down below.

How did you get here? What is going on? Who the actual fuck is this guy? How does he know you?

Well, the last question is easy enough to answer. How does anyone know you? The games of course. Your new victor status lends the title of celebrity. 

You miss the days you were no one now more than ever. You need to get out. 

Your eyes dart between his figure, now perched on the end of the bed next to the tray of food and the door. Could you make it past him? Beat him in a race? Sure, he looks taller than you. But from your position on the floor– practically in a runners start already, you’re sure you could beat anyone in the capitol who’s never had to work a day in their life. 

What would you do after you make it out that door? You’re not sure. But you need to put more distance between yourself and this– this psychopath.

“I wouldn’t recommend that if I were you, love.” His voice is light, airy. Your mother would say he sounds like a songbird, however, you know that isn’t true. Only the capitol-created mutts would observe you as he is now. Close, pointnet. “The doorway has a sensor. I go through it, I’m fine. You— bzzt!!” 

He grabs his collar, shaking a little to give off the appearance of being electrocuted, giving a light laugh at the end to show humour. What part of this is meant to be fucking funny?! You– you!! He kidnapped you!! What part of that is fucking funny!! 

You feel heat in your face, air exhaling a notch faster than before as anger rises higher in your being. Who the fuck does he think he is?! You would be a fool not to go for it anyway. An idiot to just trust this man's words without a second thought. 

“Not enough to kill you but–” You bolt for the doorway, running as fast and as hard as you can. Though, it doesn’t last long. The man did not lie, and you are frozen in place the second an inch of your frame has made it through the passage. A current shooting through your being, freezing you in place. Causing you to crumple to the floor without even a second's notice. 

The pain is burning, though not as strong as you expected such a force to be. You don’t understand capitol technology, and you don’t want to. You don’t want to know how it could hurt so bad yet not hurt at all at the same time. How it could completely immobilise you yet feel as though it didn’t do any real damage. 

A simple shock to your system, as he presumed this whole thing would be. 

He tuts out a soft sigh as he watches you fall, standing from his place on the bed and allowing his legs to carry him to your form. “I told you petal, I wouldn’t recommend trying. It’s okay though– I expected this.” 

He hums, easily scooping your body into his arms. And as much as you want to run, to push him away, to strangle him– you can’t move a muscle. Limp in his arms, useless to him moving you into bed, tucking you back under the sheets. All save for your face, and maybe your voice. Though, you haven’t tried to use that yet. 

“Oh– don’t look at me like that!” He giggles, placing your body upright in bed. Back against the headboard, blankets pulled to your hips. You think you hate the smell of them now more than anything else. “You’ll be able to move again soon, I promise. 10-15 minutes max? I’m not sure the details– Joon set it up for me. I didn’t want to!”

He looks at you seriously now, almost a complete change in his demeanour. His hands moving to clench your unmoving ones, his eyes staring straight into your own still set in a glare. “I knew you would love me right away, petal. I promise. I didn’t think you would run. But Joon said it would be better to be safe than sorry, you know? And I didn’t want you to get hurt with all the shock this change would be! You understand, right?”

You don’t know what the fuck a Joon is or the bullshit the man in front of you is spewing. You don’t even know why he’s spitting it!! You don’t even know him!! You’ve never seen him before in your life!!  A thousand words well up in your throat at once, yet you’re not sure which ones want to leave first. Hatred, as well as that puppy-dog look you already have come to despise forces your hand. You want him off of you– away from you. To give you a moment to think and to figure out all of his nonsense!! 

“Fuck you.” Is all you can manage between your teeth, though you want to will so much more. Want to let loose every stupid, horrible thing you’ve thought since you first arrived in the capitol. The words you wanted to say during all of your interviews– the words that wouldn’t gain you sponsors or support. 

Maybe you should have said them back then, maybe then you wouldn’t be in this position now. 

Oh, you hate that he only smiles at your words. Moves, instead, to grab the tray of food abandoned at the edge of the bed. “They’ll be plenty of time for that later, petal.” 

You know it’s meant to be a tease– the way he says it puts no real meaning behind his words. But their simple utterance leaves you wanting to spasm. To will your body to move– to make him not threaten you like that again. To yell, to scream, to throw fists his way. To throw him out that giant window. The one that taunts you of your freedom.

“No! No–! There won’t be!” You almost shout, attempting to force your body to move. To twist any part of it. To gain back any level of control. Slap that giggle that spills from his lips. “Who the– Who the fuck are you?!” 

Your voice is practically a growl, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. In fact he's– he’s jovial? His shoulders shake with amusement while his eyes crest with joy. And you, you hate every second of it.

“Ah~ There’s the petal I know!” He hums, cutting away at the pancakes below. Plucking a few pieces onto a fork, bringing it closer to your lips, “Though, if I’m being honest, I’m a little hurt you don’t remember me, my love! We’ve had so much fun together!!” 

His expression softens now, almost appearing wounded. Like you had stabbed him somewhere you couldn’t even begin to explain. It only enrages you further, to be honest. Though, nothing to do about that now. You’ve already boiled over. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?! I don’t know you!! We’ve never–” He takes that moment to shove the fluffy bread between your lips, knowing otherwise he would not have the chance. He takes his other hand, placing it on your lower jaw before you have the chance to spit it out. You hate how he seems to know your actions before you know them yourself. You hate everything about him. 

“You need to eat.” His tone is harsh again. It switches so easily– everything about him does, honestly. It confuses you, but there isn’t much time to spend on that thought at the moment, is there? Not with a psycho in the room. Not with everything happening. 

You still don’t follow his direction. Instead just hold it between your lips, not chewing. It gives you some sense of control you otherwise lacked in every other way. Gives you an ounce of strength. 

“Chew. Or else you’ll be on a liquid diet. Neither of us want that.” The way he looks at you now sends a chill down your spine. Eyes half lidded, almost in a glare. Jaw set harshly in place, puffy lips pulled in slightly.

You feel like you’re in the arena again. 

Maybe you never left.

“Eat. And I’ll answer your questions.” Begrudgingly, you oblige. Though it doesn’t come without some force, humiliation burns through as you actually listen to what he tells you. As you follow his command. 

You want to die, maybe. 

Or that could just be the shame that runs through your veins. 

You’ve never been a strong person, you don’t think. And the thought feels even more apparent now. Your ally in the games– she would’ve never done what he said. You know that. She was strong. She always listened to her own conscience above all else. She would’ve never given in over a threat and a promise, while you, at least on the inside, feel as if that’s all it ever takes. 

A threat and a promise. 

You hate it. Even more so when his personality does a complete 180 once again. When he starts praising you. When he hops up next to you on the bed and nestles you into his side. Especially when he plants a kiss on the top of your head, telling you how good you are. How he just knew you wanted to please him and that there's no reason to pretend. 

“See, baby? I just knew you could do it. I knew our little rough patch wouldn’t last long, would it? See, you’re already so good for me. Just the perfect little thing like I knew you would be, yeah? Wow~” His lips against your head feel like the first soft thing you’ve felt in the last month. You hate it. “What a perfect little Victor for me baby, you know that? C’mon! Let's eat up lots! I hate how much weight you’ve been losing since you got here from the districts. It’s so sad.” 

You want to sob, actually. Burning humiliation feels unbridled in your core. You hate that you can’t push him away. That you can’t get away. Why does such a simple action of chewing food feel like so much more? Why does everything feel like so much more?

You want to go home. You want to be among your flowers and your best friend. 

The fork is in front of your mouth again. 

This time, you take it without a fight. Already knowing it will be going in your mouth, regardless. Especially in this new, feeble position. His arm around your shoulder, your legs soon tugged onto his lap the same. 

“Who are you.” You ask again, hatred in your tone. Though he ignores it completely, instead favouring to focus on the way you took his offering without much physical fight. He could tell the mental one was burdensome, though there will be time to deal with that later. 

He smiles at you, though you choose to focus on a spot through the window in the far distance. Hoping against all hope it is the glimmer of the sun rather than a hologram pasted on the glass.

“Jimin. My name is Jimin. Remember it this time, okay petal?” He says softly, as though it was just for you to hear. 

You wish it wasn’t. 

You wish it was at some sort of public hanging for the world to hear for kidnapping the Capitol’s much favoured victor. You wish he was being hung while you were in the arms of your best friend instead, far away from the entire mess. Far away from everything.

Why hasn’t your mind locked you away again? Made you incapacitated– a drop among the flowing river? Why did it have to make you so aware, now, when it was all you had ever hoped for before? Why couldn’t it lock away these memories like it did for those in the games?

The answer is obvious. 

You’re still in them. Maybe not physically, but mentally, now more than ever, you’re in those games. Except now, the only enemy is one and if you make it out, there would be no trumpets signalling your victory.

There is no victory in these games, is there?

“Hmm, you’ve had a hard morning, haven’t you?” He’s still being soft. Still slowly feeding you bites of food you want nothing to do with while his other hand gently traces circles on your ankle. At least you’re still wearing the clothes you fell asleep in. You have that to be thankful for. “I’m sorry for scaring you so badly, I hoped the scents would calm you down but I guess I was wrong.” 

You finally spare a glance his way, noticing his lips in a pout. He has nothing to be sad for, you know it to be true. So why is he acting like the burden of the world is on his shoulders? You have not a clue, nor a care. Though you keep yourself quiet all the same, knowing any words you say might set him off– especially the unkind ones you think.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon.” He smiles again, eyes cresting into half circles. His lips finding your hair once again, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. It makes you want to gag– want to cry in the way it mimics your mothers. But there's nothing you can do. Absolutely nothing for at least another 3 minutes. But where will you go– what will you do once that time does pass? You need to be smart about this. 

You can’t run. You can’t leave this room without being paralyzed. You could grab a fork, you could stab–

Your eyes automatically trail down to your hands, as if they expect the red to still be there. As if you didn’t scrub it away countless times, a new red in its place. Raw and irritated, painful. 

…

What will you do when the time passes?

The urge to scratch at your hands once again is insurmountable. An itch pulling behind your eyes as a meager way to force away the visions of that career in your face. Of his expression as blood dribbled from the side of his lips, eyes becoming hollow against the sandy ground.

You force your eyelids closed. Pressing them together. Willing away the picture of at least 12 other tributes– the slaughters you witnessed first hand. The colour draining from their skin from where you hid. The emptiness where there once held life. 

You watched them smiling in training. You ate with a few. They were real people with real lives and now they are dead and you’re alive. 

You want it to go away. You want it all to go away. 

…

You’re not sure what you can do once the time passes. The wails in your ears at the mere thought of stabbing him are evidence of that enough. 

You need more time to think. 

“Why?” The question hangs heavy in their air, almost so quietly you’re not sure it left your own lips. You don’t remember it leaving them, surely. Nevertheless, willing them to move– but the question found its way out on its own. 

You don’t know if you want an answer, but you can’t force it back in. 

“Why?” Jimin, your captor, hums. His thumb tapping gently against your ankle bone in a way that you assume is meant to soothe. He takes a moment– thinking, contemplating, before a smile so bright it could be the sun itself takes over his expression. One filled with care, with such soft admiration you’ve only ever seen on one person before. 

“Because I love you, of course. You love me too. You promised.”

The days– no, weeks, that follow are, disappointingly, similar to your first. An almost-routine forming between you and Jimin. Horrible, unnerving Jimin. Wake up every morning all-too aware, force yourself from his too-tight grip he’s managed to pull you into while you slept. Check the exits to see if they’re still locked or shocked. Eat breakfast with Jimin, deal with his mood-swings and tantrums. 

Eventually he leaves for work– not before he clings to you again, whining about how he doesn’t want to go. You lash out, yell at him to stop touching you– you hate when he touches you– after which he either cries or gets mad. Whimpers about how he doesn’t understand why you’re being so mean. Why you hate him. 

A little kid being refused their favourite toy, maybe. The same way your little brother might’ve done the same. 

He’s got some sort of twisted reality, that's all you know. Has convinced himself you’ve loved each other for years, that you two are meant to be some sort of fairytale. That it’s fate you were drawn that day– something about letters. You have no clue how he’s come to that conclusion, nor find yourself wanting to delve into it. All you do know is that it’s tiring, too tiring. 

To be honest, when he cries like that in the mornings, it almost makes you feel bad. Almost, because you’re not stupid. You know what’s real. You know that before he took you, you had never seen him in your life. You made no promises like he swears, you never showed him any sort of inclination otherwise.

On the other hand, it's clear he’s sick in the head. Clear that something in the capitol deluded him into believing whatever… this is. Maybe he’s never known what actual love is– you doubt the capitol knows anything about that. Maybe it was his friends you’ve been forced to hear about, maybe it’s just, everything else. 

Either way, you wouldn’t know. He doesn’t talk much about himself– nor his family. He doesn’t talk about visiting them or introducing them to you the same way he does his best friends.Two people you’ve never met yet already hate. An already-assumed air to the presidency and the head gamemaker– Taehyung, Namjoon. 

You really did get lucky with your captor, huh? Well, you knew he had to be in high places for the wealth he assumes. The wealth he practically forced on you in the arena. 

Oh, the realization he had been the one to dump food and weapons on you was a sobering one indeed. 

You often wonder where it comes from. What he had to do to become so rich when back home, all your family had to their name was a small two bedroom cottage in the far-reaches of town. When your father would become so skinny during the winter months that you found yourself sleeping next to his bed, afraid he might not wake up in the morning. 

It had been worse when your parents were little, or so you were told. The capitol used to be worse– more vicious. Something about an almost uprising. An agreement made when a mockingjay flew. You’re not sure, it sounded like some sort of strange symbolism when your teacher spoke the words. And back then, when you were young, you didn’t care about the symbolism of birds. Flowers were much more your heart. 

What did the capitol kids learn in school? Did they have it? Or were they already assumed geniuses. A silver spoon born into the mouths of the wealthy, their paths laid out by birthright alone. Never having to worry, never having to struggle. Jimin is most definitely the same, regardless. 

Spite is an emotion often had, along with too many others. 

You have too much time to think here. Too much time to reflect on your inability to act. Why you’re cursed with visions whenever you so much as have a passing thought about killing Jimin to get away. 

Though, maybe it’s a blessing, in a way. What would you do if you did manage such a feat? Run with his friends tailing behind you? Find some way out of the capitol? Risk the lives of everyone you love by somehow returning home with nothing to your name? How would you even leave the apartment? Sure, he normally turns the bedroom shocks off during the day so you can roam, but you know the same device stands at the front door. 

The windows are too tall to leap from, no fire escapes in sight. You would be stupid to not assume he already planned for you to try and kill him. Maybe if he dies the entire apartment explodes. Maybe he’s got some sort of medical implant that could patch all wounds instantly. You have no clue what kind of technology the capitol holds, much less one of its most important citizens. 

What you can assume? He dies, you die with him.

You’re not sure if you could kill him anyway. 

So there you are left, planning. Forced to listen to him. His day, his life. His friends. You. The people he deems actually important to his life, you presume. 

Then there are his plans– what he wants to do with you that day, dates he hopes to take you on after you finally accept him. Proposals. Marriage. All things that twist your stomach– make it ache. 

Of course, he asks questions, too. Makes it appear as though he actually wants to get to know you better. What a joke. This whole thing feels like one. Like some type of dream you won't be able to escape no matter how hard you thrash under the covers. 

Most of the time, you find it easier not to answer. If you say nothing, he can’t use it against you. Can’t turn it into a tantrum from a wrong answer or stare at you with those warm-brown eyes while you open your soul. Can’t take a mile when you only bare him an inch. 

You never can tell what he is thinking. 

What you do know? He looks so pathetic when he cries during those times you decide to let hate fill your heart. When the band inside finally snaps and you just can’t take anymore of this. The demon clawing out from your abdomen, spewing vile from your lips before you can even think of what you’re truly saying. 

Oh, how clings to your legs, looks up at you with tears streaming down his face. His perfectly styled pink hair a wreck, his puffy cheeks flushed red. Veins in his neck straining. Begging, pleading for you to just love him. For you to come to him like he does you, to crave him like he does you. For you to just say you didn’t mean it. To please, please just not hate him. He just can’t take it. You’re soulmates. You’re meant to be. You can’t hate him, you can’t.

Maybe sometimes you feel a small ounce of sympathy when he gets like that, knowing that you caused it. Humanity thriving within you when, at this point, in most it would be squandered away. 

You feel too much lately, to be honest. 

Though, that little bit of pity, small and waning, is wiped away all the same when he forces you to sit in bed with him at night. Most nights he’s able to hold you due to the same zap you receive every time you try to run out that door– still believing it would be stupid to not try. Others, it's because you’re simply too tired to fight him. Because it’s easier not to.  

Either way, the result of your compliance forced or not is the same. Your frame tucked into his side, legs across his lap. His arm pulling you close, tucking the top of your head into his neck. All the while he plays reruns of your games, your interviews, your reaping. 

He smiles watching them, eyes casting a fond glow on the projection of your nightmare. The things you wish you didn’t have to do. 

You hate that you can see the fondness in his expression, especially. Makes his words seem even more true, that he wholeheartedly believes them. Whenever you appear on screen, his expression lights. His lips quirking whenever he urges you to watch– that his favourite part is coming. 

He seems to have a lot of favourite parts. 

At least it fills in a lot of gaps in your memory– maybe that’s one good that comes of it. Or maybe it’s another negative. Something that should be forgotten for your own sanity. That’s what your brain thought at least but now… You’re not really sure anymore, to be honest. It’s hard to keep things straight when you’re stuck in this apartment. When everything else your head is doing to protect you is oh-so-tiring. 

You remember him showing you your reaping a month after arriving at his apartment– one of the projections you seem to have forgotten completely. A day entirely forgotten returned to you all-too quick. A shot straight to the heart. 

You were standing there in line, waiting to have your face and fingerprints scanned for attendance. Hair a little wild, dress bustling in the wind. You watched as you walked forward, as they took you into the system. Corralled you into the area reserved for the oldest age group. 

You feel like you look so young then, or at least felt a million years younger than you do now. So happy, so carefree. Waiting for the whole drawing to just be over so you could be free of it. Finally free of it. Of everything. 

Fuck, your final reaping, too. How pathetic.

“You looked so pretty for me then, petal. That’s when I recognised your name.” Jimin whispered to you, nuzzling his face in your hair. Yet you paid little mind– eyes glued to the screen as the scenes shifted, bringing you directly to the drawing.

Hearing your name called, your face displayed on the screen was entirely mind-altering, to say the least. The girl on the screen is no longer you– maybe a body double, maybe a secret twin. It doesn’t matter which, because that girl, no. She doesn’t feel like you in the slightest. You don’t remember any of it happening at all. 

Back then, you remember how your legs stumbled as they carried you. How they shook with terror. The world was ending, you were sure of it. You knew it was. But the girl on screen is confident. She’s bold. She bares an expression of neutrality– posture held high, chin up against the winds with a red carnation tucked behind her ear. 

He tucked that flower behind your ear that morning, you know that for sure. It was tradition that he would. Petals tucked in your tresses, the promise of researching their meaning when you two departed. 

Maybe you should have done so before the reaping that day– maybe that was another mistake. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter now. Now you’re tucked in the arm of a deluded capitol boy who bought you from the president, being forced to watch the screen as it changes to something you were never meant to witness. 

The camera cuts to a scene in the crowd. A group of 6 standing together, holding each other. Mother, Father, Sister, Brother-in-Law, Brother, Sister-in-Law-to-be all joined together to watch their last family members very last reaping. 

Your heart shatters as you hear the syllables of your name called once again. 

The shock, the horror. The terror. The tears. The realization that you were going into the games. You watched from your seat in the capitol as your mother crumpled in on herself– as your brother fell right alongside her. Trying to hold her, trying to console her while your father just stood in utter shock. Frozen in place from his daughter being taken from him. 

He always did say your family was too lucky, to prepare for the worst. When you were young, it was a joke. But on that day it wasn’t, no. It was every nightmare a reality. 

Your family’s realization they would never see you run amongst the fields again. Hope already mist in the wind. That’s what it was.

Then, then the weight of ten-thousand bodies feels as though it has fallen onto your shoulders.

The camera cut to him. Your best friend. Your Yoongi. The man who tucked the flower in your hair, who made you promise to come back to him. The man who said he would do anything for you facing the one thing he couldn’t do anything against.

You don’t even know how the cameramen knew to film him in that moment, but you wish they didn’t. You wish against all else that you would’ve never had to see his face like that. 

This is the worst thing you could have seen. That Jimin is making you see. Worse than making you rewatch your games with that sickening smile on his face. Worse than making you relive the other lives you had to take in that arena with the weapons Jimin provided through sponsorship. Worse than finding out he had been privy to all the cameras in your capitol apartment.

No, seeing Yoongi again was worse than anything else. Especially knowing you would never see him again. 

At least during the games you knew you had a chance. Now, it feels like you have none. 

He’s gone.

You can’t stop the tears, from forcing your gaze away from the screen and hiding your face in Jimin’s neck. From breaking down against him– your captor, yet at the same time your only source of comfort. 

Maybe that's what he wanted. Maybe that was the point of all of this. You don’t know anything other than the pounding of your head and the burn of your lungs as it tries to pull in air. The static that runs through the wires of your brain as it shuts down, succumbing to the pain. The hurt of just– everything.

“Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay. It’s okay~” He tries to calm you, yet it does nothing. Your wails only grow louder. Nails scratching, grabbing for anything in their reach. Finding home in his loose linen shirt. 

If you were any more sane, maybe you would know he was panicked in that moment too. Scrambling with what to do, how to console you. Eyes darting as he manages your form, tries to discern what to do or say. “That’s enough for today, I think…” 

He turns off the tv, you know that. You thank the skies for it. You don’t think you could listen to your supposedly private goodbyes with your family and Yoongi at that moment. You think that might just break you entirely.  

The actions that follow are foreign. Too consumed in your grief, you’re not sure how you wound up on his lap. How your body found itself clinging to him entirely. You’re sure of the sound of his voice, though. The way it gently shushes your cries with a smooth hum. Trying to comfort, to soothe while he strokes the top of your head with one hand. The other rubbing circles into your hip as you cry. 

The terrible part? You let him.

You let him mumble into your hair. You let him be your support when he was the very thing keeping you away from them. The very being holding you hostage when you should be in the victory village with them. When you should be with Yoongi. 

It’s too bad, but you really can’t help it. Honestly. Everything inside of you that you’ve been holding onto for so very long is flushing from your system all at once. Waves of emotion from the reaping, the games, the kidnapping have overflowed, and without something solid, you might have drowned. May have been washed away in a haze of memories you’re unable to come back from.

Can you really be blamed for letting the fire of hatred be quelled for only a night when a tsunami is about to pull you under? 

“It’s okay petal, let it out. You needed all of this, hmm? I’m so sorry for upsetting you, baby. I had no clue it would, I swear. I’ll never do something like that again, okay? I don’t want you to hate me, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know your heart was still all the way back there, okay?” 

During the entire time you’ve been in the capitol, not a sole has offered you a single ounce of comfort. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to just let him. To let him comfort you. To let him take care of you. No matter how humiliating or awful it will feel tomorrow, you’re too tired to care. 

You’re so tired of fighting. Why do you have to keep fighting? Why you? 

“Worked so hard on being so strong. I’m proud of you. I’ve got you now, petal.” He whispered into your hair so softly. As if he could break you, as if he ever even conserved doing such a thing. 

Maybe he could feel it then– the way you had given up. Even if it was just for the hour. Maybe he knew to use it to his advantage. That’s what you would have done in the arena. Or maybe he did actually care. Did actually want to be there. Wasn’t planning on using your vulnerability for his own gain.

You would never really know, would you? 

You’re just so tired. And the way he gently pulls your face from his neck, tucks your face into his palm sure makes it feel like he cares. You don’t know. You don’t want to care. You just want to be free from thinking for a little while. 

Maybe that’s why you don’t look away when his eyes search to find your own. To make a connection– to try and convey that he can be solid for you, despite how he acts most of the time. Maybe it’s the tears that fall onto his cheeks, fooling you into believing his pain is your own. Your head feels so screwy anyway– unable or unwilling to function any longer than it has to. 

Maybe that's why you don’t pull away when he glances towards your lips. When his tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink pair. When he leans closer, his lips pressing against your own in a way that is utterly consuming, yet so soft at the same time. Dual worlds colliding together. The very definition of who Jimin seems to be. 

The kiss is a short, gentle thing. Something meant to soothe, to help you relax more than anything else. One that you neither respond to, nor push away from. But the fact it happens remains. The fact you didn’t hate it remains a thing to ponder on another day. 

His thumbs move up to gently swipe at your cheeks, collecting the last of your tears on his fingertips. Your head choosing to ignore the way he pops the digits in his mouth, tasting the salty tang. 

You're too tired– too confused right now, to care anyway. 

“Let's go to bed now, okay? You must be tired, baby.” He lifts you, placing you on your side of his massive bed. Tucking your frame in, moving your hair to the side before placing a gentle kiss on your temple. 

That night, he doesn’t force you to cuddle him. He doesn’t touch you at all, something you’re grateful for. But it’s clear something– maybe everything has changed. The repercussions, unclear. 

Yet the next morning, when you’re shocked awake by a gentle kiss to the lips and the floppy, too-happy face of Jimin in the morning, the memories of the night prior return. Then and there, for the first time, you’re sure you’ve made a mistake. 

⋆𐙚 part ii -> coming soon to a theatre near you <33 and as always, feel free to ask hunger games!jimin anything you want along with all my other guys!! MWAH!! ily and i hope you enjoyed <33

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2025 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[yeostinys]

Cry For Me (Sequel)

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Angst, light fluff

Notes: Dacryphilia (y/n is a major cry baby), mentions of cheating (don’t do it yall, this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (please wrap it up, don’t do this irl), oral sex (f & m receiving), masturbation, explicit language.

Word Count: 15k

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 1 | Pt. 3 (surpriseeeeee)

———————————————————————

You awoke to the bright morning sun streaming through the curtains of an unfamiliar room, its warmth illuminating the space in soft golden hues. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, and when they did, you noticed the serene figure beside you—Hongjoong, peacefully asleep, his dark hair tousled and his lips slightly parted. His arms draped possessively over your waist, anchoring you to the bed. A rush of memories from the night before flooded your mind, igniting sensations that sent a thrill down your spine: the electric brush of his fingers against your skin, the roughness of his lips capturing yours, and the way he had filled you so perfectly.

Turning your gaze, you caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.

7:30 AM.

Your work shift starts soon. However, your boss who should be waiting for you in the office… is next to you, in his bed.

You stared up at the ceiling, lost in contemplation. Thoughts spiraled in your mind, revisiting the recent choices that had brought you to this moment. Your relationship with Siwoo had been stagnant, filled with a heaviness that had begun to suffocate you. You couldn’t ignore the truth any longer: you wanted to explore whatever was blossoming between you and Hongjoong. But the boundaries of professionalism loomed large, a constant reminder of the risks you were about to take.

After sending that weighty text message to Siwoo last night—declaring your choice to end things—you had shut your phone off, unwilling to hear his response. Besides, you were too occupied being entangled with Hongjoong on his massive plush bed. Now, as you lay there, a part of you hesitated, fearing the truth that awaited in those unread messages.

With a quiet sigh, you turned your gaze back to Hongjoong, letting your thoughts drift to the perfect features of his face. Your heart tightened at the memory of his confession, the vulnerability he had shown you last night. You couldn't deny the growing affection blossoming within you. Deep down, you felt certain that Hongjoong truly cared for you, and the thought sent warmth coursing through your veins. You wanted to care for him, too.

You tried to carefully move yourself from his embrace. But just as you began to shift, his hand shot out, gripping your arm gently yet firmly. You gasped, surprised by his sudden awareness.

“Where are you going?” His morning voice was raspy. He cracked open one eye, peering at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Oh—back to my place…” you stammered, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. “I have work in an hour…”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened as he tugged you closer, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Hm, you just slept with your boss, and you’re still trying to be on time. How cute,” he teased, the glint in his eye making your heart race even faster.

Your embarrassment mingled with a rush of excitement, a chaotic blend of fear and exhilaration flooding your senses.

“I—It’s just… you have an important meeting today to finalize a project… sir…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Hongjoong let out a heavy sigh, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and understanding. He shifted, his body hovering over yours, his presence both comforting and overwhelming.

“Y/N, I know last night was unexpected, but please don’t act like nothing happened,” he said softly, his gaze searching your face for any sign of clarity.

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, unsure how to respond. Nodding seemed like the safest option, even as your heart thudded painfully in your chest. Confusion tangled with a yearning to voice your concerns, but the words eluded you.

“Let’s go. Let me get ready, and then I’ll take you to your house. We can head to work together,” Hongjoong suggested, shifting away and rising from the bed. The sight of him slipping on a pair of boxers stirred a mix of emotions inside you—desire, worry, uncertainty.

“Hongjoong… won’t it look suspicious if we arrive at work together?” You pulled the sheets around your waist, as you sat up. The question lingered in the air, a nagging worry that tugged at your thoughts.

He turned around to face you. His hands resting on his hips as he looks at your figure.

“Is that really what you’re worried about?” he asked, his voice a blend of amusement and sincerity. He walks back to you and sits on the mattress.

“You’re my secretary, Y/N,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “If you’re worried, we can say we had an early meeting.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss that sent a wave of warmth surging through you, deepening the conflict brewing within.

“You don’t have to worry about what anyone says. If anyone tries to talk about us, or if they say anything about you, I’ll handle it. I can just fire them,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your cheek, each word a promise that lingered in the air.

“Hongjoong, that’s not…” The weight of reality pressed down on you, and suddenly, emotions surged like a tidal wave, overwhelming and intense. Tears spilled down your cheeks, their warmth shocking you as they traced paths down your skin.

“Hey…” His voice softened, a mix of surprise and concern lacing his words. “Baby. Talk to me. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He cradled your cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that fell.

“I want to be with you, Hongjoong… I just feel like I’ve crossed a line, like I’ve broken our professionalism,” you confessed, your voice trembling, each word laced with the weight of your turmoil.

“Y/N, I was the one who broke those boundaries,” he replied, lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. “I took that risk and chose to pursue you.” His gaze bore into yours, earnest and unwavering.

“I think I may have acted too hastily last night,” you softly say, the admission tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “I need time.”

“Time for what, baby?” Hongjoong’s voice dropped to a whisper, concern etched across his features as his heart clenched at your words.

“To fix my situation… Siwoo will probably want an explanation after I left him over text…” you murmured, feeling the weight of your choices settle heavily upon you. Hongjoong’s expression shifted, determination mixed with something deeper as he absorbed your words.

“Y/N, he doesn’t need an explanation—” Hongjoong began, but he stopped himself, recognizing the urgency in your eyes. He dropped his hands from your face, respecting your need for space.

“Hongjoong… I know he doesn’t. But I just can’t handle it that way. I want to do this right—for my own sake,” you said, struggling to project confidence even as your heart trembled.

“I want to be with you, Hongjoong. Just let me figure this out first. When I’m ready, I promise I’ll come to you… please?” The sincerity in your plea hung in the air, thick with unspoken promises and lingering desires.

Hongjoong took a moment to absorb your words, his heart heavy with understanding. It was one of the many reasons he fell for you—your morals, your commitment to doing what felt right. A part of him scolded himself for putting you in this position, for effortlessly having you succumbed to his advances, leading you to break your own morals. Yet, another part of him reveled in the power he held over you, a power that felt intoxicating, even as he recognized the gravity of your emotions.

The way you had responded to him, almost as if he could mold you to fit his desires. But the weight of that power was a double-edged sword, and he felt the sharpness of it cut deep. He knew that despite his influence, the power you held over him was immeasurable. It was your strength, your conviction, that grounded him and made him strive to be better. In that moment of clarity, he realized that he wanted to support you, to stand by your side as you navigated your feelings and decisions. He would never want to jeopardize the morals you held dear. No, he wanted to be the reason you felt empowered, not the reason you felt conflicted. The dynamic between you was complex, a delicate balance of power and vulnerability.

Hongjoong understood that while he could push boundaries, it was ultimately your choices that mattered most. He longed for a connection that honored both of your strengths, one built on mutual respect and love. And as he sat there contemplating, he made a silent vow to always cherish and protect the heart of the woman he adored.

“If he hurts you, I will kill him,” Hongjoong whispered, his voice low and intense as he leaned in to kiss you deeply. When he pulled away, he brushed away a lingering tear with a gentle finger, his gaze unwavering.

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling deep within you, grounding you amid the chaos.

“Let me get ready,” he said, rising from the bed and walking toward the door, the moment hanging heavy with unspoken feelings. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the promise of what was yet to come.

———

Arriving at your apartment, you unbuckle the seatbelt in Hongjoong’s car, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. You turn to him, your heart racing slightly.

“You can come inside if you want…” you offer. A soft smile spreads across Hongjoong’s face as he nods. Together you make your way to your front door, the atmosphere quiet and contemplative.

“I’m going to shower real quick. Please make yourself comfortable,” you say softly, a hint of nervousness in your tone.

“Of course,” he replies, his smile warm as he watches you disappear into the bathroom.

Left alone, Hongjoong takes a moment to explore your space. He glances around, taking in the photos that line the walls—memories frozen in time, each image a glimpse into your life. His eyes fall on a particular picture of you and Siwoo, both smiling widely, captured in a moment of joy. A scoff escapes him; the image feels like a reminder of a life you were ready to leave behind. Hongjoong’s jaw tightens as he rolls his eyes, a deep breath escaping his lips. He knows the complexity of this situation, the emotional fallout from your two-year relationship weighing heavily on both of you. He sighs softly, you made him feel things he hadn’t anticipated, he wants you all to himself. But he knew he had to be patient, to respect the delicate balance of your emotions.

After your shower, you change into fitted slacks and a sleek black buttoned blouse. You quickly do your regular routine of getting ready for the day, not wanting to make Hongjoong wait any longer. As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up with notifications, and your stomach sinks. Fifty missed alerts from Siwoo stare back at you, an overwhelming wave of dread washing over. You can’t bring yourself to open them, so you quickly shove your phone into your purse.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you make your way to find Hongjoong. “I’m ready,” you announce, and he rises from the couch.

“Let’s go,” he says, with a soft smile.

——

Inside the car, the air was thick with tension, broken only by the relentless vibrations of your phone. Each buzz felt like a persistent reminder of the chaos you were trying to escape.

“Y/N, you should to respond to him,” Hongjoong said, his voice low and authoritative as he kept his eyes fixed on the road. There was an edge to his tone that made it clear he wasn’t asking.

You turned to him, taken aback by the intensity in his gaze.

“Or at least see what he wants. The constant buzzing is getting on my nerves,” he added, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, but there was an undercurrent of impatience that betrayed his facade.

Feeling a heat rise in your cheeks, you muttered an apology and reached for your phone, heart racing. The screen illuminated your notifications, messages that you were too afraid to read fully. You hesitated, the anxiety coiling tighter in your chest, and ultimately decided against opening them in front of Hongjoong. Instead, you switched your phone to sleep mode, the screen darkening as you tried to suppress the turmoil within.

“What did he say?” Hongjoong’s tone remained steady as he parked the car.

“Ah, nothing,” you replied. You forced a smile, though it felt fragile, ready to shatter under the weight of his scrutiny.

Hongjoong’s eyebrow arched, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. He didn’t want to pry, but he couldn’t help but be bothered by the way he felt about this situation. You were vulnerable, and that stirred something possessive in him. He wanted to shield you from Siwoo and anyone else who dared to threaten your peace. That selfish part of him yearned for you—wanting you to be his, wholly and completely.

As the silence stretched between you, he realized he was wrestling with his own desires. It was a delicate balance: the urge to be there for you and the fear of pushing too hard, of making you feel rushed or pressured. He could live with the selfishness, as long as it meant you remained in his life. But for the sake of you. He tries to calm himself down. And with that, you two exit the car, making your way up to the building.

———

You tried to navigate the busy day as normally as possible, accompanying Hongjoong to his meetings, organizing his schedule, and tackling the last-minute tasks that piled up on your desk. With each passing hour, you appreciated the way he mirrored your efforts, striving to keep things as routine as he could. It was clear that he genuinely wanted you to feel comfortable, that he respected your choices, even as the weight of your situation lingered between you.

During a brief moment of respite, you found yourself lingering in the coffee room, the scent of freshly brewed coffee swirling around you as you stared at your phone. Finally, after much hesitation, you decided to confront the flood of messages from Siwoo. Anxiety tightened its grip on your chest as you opened the thread.

Siwoo:

- What do you mean you want to break up?

- You can’t just leave like that without an explanation.

- Do you know who you’re dealing with?

- After everything I have done for you, this is really low of you.

- Answer my calls, Y/N.

- Where are you?

The list went on, each message a reminder of the turmoil you were trying to escape. A sudden wave of emotion washed over you, threatening to spill over as you fought to hold back tears. You didn’t want to make a scene, not here, not now. Taking a deep breath, you inhaled slowly, releasing it in a heavy sigh that echoed your internal struggle.

With shaky fingers, you finally mustered the courage to respond.

Y/N: Can we meet after my shift? I get off early today.

You hesitated, the thought of confronting Siwoo in person filling you with dread. You didn’t want to hash this out over the phone, not when everything felt so raw. Almost instantly, your phone buzzed with his reply.

Siwoo: That’s fine. But what took you so long to reply? I’ve been trying to reach you.

Y/N: Sorry, I had a long day yesterday and fell asleep.

A pang of guilt shot through you as you typed the words, a familiar shame settling in your stomach. But it felt necessary; a protective barrier between you and the storm that was Siwoo’s jealousy. You knew that he had a tendency toward aggression when provoked, and you wanted to avoid igniting that fury. Deep down, you understood that your choice to be unfaithful had been wrong. Yet, it felt equally wrong to ignore how Siwoo had broken your trust long before you ever crossed that line.

As you placed your phone back on the counter, the gravity of your situation pressed heavily against your chest.

As you make your way back to your desk, the weight of the afternoon’s distractions clings to you. You try to immerse yourself in work, pouring over spreadsheets and memos, but your mind is a relentless storm, swirling with thoughts that refuse to be silenced.

“Y/N?” The soft, familiar voice breaks through your reverie. You look up to find Hongjoong standing before you, an easy confidence in his stance that sets your heart racing. The mere sight of him sends a rush of warmth to your cheeks. You can’t help but wish you could just leap into his arms and escape the world outside.

“Yes, Sir?” you respond, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I have a few files I need you to look over. Please follow me to my office,” he says, his tone calm yet inviting. You nod, swallowing the fluttering excitement in your chest, and fall in step behind him as he leads you down the hallway to his office.

Once inside, he strides to his desk and powers up his computer. The soft hum of machinery fills the room as he pulls out his chair and gestures for you to sit. Your brow furrows in confusion.

“You want me to sit in your chair, sir?” you ask, surprised.

“Yes, Y/N. Just so you can clearly see the concerns I have,” he chuckles lightly, his laughter sending a thrill through you. You hesitate, then shift into his chair, acutely aware of his presence behind you.

Hongjoong leans closer, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he maneuvers the cursor on the screen. “So this right here needs some adjustment…” he explains, his eyes focused intently on the monitor. You try to absorb his words, but the closeness of him—a solid warmth behind you—makes it difficult to concentrate.

Desperately shaking off your swirling thoughts, you force your gaze back to the screen. Hongjoong continues to highlight various aspects of the files, his voice steady and authoritative. You can’t help but look at him, captivated by how he maintains his professionalism despite the tension that lingers in the air between you. His features are striking—his nose perfectly sculpted, skin flawless, and lips plush and inviting.

Caught in the moment, you lean in, a sudden impulse driving you, and press your lips against his. The kiss is deep and electric, a bold confession that silences him mid-sentence. As you pull away, realization crashes over you, and your eyes widen in shock. Hongjoong mirrors your surprise

shock and amusement flickering in his eyes.

“S—sorry…” you stammer, heat flooding your face as you quickly turn your gaze away, mortified by your impulsive action.

“God, Y/N, don’t make this harder for me,” Hongjoong replies, a smirk creeping across his lips. He closes his eyes briefly, as if to collect himself, then spins the chair around so you’re facing him directly. You feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and you instinctively try to hide your face in your hands.

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. He’s watching you with a soft smirk, though there’s a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes—a mixture of amusement and longing.

“Don’t tease me like that, or I will deal with Siwoo myself,” he adds, his tone shifting slightly, a hint of seriousness threading through his playful demeanor. Your stomach twists at the mention of Siwoo, a lingering source of tension between you two.

“I’m sorry…” you murmur, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on your shoulders. You glance down, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

“Hongjoong…” you say softly, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the room. The weight of the moment hangs in the air, charged with the unspoken feelings swirling between you.

“Hm?” he hums, glancing over at you, his expression curious, almost playful.

You take a moment, searching for the right words to express the confusion that has been gnawing at you. “I don’t know why you make me do these types of things I don’t normally do…” Your voice trails off, the vulnerability of your admission leaving you feeling exposed.

A soft chuckle escapes him, and you feel a flutter in your stomach at the sound. “What do you mean, baby?” he asks, his smirk is soft as he takes in the sight of your flustered face, the way your cheeks flush with color.

You look down, suddenly shy under his gaze, but you force yourself to continue. “You… make me do impulsive things without even telling me to. I don’t know why,” you finally admit, your heart racing as the words leave your lips.

His eyes darken slightly as he licks his lips, a lingering gaze settling on your mouth. “You and me both, baby,” he replies, his tone low and teasing, but with an edge of sincerity that makes your pulse quicken.

Before you can process his words, Hongjoong leans down, closing the space between you with a magnetic pull. His lips capture yours once again, warm and inviting, a gentle urgency igniting within you. The kiss deepens, erasing any lingering doubts as you melt into him, surrendering to the moment.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the connection—the world outside fading away until it’s just the two of you, caught in a cocoon of shared desires and unspoken understanding. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, anchoring you as you lean into him, your heart racing with every brush of his lips against yours. Hongjoong slowly pulls away from you and curses softly.

“Fuck, I need to stop…” He chuckles, his breath against your skin sends a shiver throughout your body.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper.

“Stop apologizing Y/N” Hongjoong replied sternly, but softly. You stare at Hongjoong, the silence between you thick with unspoken emotions, a sense of awe lingering in the air. Time seems to stretch as you both take in the moment, each heartbeat echoing the connection that has just sparked.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door pulls you back to reality. You jump slightly, the interruption breaking the fragile tension that had enveloped you. Your heart races as you spring up from the seat. Hongjoong shifts to sit on the edge of his desk, his expression a blend of casual confidence and intrigue.

You take a steadying breath and approach the door, determined to regain your composure. As you open it, you’re met by a colleague from the project department, his demeanor serious yet slightly flustered.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sir,” he says, glancing between you and Hongjoong. “But these are the files you wanted me to fix.” He hands you a USB drive, the weight of it feeling heavy in your palm.

You accept it, nodding as he bows slightly before retreating down the hallway. Turning back to Hongjoong, you raise an eyebrow, unable to mask your disbelief. “You already assigned someone to fix the files?”

Hongjoong’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leans back against the desk. “Oh, I guess I forgot…” he replies, his tone casual but the underlying tension unmistakable.

You look at him confused. “Right,” you retort, your voice laced with sarcasm as you walk back toward him, the USB drive clenched tightly in your hand.

“Here you go, sir,” you say, handing it over to him. “I’ll be getting back to work then.” You say and quickly make your way back to your desk.

———

The hours slipped by quicker than you anticipated. The workday had been a blur, each minute slipping into the next as if the world was rushing around you. An uncomfortable knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach at the thought of meeting Siwoo later. You had been dreading this, though you couldn’t exactly say why. But now that the time was nearing, that familiar wave of dread hit you full force.

You grabbed your bag, shoving your things into it with quick, distracted movements. As you headed toward the exit, your pulse quickened. You tried to shake off the uneasy feeling clenching your chest, hoping some fresh air would help.

But hhen you stepped outside, you felt even more suffocated. Siwoo was standing just outside the entrance, leaning against the wall. His posture was rigid, his jaw tight. He looked like he’d been waiting for a while.

The sight of him made your heart drop into your stomach. You didn’t expected him to show up at your workplace but here he is, standing there like he had something on his mind. Something heavy.

“S—Siwoo… you didn’t have to come all the way here,” you stammered, taking a hesitant step toward him. The words barely made it past your lips, thick with the anxiety you couldn’t shake. He straightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a sharpness that made your heart race.

“Why do you want to break up, Y/N?” His voice was loud, almost demanding, and the question hung between you like a cold wind. “I couldn’t wait anymore. I came here to get my answer.”

His words hit you like a punch. You hadn’t expected this. Not now, not like this. He looked... disheveled, like he hadn’t slept. The dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair was messier than usual—something was off. And it wasn’t just his appearance. The tension in his posture made your stomach tighten with a mix of unease and fear.

You blinked, struggling to find the right words. “Siwoo… Can we talk somewhere else? Not here, not in front of my work…” Your voice wavered, almost pleading, hoping he would agree to move somewhere more private. You didn’t want to have this conversation in such a public place, not with the heavy weight of his accusation in the air.

He didn’t answer at first, just stood there, staring at you. Then, with a sharp nod, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward his car.

You winced at the sudden pressure. The force of his grip was too strong, too fast, and it startled you. You barely had time to react before you were being dragged along. Anxiety shot through you as you followed him to the car, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the pain from his grip or the sudden fear of what was about to happen, but you felt your whole body tense.

Once you were in the car, Siwoo slammed the door behind you, his actions quick and almost frantic. The engine roared to life, and without another word, he sped off. His driving was reckless, faster than the speed limit, the car jerking over the road as he ignored any sign of caution. You could feel your stomach churn, the sick feeling intensifying as he weaved in and out of traffic, his eyes focused straight ahead, his face expressionless.

The air in the car felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, to ask him what was going on, but the words seemed to die in your throat. You were scared to speak, scared that something would happen if you did. The tension between you was unbearable, and your mind raced, thinking about everything you hadn’t said yet.

Finally, he pulled into a parking lot. You didn’t even need to look around to recognize the café. It was one of your favorite spots, the place you two had come to so often when things were good. Back when your relationship had felt easy, full of lighthearted conversations and laughter. Now, the place seemed like a cruel reminder of what had changed.

You followed him into the quiet almost empty café, your steps heavy, your mind already bracing for the worst. The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sound between you the faint hum of conversation from other patrons. It was so quiet you could hear the tick of the clock on the wall.

Finally, the silence was broken by Siwoo’s voice. “So, are you going to tell me why you want to break up?” His tone was sharp, his eyes cold and calculating.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Siwoo, I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’ve fallen out of love,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words felt like a confession, like you were admitting some deep, unbearable truth. You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling the weight of everything that had been building between you. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, before you spoke again. “We haven’t been on a real date in months. And when we do spend time together, it’s like you’re not really there. You’re distracted, distant.” Your voice trembled with emotion.

Siwoo’s expression darkened. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned forward, his voice hard. “Is that it? That’s your reason, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s not just that. It’s everything. You’re always too busy, and when we are together, it feels like you’re... somewhere else. I’m tired of pretending everything’s fine.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s all there is to it? You know how busy I am.” His voice was laced with annoyance. “I’ve been working so hard, and you’re sitting here complaining about flowers and dates.”

You blinked, hurt flashing across your face. “You don’t get it, do you, Siwoo? You can’t just throw flowers at me and expect everything to be okay. I needed more than that. I needed you to be present. I needed you to care about me, but I realized that wasn’t a priority for you”

He stared at you, disbelief flickering in his eyes. “You’re just going to throw everything away over that?”

“Yes. I can’t do this anymore. I know what I want and need, and it’s not this.” You were shaking now, the frustration boiling over. “I’ve tried to make it work. I’ve tried to understand why you’re distant, but nothing ever changes. And you know what? I don’t even think it matters anymore.”

Siwoo’s eyes flashed, his expression turning angry, defensive. “So that’s it? You’re leaving me because of that?” He stood up suddenly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. “You’ve never cared this much before. There must be another reason why you’re leaving.”

You were silent for a moment, then looked him straight in the eyes. “I know you’ve been cheating on me” you said calmly, emotionlessly.

Siwoo’s face went blank, then a flicker of shock crossed his features before he recovered. “What are you talking about?” His voice was strained, disbelieving.

“You’ve been cheating on me, Siwoo. I don’t know with who, but I know.”

His expression faltered, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man he used to be—the one who had once cared for you. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by anger and denial. “You’re crazy,” he spat, his voice sharp, eyes narrowing. “You don’t know anything.”

“You’ve stood me up, you’ve ignored me, you’ve been on your phone more than you’ve been with me. You’ve made excuses, and you’ve disappeared for hours, and I’m not stupid, Siwoo. I know what’s been going on.”

He didn’t answer right away, his chest heaving with frustration. You stood up, your legs shaking but resolute. “I’m done, Siwoo. We’re over. Don’t contact me again.”

You turned and walked away from the table, not looking back. The door to the café closed behind you with a sharp click, and you stepped into the cool evening air. A taxi pulled up, and you climbed inside, finally feeling like you could breathe again.

———

Inside the café, Siwoo sat motionless, staring at the empty space where you’d just been. Anger churned in his chest. How had this happened? How had you figured it out? He’d always thought you were too naive, too dependent on him to see what he was doing. But now you knew, and it pissed him off. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling inside him.

With a sudden burst of irritation, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. The voice on the other end was soft and sweet. "Hello? Professor Siwoo?"

"Hey, honey," he said, his voice suddenly calm, as if the rage he’d felt only moments before had vanished. "I’m a bit stressed. Can I see you?"

"Of course, you can, sir. I’ll be waiting for you."

He let out a long sigh, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a fraction. After a moment’s pause, he ended the call and drove back to campus.

In his office, a young woman walked in, her face carrying that familiar smug expression. “Oh, Professor Siwoo... Did you not want to see your boring girlfriend again?” She said it with a playful edge, stepping toward him and placing her hands on his chest.

Siwoo didn’t answer immediately. His jaw tightened, and he muttered under his breath, “She pissed me off today. I needed to see your pretty face.”

The woman giggled, slipping her arms around his waist. "I hope she keeps pissing you off. You get so rough when you’re upset." She leaned in closer, and Siwoo grunted, running a hand down her neck.

“I’m so sad this is my last semester with you sir” she whispered, her voice low, her hands drifting over him. “Promise me, you’ll still let me visit you professor?”

Siwoo’s face remained cold, his expression unreadable. He pulled her closer, but his mind was far from the moment. All he could think about was you, and how you had the audacity to confront him. How you knew. Siwoo stood motionless in the dimly lit room, his gaze fixed on the woman before him. She had dropped to her knees in front of him, her movements hurried, almost desperate, as she unfastened his belt and pulled down his pants. The soft rustling of fabric was the only sound that broke the heavy silence between them. He watched, detached, as she began to work with a practiced ease, her hands swift and efficient. But Siwoo's mind was far from the scene before him. His thoughts, unbidden and unwanted, drifted back to you. How could he not think of you? It was maddening, the way your face lingered in his mind like an echo, always there, always reminding him of the things he didn't want to admit. His fists clenched at his sides as frustration churned inside him.

Why should he care? He could have anyone, couldn't he? Women like this, easy and available, were nothing to him. But it wasn't her that occupied his thoughts. It was you. He thought to himself you probably got too confident after getting that stupid job as a secretary. Making more money than him, feeling a superiority over him. That’s probably why you left so easily. Siwoo was angry. But his thoughts pulled away once he finished on the woman. Groaning, he pulled her up and pushed her towards the door.

“What!? That’s it?! What the hell?!” The woman exclaims in frustration.

“Get the hell out” Siwoo pushes her out the door and shuts it behind him. Fuming with anger at the thought of you.

———

You stepped into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the space. A wave of exhaustion washed over you, each muscle in your body slumping as if they were weights pulling you down. You’d finally done it; you’d told Siwoo that it was over. The relief coursed through you like a warm current, yet it was quickly shadowed by an unsettling anxiety that gnawed at your insides for reasons you couldn’t quite grasp.

What lingered in the back of your mind was the image of Hongjoong. All you wanted was to see him, to feel the comfort of his presence wrap around you like a soft blanket. Being with him was different from anything you had known before—a connection that felt deeper, more genuine. It was as if he had unlocked a part of your heart that you didn’t even know existed. But that exhilaration was tempered by caution; you recognized the need to pause, to breathe, and to reflect before rushing into something new.

Determined to take care of yourself, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the familiar embrace of your sofa. The cushions molded around you, a sanctuary from the turmoil outside. You closed your eyes, letting the silence envelop you, drawing a deep breath as you mentally shifted into self-care mode. Tonight was for you. You would indulge in a long, soothing shower, perhaps light a candle or two, and lose yourself in a book or your favorite music. Your life outside could wait; right now, it was all about reclaiming your peace and preparing your heart for whatever came next.

For the next few hours, you surrender yourself to the soothing embrace of rest and relaxation. The long, warm shower you took had been a necessity, the steam enveloping you like a comforting blanket, washing away the remnants of the day’s stress. Now, as you settle into your soft, inviting bed, the sheets cradle you like a gentle cocoon, promising solace and peace.

You close your eyes, willing your body to unwind and drift off into the blissful realm of sleep. Yet, despite your efforts, your mind refuses to cooperate. Instead of the quiet darkness you seek, thoughts of Hongjoong begin to swirl within you, vibrant and insistent.

His killer smirk, soft but stern voice, his intoxicating touch on yours... You toss and turn, trying to shake off the warmth that spreads through you at the thought of him.

Each time you attempt to close your eyes, visions of his face fill the void, making it impossible to find peace. You think of his confidence, the way he carries himself with an effortless charm that draws everyone in. Frustrated, you turn onto your side, pulling the blanket closer as if it might shield you from the feelings that are threatening to overwhelm you. But the more you resist, the stronger the pull becomes, leaving you craving him. All of him.

You remember the feeling of his fingers moving inside you. His warm soft lips devouring you. And the way he called your name so effortlessly… A wave of warmth filled between your legs as you began to think of him. You curse to yourself for having such lewd thoughts. But you couldn’t help yourself, that night he showed you something you never knew you could experience. And gosh do you wish you can feel that ecstasy again. Unconsciously, your hand began to move towards the heat between your legs. You let yourself envelop in the touch of yourself as you begin to think of the only man you want. Hongjoong.

You began to draw circles on your clit as you think of his strong hands instead of yours. You bite your lip trying to suppress a moan, remembering the smug look on his face as he looked at you in awe. You slip your fingers into your wet, warm entrance slowly.

“Fuck… Hongjoong~” You quietly moan. Your mind gets flooded with Hongjoong’s hard cock when he was fucking you. He filled you up so good and hit all the right spots effortlessly. You wish it was him touching you right now instead of yourself. You wish he was here holding you and telling you dirty, degrading, yet loving words.

As your pace began to speed up, tears slipped from your eyes. The sudden remembrance of Hongjoong being possessive and only wanting your tears for himself sent you over the edge. Your body filled with an overwhelming of amount of pleasure.

“A-ahh H-hongjoong~~” You squeeze your breasts and release loud moan a you come undone on your own fingers. You lay there trying to catch your breath as you slowly remove your fingers. You feel dirty about the fact you just got off on the mere thought of Hongjoong. You quickly clean yourself up before dropping back down on the soft cushion. You sigh and close your eyes… Finally, the drowsiness casts over your body. Your eyes began to go heavy from the orgasm you just had, and soon you fall asleep into a deep slumber… still thinking about Hongjoong.

———

The following morning, you arrive at the office feeling a sense of renewal that had eluded you in the past few days. With Siwoo officially out of your life, there’s an undeniable spark of curiosity about what could develop between you and Hongjoong. You’ve thought about it all night, and now, armed with a daily iced Americano for him, you stride confidently toward his office.

Setting the cup on his desk, you can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling a flutter of anticipation. Glancing at the agenda in your hands, you mentally prepare for the day ahead before retreating back to your desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you hear the familiar greeting echo around the office. You look up from your computer to find him standing by the entrance, offering a gentle smile to the staff. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel encouraged to engage.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim—” you say, your voice steady, but he doesn’t even glance in your direction. Instead, his gaze is fixed on his watch, and he interrupts you with an air of urgency.

“Miss Y/N, cancel the meeting with the marketing department at 1 PM. I have an interview to attend instead.” With that, he strides into his office, the door closing with a quiet finality that leaves you bewildered.

Confusion settles in as you take your seat once more. You quickly type out a cancellation email to the marketing team, but your mind races with questions. What could possibly be bothering him? Why hadn’t he even looked at you? You exhale softly, staring at the screen, trying to shake off the unease.

Moments later, a response arrives in your inbox—a request from the head manager of the marketing team to reschedule. You glance at Hongjoong’s closed door, feeling a pang of uncertainty. He hadn’t mentioned any rescheduling… Driven by a mixture of concern and determination, you rise from your chair, notebook in hand.

You knock softly on the door, waiting for a response.

“Come in,” his voice calls out, calm yet authoritative. You open the door and step inside, closing it gently behind you. Hongjoong is hunched over his computer, typing with an intensity that makes you feel almost invisible. Your heart sinks at his apparent disregard.

“Uhm, Sir, the marketing team is asking for a rescheduled time for the meeting you wanted to cancel.” You speak clearly, hoping to draw his attention.

“Tell them I don’t want to see them for a while. They need to fix their ideas. It’s pointless for me to attend a meeting when they can’t do anything right,” he replies, his tone tinged with frustration. His eyes remain glued to the screen, leaving you feeling dismissed.

“Yes, Sir…” you murmur, jotting down his words. As you begin to turn to leave, an impulse makes you hesitate and look back at him.

“Ah, Sir,” you say, fiddling nervously with your pen. His indifference stings, yet you press on. “Shall I accompany you to the interview? I could take notes or—”

“No need.” he cuts you off, the word clipped and final. A sharp pang strikes your heart, disappointment crashing over you.

“Alright then, Sir. I will get back to work…” you reply softly, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air as you turn away, your thoughts swirling with questions and lingering hopes.

You immerse yourself in your morning tasks, trying to push aside the troubling thoughts about Hongjoong’s sudden dismissiveness. Why had he been so cold? You remind yourself that it might be for the best—not rushing into something new with him right after Siwoo. After all, you need time to heal.

As the hours tick by, the flood of questions from the marketing team overwhelms you. Hongjoong hasn’t provided any clear answers, leaving you to craft professional, half-hearted apologies while encouraging them to resolve their issues independently. Frustration simmers beneath your surface, and you find yourself stretching in your chair, letting out a sigh that feels too loud in the otherwise quiet office.

“Hi, I have a meeting with Mr. Kim today at 1 PM.” A soft voice pulls you back to the present. You look up to see a young woman standing in front of your desk, she holds a confident aura. She looks to be in college, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Ah, yes. His office is right there,” you reply, offering her a reassuring smile. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” You begin to dial his office phone, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Please, take a seat,” you add, keeping your tone warm despite the weight on your mind.

“Mr. Kim, your interview with—” you glance back at the young lady, uncertain of her name.

“Lee Haeun,” she supplies quickly.

“—with Lee Haeun is here,” you finish, relaying the message into the phone. Hongjoong’s voice crackles back with a brief instruction to let her in, and you hang up, rising from your seat.

“Right this way, Haeun,” you say, leading her to Hongjoong’s office. You open the door and usher her inside.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. Thank you so much for having me,” Haeun says, bowing slightly, her nerves palpable.

“My pleasure. Let’s start the interview. Miss Y/N, you may leave,” Hongjoong replies, his voice smooth but his attention solely on Haeun. He glances at you for just a moment, a fleeting look that sends your heart racing, before turning back to the applicant with a smile.

Your stomach churns at the sight. Why are you feeling this way? You chastise yourself internally. This is just work. He’s likely trying to maintain professionalism, to keep things strictly business. Still, the pang of confusion is hard to shake as you retreat back to your desk, your mind swirling with questions and a twinge of hurt. The door closes behind you, and the distance feels more pronounced than ever.

———

Hongjoong sits at his desk, the faint sound of tapping keys fading into the background as he pulls out his notepad. The room is filled with an air of anticipation, and across from him, Lee Haeun shifts nervously in her chair. Her hands clasp tightly in her lap, betraying her anxiety despite the confident smile she tries to maintain.

“Okay, Lee Haeun,” he begins, his eyes flicking to the application laid out before him. “It says here you’re applying to be part of the marketing team?”

“Yes, sir,” Haeun replies, her voice steadying as she leans slightly forward. “I’m majoring in business marketing right now, and I will be graduating in two years.”

“Which college do you attend?” Hongjoong asks, looking up from the paper, his brow slightly furrowing in curiosity.

“I attend the University located downtown, sir,” she responds, a bright smile lighting up her face. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, noting the irony of her choice; it’s the same university where Siwoo teaches. The thought lingers in his mind, but he quickly shoves it aside.

As the interview progresses, Hongjoong asks her all the necessary questions. Haeun responds thoughtfully, showcasing her diligence and genuine enthusiasm for the field. Hongjoong finds himself impressed; she speaks with a clarity that reflects her passion.

After what feels like a thorough exchange, Hongjoong leans back in his chair, folding his arms as he assesses her. “Well, your qualifications look promising for our marketing team,” he says, standing up and gesturing toward her. “However, I will be discussing final decisions with my team. We will contact you either later today or within the next week to let you know if you got the job.”

Haeun’s face lights up with gratitude. “Of course, thank you, Mr. Kim,” she replies, bowing as she stands up and exits Hongjoong’s office.

———

You look up as the door to Hongjoong's office swings open, revealing Haeun stepping out with confidence and a radiant smile.

“How did the interview go?” you ask, genuinely curious with a soft smile.

Haeun turns, her grin stretching wider, lighting up her features. “I think it went well! I should hear back in a few days about whether I got the job.”

“I hope for the best!” you reply, waving her off with a supportive smile as she walks away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You glance at the clock on your desk; it’s your hour break. A wave of relief washes over you as you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a small sigh. The thought of free time is a welcome escape from the monotony of the day. However, your gaze drifts back to Hongjoong’s office door, and a nagging thought surfaces. Should you go talk to him? You’ve noticed that he seems a bit off lately, maybe there’s something bothering him.

Rising from your desk, you make your way to his office, the soft click of your heels against the floor breaking the silence. With a gentle knock, you call out, “Sir?”

“Come in” Hongjoong replies, his voice calm.

You open the door and step inside, finding him engrossed in his files. He looks up, finally making eye contact with you, his gaze steady and penetrating.

“Can I help you, Miss Y/N?” he asks, his tone neutral.

You close the door behind you and take a few steps toward his desk. “Sir… Is everything alright?” Your voice is soft, tinged with concern.

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “Everything is fine, Miss Y/N. Why do you ask?” He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair, exuding an air of relaxed authority.

“Uhm… I just noticed you’ve seemed a bit distant lately, sir…” You trail off, glancing down at the polished floor, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“How so?” he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed, his interest piqued.

You take a breath, trying to steady your nerves. “You… seem dismissive of me, sir. I apologize if I did something wrong.” You look back up at him, worry etched on your face.

Hongjoong scoffs lightly as he rises from his chair. “I didn’t say you did anything wrong, Miss Y/N.” He takes a step closer, and you feel your heart quicken. The space between you feels charged, and you hold your breath as he approaches.

He walks past you, and for a moment, you think he’s heading for the door. Instead, he turns the lock, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet office. Your heart races at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

With a slow turn, he faces you, his demeanor shifting as he loosens the tie around his neck and makes his way towards you. You begin to step back, your body bumping into his desk. You’re against the cold wood, as you look up towards him. Hongjoong slightly hovers over you and smirks.

“Did you talk to the marketing team?” he asks, his voice smooth but direct. You blink, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected question.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your voice small.

He hums in acknowledgment, his expression contemplative. “I might hire that new girl, Lee Haeun. She’s smart and seems very organized. The office has been slacking lately.” His words hang in the air, and a sense of panic begins to stir within you. What position was Haeun applying for? Was Hongjoong considering replacing you? The thoughts swirl in your mind, each more alarming than the last.

“I—I’m sorry, sir. If I haven’t been at my best, it wasn’t my intention to slack off. I—“ Panic takes hold, and tears spring to your eyes as the words spill out in a rush, your voice trembling. Hongjoong's soft chuckle cuts through your anxiety, leaving you confused.

“Oh baby, do you really think I’m going to replace you?” He steps closer, his hands cupping your face as he wipes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. You can’t help but notice the way his lips curl slightly as he studies your face, his eyes lingering on your pretty watered eyes, and tear-streaked cheeks.

“No one can replace you,” he whispers, and the sincerity of his words washes over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart. The flutter in your chest begins to chase away the heaviness of your worries as you look up at him, your breaths coming more steadily.

“Did you talk to Siwoo?” he asks quietly, a hint of concern slipping into his tone.

“I did,” you nod, meeting his gaze. “I talked to him yesterday. We’re over.” The words hang heavy between you, but before you can fully grasp the reality of it, Hongjoong’s lips capture yours, urgent and insistent.

His kiss deepens, and you find yourself melting against him, your heart racing in response to the electricity sparking between you.

“Good,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm, before he pulls you back into a kiss that steals your breath away once more. The kiss becomes sloppy, the way his tongue laps over your lips over and over. You invite him in, enveloping all of him in you. Your arms are wrapped over his neck as the kiss deepens. Hongjoong softly bites your bottom lip and in response you whimper. Making Hongjoong chuckle.

“Fuck, is it bad that I want to take you right here?” Hongjoong confesses as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“We can’t…” you whisper, slightly thrilled but scared at the thought of getting caught.

“I know…” Hongjoong’s hands drop from your face and wraps around your waist. Hongjoong’s warmth enveloped you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the gentle press of his opened mouth kisses sending shivers down your spine. Each touch igniting a flutter in your heart. You gasp at the sensation of his tongue against your skin.

His hands tightened around your waist, a comforting grip that made you feel cherished. With a hefty sigh, he snuggled even closer, his body molding against yours as if he were seeking solace in your presence. Time seemed to stand still, and for a fleeting moment, nothing else mattered. Your fingers instinctively rose to his hair, brushing through the soft strands that felt like silk beneath your touch.

“Are you okay, Hongjoong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with concern. He responded with another tender kiss on your neck, savoring the closeness before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“I wasn’t ignoring you this morning because I was mad or upset with you,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding. There was a vulnerability in his tone that tugged at your heartstrings. “I was frustrated with the marketing team. They haven’t been performing well, and the Exhibition is in a little over a month, that’s why I had that sudden interview.”

You watched as he spoke, his expression earnest and sincere. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease as he opened up.“I’m sorry if I worried you,” he continued, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hip, the fabric of your shirt soft against your skin. His touch was tender, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for assuming the worst,” you replied, offering him a soft smile that you hoped conveyed your understanding. The bond between you felt stronger in that moment, forged through shared concerns and open communication.

Hongjoong’s face softened at your response, and he leaned in closer, the playful glimmer in his eyes returning.

“After work, let me take you out on a proper date,” he suggested, his smile infectious. You couldn’t help but nod enthusiastically, a thrill of excitement coursing through you at the thought of spending more time together.

He chuckled softly at your eagerness, the sound wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Leaning in, he planted another sweet kiss on your lips, leaving you breathless. It was a promise of the evening to come, and as you leaned into him, you knew that this moment was just the beginning of something beautiful.

———

As the sun decreased in the sky, You found yourself glancing at the clock over and over, each tick amplifying the racing of your heart. The promised date with Hongjoong makes you anxious is a good way. This will be the first time you’ll see him outside the sterile confines of the office, and anticipation coiled in your stomach like a tightly wound spring. Despite spending the last two years as his secretary, you realized you hardly knew him. The past few days gave you a sneak peak into what he’s like as a lover and your heart fluttered at the thought of it.

You sat at your desk, watching as your colleagues began to trickle out of the office, their laughter and chatter fading into the distance. The clock ticked down the final minutes of the workday, and a flutter of anticipation danced in your stomach. You quickly pulled out your compact mirror, its surface reflecting the soft light of the room. With steady hands, you began touching up your makeup, reapplying lip balm and smoothing down a few unruly strands of hair that had escaped your carefully styled look.

Once you were satisfied, you turned to your desk, gathering your belongings with a sense of urgency. As you packed away your notebook and pens, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with nerves.

Just then, as if he could sense your eagerness, Hongjoong emerged from his office, his briefcase in hand. He paused for a moment, his gaze finding yours, and a soft smile broke across his face. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, and you instinctively returned the smile, rising from your seat as if drawn by an invisible force.

“Are you ready?” he asked, approaching you with a casual confidence that made you feel both at ease and electrified. You nodded, your voice momentarily lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts.

Without hesitation, he reached out, taking your bag from your hand. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine as he swung the strap over his shoulder with an effortless grace.

“Let’s go,” he said, giving you a playful wink that made your cheeks flush. With a mix of eagerness and trepidation, you fell into step behind him, as you both make your way to his car.

———

Hongjoong took you to a charming local restaurant that felt like a hidden gem, its exterior adorned with hand-painted signs and warm lighting. The cozy atmosphere, with wooden accents and family photos lining the walls, was a stark contrast to the upscale dining spots you had expected him to choose. Yet, as you stepped inside, you felt an unexpected warmth wash over you. It was clear that he wanted to make this evening about comfort and connection, rather than extravagance, and that thought made your heart swell.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants,” he said casually, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “My parents always took my brother and me here as kids.” The way he spoke about it brought a smile to your face; the small detail felt intimate, revealing a side of him that was endearing and genuine.

As you settled into a booth, the scent of savory dishes wafted around you, making your mouth water. You glanced over the menu, excitement bubbling within you. “What do you recommend?” you asked, turning to him with a bright smile.

Hongjoong looked thoughtful, scanning the menu. “Hmm, their beef short ribs are really good, and their tofu soup is delicious,” he suggested as his eyes scanned through the menu.

“I trust you to order,” you replied, a soft giggle escaping your lips. He raised an eyebrow at you in surprise.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/N,” he chuckled, the sound warm and inviting.

“I’m not! I trust your judgment since you’ve been here many times. I want to have what you get,” you insisted, your sincerity reflected in your gaze. He laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine, and nodded in agreement.

Minutes passed, and one by one, a delightful array of side dishes and main entrees began to fill the table. Hongjoong wasn’t exaggerating; each bite was like a comforting embrace, reminiscent of home-cooked meals.

As the evening deepened, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything from childhood memories to current events, laughter punctuating your exchanges. With every shared story and knowing glance, you felt yourself falling harder for him.

As you took your last few bites, savoring the rich flavors of the meal, you caught Hongjoong’s gaze. He was watching you with an affectionate smile, clearly admiring how much you were enjoying the food.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asked, leaning back against the booth with a relaxed yet attentive demeanor. You looked up at him, cheeks stuffed with food, and nodded eagerly. His chuckle echoed softly in the cozy space, a sound that made your heart flutter as he waved over the server to settle the tab.

After the bill was paid, you both decided to take a stroll through the nearby park before he dropped you off at home. The quiet night wrapped around you like a warm blanket, the stars twinkling overhead as you walked hand in hand. The soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet punctuated the serene atmosphere, and you felt a sense of peace envelop you.

“Y/N?” Hongjoong called softly, breaking the comfortable silence. You turned to look up at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “Hm?” you hummed in response.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze still fixed ahead. “What did Siwoo say when you ended things?” His voice was gentle, but you could sense the undercurrent of concern. You felt your lips thin into a line as memories of that difficult conversation flooded back. You couldn’t blame him for being curious—he was the one who helped you realize Siwoo was being unfaithful.

“He was upset and angry…” you replied softly, your voice steady but lacking the weight of sadness. You turned your gaze forward, lost in thought. “He tried to gaslight me, making it seem like I was leaving him over stupid reasons.” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “But once I told him I knew he was cheating, his whole demeanor shifted. He didn’t admit to it, but I could see the guilt written all over his face.”

You glanced at Hongjoong, whose expression remained thoughtful as he listened intently. “After that, I just left. I told him we were done and to not contact me again.” You stopped in your tracks, the sudden halt causing Hongjoong to turn and look at you.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, concern flickering in your eyes. He smiled reassuringly and nodded.

“I’m more than okay, baby,” he said, ruffling your hair in a playful yet endearing gesture. “But if he ever bothers you again, please let me know, okay?” His sincerity made you feel safe, and you nodded in response.

“Let’s go home. It’s getting late,” Hongjoong suggested, feeling the weight of the day begin to settle. As you resumed walking, hand in hand, a warm sense of hope filled the air between you, chasing away any lingering shadows of the past.

———

For the next month, being with Hongjoong felt like living in a dream. Each day, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moments you would share together, both in and out of the office. Despite his dominant and authoritative demeanor during work hours (and in bed), he revealed a softer side to you—a side that was attentive, caring, and incredibly endearing. Those little gestures, like the way he would brush a stray hair behind your ear or how his eyes would light up when you shared a laugh, made you feel cherished.

Your initial worries about the complexities of a relationship between worker and boss faded away. Hongjoong had a natural ability to keep his professional and personal lives separate, making it clear that he understood the boundaries of his position.

The two of you seamlessly balanced your work and personal lives, slipping effortlessly from professional colleagues to romantic partners. You’d share knowing glances during meetings and subtle touches when no one was looking. Those stolen moments turned mundane workdays into something special. Yet, it wasn’t without its slip-ups. There were instances when the chemistry between you became too overwhelming to ignore, leading you both to steal away into his office for passionate make-out sessions, and heated quickies.

Each time it happened, it felt both exhilarating and dangerous, as if you were living on the edge of a thrilling secret. The thrill of being discovered added an electric tension to those encounters, heightening the rush of intimacy that had blossomed between you.

———

“H—Hongjoong, not here~” you giggled, your voice a playful whisper as his lips brushed softly against your neck. The gentle kiss sent a flutter through you, warmth radiating from the point of contact.

“Shh,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling your skin, igniting an electric thrill that danced along your neck.

You were tucked away in one of the meeting rooms on the second floor of the building. Just moments ago, you had accompanied him to a meeting with the marketing team. The atmosphere had been charged with creativity and collaboration, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Hongjoong was in a better mood about the marketing team once he hired that new girl, everything seemed at place.

Once the last of the team members left and the door securely closed, the mood shifted entirely. Hongjoong pounced on you as soon as the coast was clear.

“Let’s be quick,” he teased, his voice low and conspiratorial. You felt your heart race as he leaned in, capturing your neck again with his wet kisses. Each touch was warm with an underlying intensity that made your pulse quicken. You leaned into him, caught off guard by the warmth and familiarity of his embrace. The world outside faded into a distant hum as you focused solely on him.

“But what if someone walks in?” you asked, a hint of laughter lacing your words, though you secretly delighted in the thrill of being together in such a private moment.

“Let them,” he replied, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His confidence was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Hongjoong swiftly lifts you onto the table and hikes up your skirt. His hands massage your soft thighs, sending a shiver down your spine.

“How about I just help my baby out for now yeah?” Hongjoong whispers on your lips before planting a gentle kiss. You’re confused at his suggestion. Help out you?

And within an instant, Hongjoong is on his knees. He leaves a kiss on your soft thighs and runs his hands over your legs.

“Try not to be loud baby.” Hongjoong hooks his finger under your panties and moves it to the side. Without hesitation, he begins to lap his tongue over your clit.

You gasp at the warm feeling of his tongue. Your hand shot towards your mouth as you try to muffle your moans. Hongjoong holds onto your thigh to keep you from squirming. His lips move skillfully on your pussy, devouring every part of you. You can feel the tip of his perfect nose rub against you, creating more pleasurable friction. The sounds of your wet cunt mixed with you trying to catch your breath makes Hongjoong grow harder in his pants.

“Cum for me baby,” Hongjoong mumbles as he encourages you while picking up his pace. Your hands instinctively moves towards his hair, pulling him closer as you move your hips against his mouth.

“F—fuck Hongjoong… I’m so close” You whisper a whine.

“Yeah? Cum on my face, baby” Hongjoong groans, lapping his tongue over and over. Hongjoong’s free hand quickly shoots up to cover your mouth, knowing your orgasm was close. Hongjoong sucks on your clit, and in an instant you come undone on his mouth. As you shake under his touch, he slurps every drop of you, making you moan muffled curses against his hand as you ride out your high.

Once you calm down, Hongjoong releases his grip on your mouth. He stands up on his feet a smirks at you. He licked his lips and wipes his mouth.

“Atta girl” He growls a chuckle. Hongjoong leans in and kisses you, giving you a direct taste of yourself, a wet string connected between your mouth and his. You moan at the lewd motive. Hongjoong quickly leans over to grab a few tissues and begins cleaning you.

“Let’s get back to work…” Hongjoong smirks at your flushed face as he pulls you off the table. You adjust your skirt and clear your throat, while Hongjoong fixes his tousled hair.

You trailed behind Hongjoong, your legs feeling slightly unsteady beneath you. The hallway was blissfully empty, allowing the two of you to slip away from the meeting room without raising any suspicions.

“Thank you for your hard work, Miss Y/N,” he said, flashing you a charming smile accompanied by a playful wink that sent your heart racing.

“My pleasure, s-sir,” you stammered, bowing your head slightly as you watched him walk away, his confident stride taking him in the opposite direction from where you were headed. You turned and made your way toward the elevator, your cheeks still flushed from the encounter.

As you waited for the elevator doors to open, you tapped your heels against the floor, adrenaline thrumming beneath your skin. When the silver doors slid apart with a soft whoosh, you stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. The elevator began its ascent, and an awkward silence enveloped you.

Suddenly, a voice broke through your thoughts. “Ah, hold the door for me, please!” You jolted, quickly extending your hand to keep the door from closing. A new familiar figure rushed in just in time—Lee Haeun, the newest addition to the marketing team.

“Thank you so much, Miss Y/N!” Haeun gasped, a bright smile spreading across her face as she caught her breath, bowing slightly.

“It’s no problem, Miss Lee,” you replied, returning her smile and clasping your hands around the clipboard you held. The elevator settled into a quiet hum, the tension from moments before gradually fading.

“Ah, I know I’m still new here…” Haeun broke the silence, turning to you with an earnest expression. “I’m just trying to get to know everyone better,” she continued, her smile warm and inviting.

“Don’t hesitate to speak to me, Haeun! I know it can be hard adjusting to a new work environment,” you encouraged, genuinely hoping to ease her transition.

“Thank you~” Haeun beamed, giving a small bow once more. “I hope, I’m not crossing any professional boundaries here, but I’m curious…” Haeun begins, you look at her piqued in interest, “Is Mr. Kim seeing anyone? I mean he’s just so young and handsome…” She sighs and smiles, “And he’s always working. So it just makes me wonder you know?” Haeun giggles, a slightly irritable ringing echoes in the elevator.

“Ah~ I’m not sure Miss Lee. I don’t know too much” You force a smile at her. She responds in an aspirated “Ahh” as she nods. Silence floods the super… slow… elevator once again.

“I’m in my last year of college, so I’m really grateful to have this job opportunity so early on even though I don’t have my degree just yet!” Haeun says unexpectedly with enthusiasm and confidence.

“Oh wow! That’s amazing. Which university do you attend?” you ask, turning towards her trying to be respectful.

“I attend the university downtown!” she replied, her enthusiasm infectious. You fought to maintain your composure at the mention of the familiar institution, annoyance swirling within you.

“Impressive! That’s a great school,” you said, managing a tight smile as you turned back to face the elevator doors.

“Yeah! My Marketing Professor, Park Siwoo, was the best,” Haeun said, a dreamy expression crossing her face as she looked down, lost in thought. Your breath caught at the name, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you cursed silently at the elevator’s sluggish pace. Why was it taking so long? The walls felt closer now, and you could almost sense the weight of memories you’ve forgotten pressing in on you.

*Ding.*

The elevator chimed softly, and Haeun turned to you, her expression bright.

“This is my floor. It was nice talking to you, Miss Y/N.” She gave a polite bow, and you instinctively mirrored her gesture, a warm smile on your face despite the lingering unease within you.

As the doors began to slide shut, you watched Haeun step out, her figure quickly disappearing into the bustling office beyond. The elevator felt suddenly empty, a cocoon of silence wrapping around you. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unwelcome thoughts that had surfaced during your conversation.

It must just be a coincidence, you told yourself firmly. After all, Park Siwoo isn’t relevant anymore—a distant echo of a time you have already forgotten. What mattered now was the present, and the happiness you had found with Hongjoong.

———

The exhibition was only a week away, and the atmosphere in the conference room buzzed with a mix of urgency and anticipation. Hongjoong stood at the front, radiating a sense of authority that commanded attention. His gaze swept across the room, ensuring each team member felt the weight of his words.

“I need everyone to be on their A game,” he said, his tone firm yet focused. “We have no room for mistakes. Each department should know their responsibilities for the next few days. If you’re unsure, consult your department manager. For serious questions, reach out to Miss Y/N—don’t come to me.” He paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of his instructions to settle in. “Understood?”

A chorus of enthusiastic “Yeses” filled the expansive hall, reverberating like a well-rehearsed symphony. You sat at the front corner, diligently taking notes and keeping track of the time, mentally organizing tasks as Hongjoong spoke.

“That is all then. You are all excused,” he concluded, nodding slightly. The room erupted into movement as colleagues rose from their seats, and you swiftly jotted down the final points before beginning to tidy the files spread across the table.

Just then, a soft, melodic voice broke through the chatter. “Ah, Mr. Kim~” You looked up to see Haeun approaching, her smile bright and inviting.

“Yes, Miss Lee?” Hongjoong responded, turning his attention to her, his demeanor shifting slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

“I know this might be last minute,” she said, leaning closer with an air of excitement. She pulled out her notebook, flipping it open to reveal her ideas. The distance between you and them felt substantial, making it difficult to hear their exchange.

As Hongjoong took the notebook from her, you noticed their fingers brush—a fleeting touch that ignited a flicker of annoyance within you. You turned your gaze away, but something compelled you to look back. Hongjoong placed the notebook on the table, his focus narrowing, clearly invested in their discussion.

Their mouths moved in animated conversation, and then Haeun giggled, her laughter ringing like a bell. Your irritation surged as she playfully brushed her hand against his arm. Hongjoong returned her smile, and your heart sank. Unconsciously, you rolled your eyes, gathering your belongings in an effort to quell the jealousy creeping into your chest.

Finally, Haeun bowed slightly, her smile lingering as she exited the room, leaving you and Hongjoong alone in the spacious conference hall. The echoes of Haeun’s laughter faded, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that settled heavily between you. Your heart raced, caught in a tangle of confusion and unspoken feelings as you tried to maintain your professionalism.

Rising from your seat, you felt a flutter of anticipation as you caught sight of Hongjoong making his way toward you. His footsteps were purposeful, echoing softly in the now-empty conference room. When he finally stopped in front of you, a spark of awe lit up his features, and he offered you a warm, gentle smile.

But instead of feeling buoyed by his gaze, a small frown creased your lips. You quickly turned your face away, an unwelcome surge of tears threatening to spill over. You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to hold them back.

“W—we should go,” you said softly, attempting to step past him. However, Hongjoong sensed your mood immediately. His hands found your shoulders, gently but firmly anchoring you in place. He let out a loud sigh, his expression morphing into a playful smirk that only deepened your frown.

Hongjoong chuckled, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, his touch warm and grounding. “Why are you pouting? Hm?” he teased, his voice light yet sincere. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the floor, the weight of your emotions making it hard to speak.

“Y/N, if you don’t answer me now, I won’t be able to fix it,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, yet still laced with determination. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your skin, and you felt the warmth seep through you, yet it didn’t fully chase away the storm brewing inside.

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “Haeun… has been so touchy with you…” You paused, your heart racing. “Like, every chance she gets when she sees you, she’s so close, touching your arms, giggling with that annoying voice of hers. It’s so obvious she likes you.” You mumbled the last part, just loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, but it felt like a confession that hung heavily between you.

His brow arched in amusement, a playful grin forming on his lips as he took in your words. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the hint of jealousy you couldn’t quite mask. “I’m serious, Joong… it’s not funny,” you insisted, your gaze dropping back to your feet as fresh tears threatened to spill.

“Oh baby~” Hongjoong cooed, lifting your chin with a tender touch, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Leaning closer, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, igniting a warmth that coursed through you. “You’re overthinking,” he murmured against your lips, punctuating his words with another gentle peck. “I’m all yours,” he whispered again, another soft kiss, drawing you in closer. “And…” he continued, leaning in once more, “you’re all mine…”

With that, he deepened the kiss, enveloping you in a warmth that pushed away the lingering doubts. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that moment, the connection between you both undeniable and intoxicating.

You couldn’t help that one single tear drop from your eyes as Hongjoong continued to kiss your lips. His thumb swiftly wipes the tear and smirks against your lips,

“Going to cry for me, baby?” He teases between the now heated make-out. You whimper against him and he chuckles. Finally pulling away, a bridge of saliva connects your lips,

“Fuck~ we need to stop” Hongjoong whispers, his hands still cupping your face. “C—come over tonight?” You quietly suggest. Earning a wide grin from Hongjoong.

“Naughty girl…” Hongjoong groans softly and releases his hold on you. He looks at you in awe and nods

“I’ll see you later” He winks at you and you blush, before you both make your way back up the top floor to finish up work in anticipation to make the day go by faster.

———

You stumble back into the door as Hongjoong attacks your lips. Eagerly kissing you as if he hasn’t tasted you in years.

“J—Joong let me open the door” You giggle against his lips. Your house keys jingle from your hand thats gripped by Hongjoong’s. He swiftly takes the keys away from you, mouth still on yours. He quickly unlocks the door and you are both pushed inside. Hongjoong kicks the door closed behind him and locks it.

In an instant you drop your bags and Hongjoong effortlessly lifts you off the floor. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, as you continue drowning in his kisses. He carries you to the comfort of your bedroom. Your body softly drops onto the mattress and Hongjoong interlocks with your hands above your head. He leans into your neck and takes a whiff of your scent, sending a shiver down your spine. He releases a sigh as he opens mouth to leave warm, wet kisses all over your neck. You moan at the sensation.

“Are you going to be my good girl tonight baby?” Hongjoong whispers in your ear.

“Y-yes” you whimper in response.

“Yes what?” he groans and takes your earlobe between his teeth

“Yes Hongjoong” You moan.

“I love it when you moan my name” Hongjoong says in a teasing tone. His hands release from yours and make their way to your blouse. He skillfully unbuttons your shirt and whips it open, revealing your bra covered breasts. He leans down to kiss the exposed areas. You whimper at the seemingly slow pace he’s going. You want to feel all of him already, but he’s clearly taking his time with you on purpose.

Your hands reach up towards his tie and you begin to loosen it up, earning a chuckle from Hongjoong. You finally pull the tie off his neck, and begin to work on his buttons.

“Someone’s eager?” Hongjoong smirks as he watches you hastily unbutton his black shirt and attempt to push the fabric off. Hongjoong chuckles at you and leans back to rest on his knees as he tugs the rest of his shirt off. You prop yourself up and reach towards his arms, admiring his hidden tattoo. You desperately kiss him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, making you two fall back onto the mattress.

“Don’t be a brat Y/N” Hongjoong mumbles against your lips and pulls away. He stands up, off the bed and pulls your legs to bring you towards him. He begins removing the rest of your clothes one by one leaving you only in your beige lacy panties. Hongjoong starts to unbuckle his belt, you lean up to watch him in awe. His eyes remained on yours.

Instinctively, you move forward, dropping yourself on your knees onto the floor. You rest against the side of the bed for support as Hongjoong steps towards you. He takes off his pants and grabs a hold of the back of your head. He caresses it for a brief moment before pulling you closer to his clothed dick. You open your mouth and began rubbing your face on the soft warm fabric that hugged his hard cock.

“Fuck… you’re such a dirty girl” Hongjoong hisses at the sight of you. Your hands move to pull his briefs down and his hard cock springs out. Without hesitation, you take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl a few circles with your tongue before popping your mouth off. You stick out your tongue, lick from the base of his cock and back up to his tip. Hongjoong moans at the feeling of your warm tongue. You repeat the motion a few times before taking all of him into your tiny mouth.

Both of Hongjoong’s hands grab a hold on your face. You gawk your head up and down taking him deeper at a slow but steady pace. Hongjoong can’t seem to get enough of you as he steps forward while holding onto your face, making your neck lean into the mattress. You relax a bit before Hongjoong begins to fuck your mouth. He moves his own hips at a faster pace as he fucks your mouth, head into the mattress. You moan at his sudden roughness. Your moans send a vibration through Hongjoong, making him pick up his pace. He constantly hits the back of your throat causing you to cough. Hongjoong pulls away from your messy slobbery mouth and groans in temptation.

“Up” he demands in one word, and in an instant, you’re up on your feet. Hongjoong lays down on your bed and props himself up at the headboard. He taps his lap, signaling you to ride him. Without another word, you crawl towards him on the mattress. He bites his lip at the sight of you. You straddle your legs over his lap and hold onto his shoulders.

“Put it in baby” Hongjoong softly says, getting impatient as well. You sink down onto his dick and release a loud moan. Hongjoong groans and wraps his arms around you.

“F—fuck Hongjoong~” you whimper as you take time to adjust yourself. Hongjoong’s hand carefully rubs your back as you remain still.

“Still can’t handle me yet baby?” Hongjoong chuckles and moves his hips forward.

“Ah~ Joong” you moan and hold onto him tighter. “It’s alright baby. move for me” Hongjoong whispers. Your eyes started to well up. Tears piercing the corners of your eyes.

Your hips began rocking against Hongjoong’s at a slow pace. His cock hits your g-spot over and over as you move your hips forward. Hongjoong’s hands caress your hips and tightens his grip.

“Hold onto me baby” Hongjoong whispers. You lean forward and hold onto his shoulders. He begins to thrust his hips upwards, deepening his feel into your wet pussy. You yelp at the painful pleasure.

Your tears fall from your eyes as his pace picked up.

“You feel good baby?” Hongjoong moans in your ear. “Y—yess Hongjoong” You manage to whimper out.

“Fuck you make me feel so good Y/N” Hongjoong growls and smacks your ass. You begin bouncing on his cock moving at your own pace. Your breast jiggle at each bounce, causing Hongjoong to reach towards them and take one into his mouth.

You’re a moaning mess on his cock, you feel yourself so close to coming and Hongjoong notices.

“Cum baby, don’t hold back” He groans and takes over the pace, he holds onto your waist and you scream in pleasure, your orgasm washing over you. Your tears keep flowing down and Hongjoong chuckles as your fucked out expression.

Hongjoong cups your flushed cheeks and kisses your forehead. He looks into your glossy teary eyes and smirks,

“I’m not done with you baby” He leans your bodies forward and drops you down onto the mattress.

“Turn around” He demands. You’re a panting mess as you flip over on all fours. Hongjoong pulls your ass towards his crotch and pushes your head down. You moan at the sudden movement.

He smacks your butt and grips onto to it.

“H—hongjoong~” You gasp, pushing your ass back against his body. He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Yeah baby?” He coos, fondling your ass with his hands.

“F—fuck me please” You whine into the mattress. “You want to cum again baby?” Hongjoong leans down to kiss your soft arched back. All you can do is hum in response.

“I can’t hear you” He teases, rubbing his cock on your clit. You whine at the overwhelming stimulation.

“Yes please I—I want to cum again” You moan in eagerness. Without hesitation, Hongjoong enters you, hitting your g spot with ease at this new angle.

“Want to cum on you again Joong” You whimper into the soft sheets.

“F-fuck you’re already going to make me cum baby” Hongjoong moans picking up his pace.

Hongjoong’s hand reaches over to your hair and he grips onto the soft strands. He applies a gentle pressure, pushing your face deeper into the mattress. He fucks you deeper, earning a loud yelp from you. His roughness sends a wave of pleasure through your body, your tears can’t help but keep flowing down as he fucks you senseless. You grip onto the sheets as his thrust becomes sloppier.

“Cum with me baby” Hongjoong grunts holding onto both of your hips.

“Y-yess, so close” you whimper moving your hips with his.

“F-Fuck, fuck baby” Hongjoong moans loudly at the sight of your ass bouncing against his cock. Your pussy tightens at his voice, coming on his hard dick, you hit your second orgasm.

Hongjoong quickly pulls out and pumps his shaft on your soft ass. He releases a loud grunt as his warm milky cum splatters onto your back and ass. You moan at the feeling.

“Goddamn baby” Hongjoong moans and rubs his cum all over your butt.

“H—hongjoong” you whine and shake your hips in protest. He chuckles at your gesture and playfully smacks your butt.

“I’ll clean you right now baby” Hongjoong moves off the bed and grabs a damp rag from your bathroom.

After cleaning you, Hongjoong flips you over and pulls you to his chest. He peppers your face with kisses and you giggle at the gentle feeling.

“You’re all mine baby” Hongjoong whispers kissing your forehead. Slowly you feel your eyes go heavy, your body tired out from the hot steamy session. The sound of Hongjoong’s steady breathing mixed with yours draws you both into a deep sleep, holding onto each other.

-

-

SURPRISE SURPRISE THERES A TRILOGY!

Read Part 3 Right Here 😏

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Author’s commentary: I am so so sorry for the delay on posting the sequel. I wanted to finish the Trilogy to post up right away at the same time😝. I really hope yall enjoy this. Don’t forget to to follow me for more. Feel free to scream in my comment and ask box🤭

[inumakis-boo]

May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fortune Favours the Bold

A drabble to congratulate @honeybee-reads on their college acceptance! Yay!

Character: professor!Friedrich Harding

While this is written as a one-shot with a bit of a cliffhanger, I could definitely continue this one :)

Warnings: mentions of loss, some dark undertones, but nothing too serious. As always, please be aware of these warnings and proceed with caution. Have a happy Saturday, yall.

Please reblog and comment if you read/enjoy!

You’re used to being the odd one out. Even among your peers. You expected as much when you got that acceptance, almost a decade late. 

There’s the crushing sense of intrusion as you sit among the rows of giddy coeds and naive study bugs. That same dejection follows you outside the walls of the lecture hall. You’ve all but deleted your social media. The feeds just show how much further along all your friends and family. Married, set in a career, having children. Doing all the things you feel as if you’ve missed out on. 

You’re not that old. It’s not too late. Those mantras can only do so much. You’ve never found self-affirmation very effective. 

“Midterms,” Professor Harding begins his lesson, never one for a grand introduction. “You will write three essay questions. You will have a choice of four questions, and I expect you to show comprehension. I am not looking to reread the textbook by rote.” 

He’s strict but you don’t mind. Some of these young ones need that, even if they can’t appreciate it. Nevertheless, his demeanour surprises you. It does not match his appearance. He eyes a bright, almost glittering, and despite the bloom of silver twinkling in his beard, he retains a sort of boyish affect. 

Beneath that, you sense more. Something that has him so stoic. He is clearly well-read, an expert without doubt, those three letters after his name would assure you of that, yet you sense a passivity in him. A passion barely flickering as he goes through his lessons. 

You imagine he was once like the more diligent of your classmates. Excitable at the prospect of debating ethics or the meaning of life. Tossing back Descartes or Marx in a war of naive certainty. Or you think too much. You might even be projecting your own apathy upon him. 

You take notes as he goes over a brief recap of the course so far. You know you’ll be stressing over the eight-point font of the dense textbook until you’re ready to cry. The textbook price alone was daunting, then when you opened it, your chest filled with stone. 

It isn’t your strong suit. An elective far from your major. Philosophy. It’s all semantics, all subjective. You don’t really see how you can make any sense of it. There is no right or wrong, yet you could fail this exam. 

A silence wells in the hall. All eyes go to the third row as Harding stares down it. The pall thickens as everyone watches the clueless brunette smiling at her phone and scrolling. Her thumb flicks in a rhythm. 

He swiftly shuffles down the row ahead of her and shooes away another student. The skinny and spindly nineteen year old doges the professor. Harding reaches and snatches the phone. He flings it without looking and turns away before it lands. He marches back to the centre aisle. 

“Is the essence of life endless distraction? Is it denying one’s mortality for the mindless pleasure of seeing others follow a trend? Something so inane and pointless? Dancing to the detriment of those around them. Intruding upon anothers existence so arrogantly,” he begins to rant, not so subtly in the direction of those apps that encourage only the most shallow interest. 

Several fidget uncomfortable. The girl who lost her device gets up. He turns and crosses his arms. “If you go to retrieve that, you might as well drop this course.” 

She sits back down with a harrumph. You bite down on your lip. If it was you at that age, you’d be crying. Even then, your chest is bound up in the tension. 

“Let us think of real matters,” Harding redirects. “I will put upon you an assignment. Bonus marks for those who might not be so prepared for next week. You will sit for the next hour and write for me a precis on this very simple question; ‘why are you here?’” 

Several students glance at each other. You frown. What kind of question is that? 

“Sir, uh, Doctor,” a guy in a bomber jacket dares to raise his hand, “what do you mean?” 

“This is a philosophy class,” Harding sneers. “Figure it out. Think!” He turns and charges back to the podium. He looks at the watch on his wrist. “Your time starts now.” 

✒️

You tried the library. The tables are always full and you don’t have any study buddies. You only feel more isolated trying to find a place among the sleep-addled student body. The campus cafes were little better. Too noisy. 

There’s a place closer to your apartment. A locally-owned hole-in-the-wall where the tinted windows often make it look condemned. You don’t think it’s a very good marketing tactic but you appreciate the atmosphere. 

You order a scone and coffee and claim a table in the corner. You spread out your books across the surface and muddle away at making sense of it all. Well, if you can find any in it. 

A cyclist comes in for one of the organic iced teas and a pair of older women arrive and order shortbread with lattes. They claim one of the tables outside the window. The soft hiss of the machines and the low chatter of the only two employees lulls you into your study. 

The door opens again, closing heavier than before. Soles scuff across the floor and approach the counter. 

“Dark roast,” the voice tweaks your ears as there’s a slap on the counter. 

The register opens and closes, change jingles, and coffee pours. The baristas are as friendly as ever but only receive grumbles in return. The figure drags his feet toward a table. He sways and drops into a chair, just at the table next to yours. 

He leans over the table, his elbow on the wood, and he drinks with a groan. He drains half the cup without pause. You don’t know how he isn’t scalded by the brew. 

You glance over as he holds his head. The spiral in his hair, the signet ring on his finger, the elbow patches... it can’t be him. 

You grab your own cup and sip. It’s cold. You break off a piece of the scone and nibble, resisting another peek in his direction. He drains the cup and sits up. He sighs heavily. 

You pick up your pen again. You wiggle it as you try to find your place. You copy out another philosopher’s name and make a mind map of all their thoughts. You find it easier than listing it all out. 

“There’s an E at the end of Voltaire,” the voice drawls across the space between your table. 

You glance over. It is indeed Professor Harding. His hair is not combed tidily behind his ears as always, rather dissheveled, and his eyes darkened from fatigue. He it sideways in his chair as he leans over to read our handwriting. 

“Professor,” you clear your throat. “What a coincidence--” 

“Yes, what is chance?” He tilts his hand flippantly. 

You look down and add the ‘e’ you missed. He hooks his arm over the back of the chair and slumps. He cradles his face and covers a yawn with his other fist. 

“You are in Section B. You sit far right.” He says. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Hm.” He hums and offers nothing else. 

You shift the chair closer to your table. The scent of alcohol wafts over from him, mingled with his sweat. It’s not even ten in the morning. 

“Just studying up for Tuesday,” you assure him. 

“Ah, yes,” he mutters. 

You hesitate. You’re on fire. You don’t know how to interact with him and he certainly doesn’t make it easy. 

“Professor,” you look at him again. “Are you alright?” 

He chuckles and pushes himself up, keeping himself steady with one arm on the chair, the other on the table. 

“It is kind of you to pretend. The hangover will kick in soon,” he sneers. “Though I find them more tolerable when they are gin-induced.” 

You blink at him. The flush in his cheeks, the slant of his brow, the wobble in his head. You nod. 

“Coffee,” he declares and stands. He leans but regains his composure. He struts to the counter and pays for another dark roast. The baristas exchange a look of concern but say nothing. 

He returns but does not resume his own seat. Instead, he claims the one across from you. You sit up and watch him as he takes a shaky gulp. 

“You remind me of someone,” he says. 

You nod, still as unsure as ever. “Oh?” 

“Yes, a lovely woman...” he looks into the depths of his cup. “She is gone now.” His lips downturn. His hand lolls back and forth. He takes a deep breath. “Gone forever.” 

You’re unprepared for this. The unshakeable professor is falling apart in front of you. He wipes his nose and lifts his head. He looks at you. 

“Chance, you said.” He intones, “I ask, what do you think of fate?” 

You furrow your brow. You shrug. “I don’t... know. I think we make reasons for things that happen so that they make sense.” 

His blue eyes gleam at you. His long lashes flick and his cheek dimples.

“Ooh, very apt,” he praises with a smirk. He pauses to chug back the coffee. He coughs and lowers the empty cup. He braces the table with his free hand and lurches it as he stands. “Let us see then where chance guides us... or if fate has a hand in such a vast reality.” 

He taps the table with two fingers and twists away from. He tosses his cup in the bin as he passes. He gets to the door and peers back at you. 

“How lucky a man should be to pluck a four-leaf clover, but that he might do so twice,” he tilts his head, “could he ever hope for such fortune?” 

He swings the door open and stumbles through. His drunken words linger as you stare across the cafe. 

You slowly look at your notes. You’re even more confused than before. And nervous. If he remembers this on Tuesday, you’re not sure you have much hope of passing. 

[empressdede]

I tried y’all.

But going on twitter and even hearing him speak, I couldn’t do it. First of all not only am I a black woman, I am a Haitian woman. Do you know how ridiculed I got when his president insulted my people?!?? People barking at me at the gas station bc their president said my people were eating your regular neighborhood cats and dogs?? And Joe ass turned around and said, “One of them gave information, the other answered questions.” WHAT QUESTIONS!?!?!?? And after all that, the choice was EASY!?!?

You know how hard it is to live in my skin, comfortablely!? How hard we protested for our rights just for it to be snatched from us in a certain way? AND HOW MAJORITY OF THIS MANS POLICIES HAVE A HUGE AFFECT ON PEOPLE WHO LOOK LIKE ME? WHO LIVES THE LIFE US REGULAR JOES HAVE TO LIVE?!?!

Imagine having to go through all that and then going home saying, “Let me turn this on because it brings me comfort.” Just to find out, (which essentially, maybe thats my fault for thinking he had a difference of opinion seeing how he grew up JUST LIKE ME DAMN NEAR) just to find out that if I were to have met this man and sat at a table for conversations, this is the shit he would say? Thats the bullshit you agree with? “I don’t agree with everything but…” stfu.

Lmao yall… I CANNOT rn😂😂 I wanna fade him just to do it.

[supernova41st]

Random Adam headcanons

A/n: idk anything about piercings so sorry if I got some stuff wrong, sorry to the piercing community ig. (You guys are so cool)

Adam hates wearing clothes to bed sm

He can’t help it, he js feels too trapped with those itchy pants + sheets around him

Plus he loves feeling your skin on skin while in bed, nothing sexual, physical touch is just his favorite way of affection

“Adam can you please put on some pants on at least”

“What? You don’t like my fur?”

“No your body is just hot as fuck.”

“I know 🙄”

Your lucky he even wears underwear to bed

He has such a dad bod yall

But it grosses you out whenever he calls his body hair his “fur”

If you also hate wearing clothes to bed he’ll marry you immediately

He’d always have his cheek against your bare stomach while cuddling, making circles around your waist

Adam having piercings just makes sense to me, so while he’s resting on your stomach he’ll accidentally poke you with his sharp ones

“Ow! Adam I told you to take those off!”

“Shoot mybadmybadmybad”

He just scurries sitting up quickly screwing them off 💀

Now since he hates clothes, imagine how he feels about that mask

Every time he gets home he’s tearing that thing off because of how much it heats up his face

“Stupid fucking hot ass mask-“

“Why do you even wear that in public?”

“Because it looks badass??”

“How did you make it this far in life..”

Hates shaving.

Loves his body hair too much

Trying to get Adam to shave is like trying to get a cat to take a bath

“Adam get in the bathroom right now!”

“I DONT WANNA FUCKING SHAVE”

“sigh I’ll let you sleep naked if you do it”

“deal.”

such a good deal

His skin is so soft when he shaves it, it’s like hugging a giant marshmallow

“Babe, your body feels like a baby’s ass”

“I know, but I miss my f-”

“I swear to fuck if you say fur one more time.”

Using his wings as a blanket>>>>

Sometimes you two would just

He’d also pluck one of his feathers off to give to you, for “memories”

Pluck

“Here you g- grunt go y/n, for memories”

“Oh my god Adam you’re bleeding”

“A small price to pay for a gift”

“Adam, blood is literally all over your feathers.”

“My wings my choice, bitch.”

[we-rice-boi]

How do yall think the LADS men would react to MC being a tyrant in high-school/ college?

Warning!! Slightly suggestive? Not that much but still- idk

Edit: I just did a bit of maintenance, I don't have a beta so excuse my spelling and sentence structure, this is just my mad ramblings.

I'm working on a structured version of this prompt where I use "you" instead of "her" just to make it more gender neutral and immersive (gender neutral rep for my enby heart 😭) but ya!! See yall when I do that and enjoy!!

Id imagine MC would have a reputation for being this untouchable delinquent who'd beat up guys twice her size for the fun of it. Like the few ppl who she managed to make friends with describe her as a "retired crash out" (in my opinion that isn't true because I firmly believe that woman still has her moments now and again).

The only reason she even got into the hunter associate was because one of the recruits saw that she had a good heart, on top of her fighting skills, and thought they could shape her to use her skills to help ppl without being a vigilante. I can imagine the association burying her criminal record with some excuse about her being too young or a minor or something.

However, her nickname is still talked about to the freshman. Like it's gotten to the point where she becomes a campus legend. It could be something like the time bomb. Just something that is related to a bomb.

I also think her main target would be shirty frat boys. Gurlie is a man whores worst nightmare and the savior of brokenheartes that were a result of cheating assholes.

I think Zayne would be like "That checks out" because she was just as feral as a child. They met because she was the weird kid who scared off his bullies when they were in kindergarten. He'd just be worried about how that would've affected her condition but other than that he just shivers at the thought of what college MC would've been like....and just the slightest bit turned on.

For Rafayel I think he'd be a Lil upset that he wasn't there to witness it first hand. Like he'd be her number 1 hype man while also helping her out when she's off her guard. Although, once he starts really looking into it he gets really surprised at the shit she used to do. Like in my head when I'm imagining MC, all I can think about is Yuji from JJK when he was just lifting random heavy shit and launching it at ppl.

IDC if it's unrealistic, that shit is funny as hell and Rafayel's face when he sees the report state that you launched a full-on motorcycle at someone because he touched her ass is PRICELESS!! He's thinking "I know I hired her as my bodyguard as an excuse to get close to her but damn...maybe I made the right choice for a bodyguard in general". Also like Zayne he finds it weirdly hot how strong you are.

Sylus is like Rafayel when it comes to wishing he was there so they could be the top delinquent couple in the school. YOUR BATTLES WOULD BE LEGENDARY. He'd also be amused at how such a small body could pack such a punch.

Not like he doesn't know that firsthand when she hands his ass to him on a paper plate daily. He's not gonna be surprised, he knew how much of a crash out she was from her past life and he loves it. You can't convince me he doesn't love getting his aas beat by her- he is too smug about it! I can imagine him seeing the reports in full and letting her take the lead when it comes to a few missions. He just wants to see her relive her college days and have front-row seats to her crashing out on some goons. Of course, he'd be there for support but knows that she's got this.

I'm not too good at getting into the mind of Xavier yet but I think he'd be just as intrigued as the others and a bit worried. Like it makes sense to him now because he's seen her go toe to toe with giant wanderers without a second thought. However, like Vi from Arcane, she often blocks with her face and that's a concerning habit to have. As a warrior himself, he respects her fighting style though, and how she only fought to protect the innocent. In all, he just wants to know everything about her college life and he often finds himself comparing it to the present her. Just to see what's different and what stays the same. He still wants a demonstration of how tf she threw cars at ppl. I can see him getting so excited at her displaying her strength... and again all of them are weird as fuck so he obviously finds it Hella attractive.

Anyways thank you for reading my cringe ramblings. There goes another LADs reaction prompt to do that I can put on my list along with the others. Will I ever finish one? Tune in to find out!!

P.s. also gimme ur thoughts on what you think about the prompt.

[yourbasicqueerie]

My thoughts on passion

- stanning patti lupone has led me to places i wouldn’t even go armed with a gun

- steven sondheim really heard patti yell smth during one of those Mia Farrow moon parties and though  “oh hell yeah, her screams would be divine for fosca”.

michael cerveris just GLARING at patti lupone (my man is jealous of her cunty ass gigantic wig)

FUCK YOU STEVEN SONDHEIM AND YOUR BIGGER THAN LIFE CHARACTERS! WHY IS IT THAT EVERYTIME I START A SHOW OF YOURS I SUFFER TOGETHER WITH THE PERSONAS? ABSURD MEN WITH A GREAT UNDERSTANDING FOR FEELINGS I ADORE YOU AND YOUR AMAZING MIND

“they hear drums, we hear music,👏BE👏MY👏FRIEND👏”AHHHHHHH

the wish to not be treated as if you were special and to not be babied by others all because of your illness, something so small and trivial about you as a person, but that ends up taking over all of you until all that the others can see about is that. ohhhh i’m not felling well

WHY DID I MAKE MYSELF WHATXH PASSION IVE BEEN GOING DOWNHILL IN MY MIND FOR THE PAST HOUR, OH FOSCA MY LOVE MY HEART, PLEASE LET ME HOLD YOU AND HAVE YOU NEAR ME, UNDERSTAND THAT EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE DESPERATE FOR ANY KIND OF LOVE, TO SETTLE FOR THE LESSER IS NEVER THE CORRECT CHOICE

to obcess over somebody because they have given u the slightest ammount of affection in a setting where you once where short of invisible ohhhh fosca i see you doll

i’m no fool, i know you don’t feel the same towards me. but, one loves a dog, an animal, what can i do to get you to love me, a human being such as yourself” ??????? sondheim in kicking the doors of heaven and screaming at you

“my emotions sometimes overpower my judgement” ????? i feel called out

every single character is so deeply fucked i cannot-

fosca my roleplay queen fr, make ur fantasy mama pop off

SHE MAKING HIM WRITE A LETTER FOR HER AS HIM SAYING WHAT SHE WISHES HIM TO SAY OHHHHHH MY BABY ARGHHHGG

“poor unhappy creature” FUCK YOU I HATE THE MEN FUCK THR MEN FUCK YOU FUCK YOU SHE COULD HAVE BEEN SO HAPPY IF SHE HAD BEEN PROPERLY LOVED YOU FUCKERS YOU TERRIBKE MEN FUCK ALL OF YOU

i love foscas cousin 💕💕💕💕 he’s a good man 💕 AND I HATE THE FAKE COUNT FUCK YOU IDIOT

“loves not a constant demand, it’s a gift you bestow. love isn’t sudden surrender, it’s tender and slow, 👏it👏must👏grow👏”

“if my breast were big and full” MISS LUPONE PLEASE BE FUCKING FOR REAL, TAKE ONE GOOD LOOK DOWN YOUR SHIRT AND DARE TELL ME UR FLAT AGAIN

giorgio being torn between obcessive love, the kind where someone would kill theirselves for him and hidden love, the kind that is hushed and quiet, where you’re not someone’s first priority OHHHH IM ILL

FOSCA DIES????????????????????????

NO

NO

NO

NO

oh she’s not dead okay i though my girl was gone for a sec

“to die loved is to have lived” BANGER, AMAZING, SO CUNT, @anotherain UR TATTOING THIS SHIT ON MY FOREGHEAD

COUSIN DIES??????

the conductor sitting down like a diva and waving that piece of wood like his life depends on it, ate.

FOSCA DIED???????????????????????????????????????

NO FOSCA NO NO JO

I HATE THSI FUNERAL FUCKINGHEK FUCK ALL OF LIFE I HATE THIS MUSICAL SONDHEIM COUNT YOUR DAYS YOUR FUCKING MAN FOSCA LIVING WHEN SHE WANTED TO DIE BUT DYING WHEN SHE EANTED TO DIE HELL FUCK IM THROWING MYSELF OFF A BIUKDING

how’d yall reckon patti tastes like? she just be kissing everyone

“i’m someone to be loved, and that i learned from you” ANAHAGAHAHAHAGGAHAHAHAHAHA

i hate this musical, it made me feel too much, i’m deeply tortured by it already.

HA he’s bald, even when he is dying inside he looks funky

IT ENDS LIEK THAT????????????? SO SIMPLY))!???????? I LOVED IT

bowing to the audience as an act of gracefulness and respect, to show how the actor is thankful for true audiences presence in the way they can, and that is by putting themselves in a position of inferiority i live. there’s a gratefulness and humility in it. great. now i have a new obsession.

OH I HEAR HWO VOUVE AT THE END AWWWW SHES SO CUTEEEEEEEWEEEWWHAGAHAHHAJA bruh???? a whole ass interview right after a whole as show?!?!?! i woudeve been dead, theater really is a muscle huh

throwing her shoes down ��😭😭

at any possible moment patti will mention her sicilian blood, she is so me, at any possible moment i’ll tell ppl i’m italian

[rosietaeyongswife]

shameless | kim doyoung

AU: angst, fluff, drama, cheating au, readerxtaeyongxdoyoung SYNOPSIS: Marriage was supposed to be your dream. You were in love with Taeyong, until you came to realization that maybe he's not the one. Thankfuly, his best friends was there for you when you needed him the most. WC: 8k TW: cursing, cheating, mentions of sex AU: i do not support any kind of cheating. never. it's a pure fiction. yall i think i've improved my english lol one day i'll fix all my works because lmao yeah enjoy this pls:P

Marriage. How foolish of you to think it's going to be a dream come true. Well, everyone else stated that fact. According to them, marriage is one of the best stages of life. You've reached a certain point in life - perhaps an achievement. Too bad none of them said how much of a burden it can be.

Of course, the first few months were perfect. Dates, flowers, and affection. Isn't this what every woman craves? Kisses, gifts, and affirmations from your loved one. Those things blinded you. Only if you knew back then. Maybe then you would've left. It was your choice to ignore all the red flags. It's been a year, and it's a nightmare.

"Baby, can you do laundry?" You were running late, yet Taeyong does nothing. He could help you, at least. "I have to leave already. I showed you the other day how to do it. Will you do it for me, please?"

Taeyong was playing Call of Duty on the PS4 you've bought for him on his 27th birthday. He was focused on the game.

"Sure. I'll do it."

Without any other word, you left. Sometimes you'd like to smash that PlayStation into pieces. Taeyong does nothing around the house besides playing that damn thing.

It was a late call meeting with your work team. You couldn't focus on the words of your co-workers due to that weird gut feeling. Something deep down felt like something would go wrong. Ignoring this wasn't helping at all.

"Y/N, we want you to manage this project with Chaeyoung. Is that alright with you?" Your boss asked while you were drifting in your thoughts. "We believe your reviews and suggestions would make this successful on the market."

"Of course, I'll handle this."

"Thank you." He looked at the watch. "Okay, it's 9 p.m. We're done for today. I'm sorry we had to hold a meeting. It was a surprise to us too. You can go all home now."

Everyone left in a hurry, and so did you. The weather got worse, and it was raining. You couldn't get cold, so you called your husband. Silence. Again silence. He didn't pick up your calls. All you could do was run and pray that a bus would arrive.

"I called."

"Sorry, baby. I was too busy with the game. Look, I ranked up."

"That's amazing, but it's pouring outside, and I had to walk there by myself." You rolled your eyes at your husband's ignorance. "I'm fuckin tired. I just want to take a shower and go to sleep. Have you done the laundry like I asked you to?"

"Yes. It wasn't that hard." He laughed and turned the PS4 off. "I'm heading to sleep. Waiting for you in the bedroom."

At least he did what you had asked for. Walking in the bathroom was hopeful for you. Little did you know how much anger it would bring you.

"Taeyong! What the fuck have you done?!" Your husband was quick to run back to you. He was looking at you confusedly. "How could you ruin my white shirt for tomorrow? Why would you put red socks together with white laundry?"

"My bad. I'm sorry, honey." He looked at you with his doe eyes. "I didn't notice, sorry once again. I'll give you money to buy a new one."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" You scoffed. "I needed that shirt for work tomorrow. It's past 10p.m, what am I supposed to do? I asked you for one thing, and you managed to fuck it up."

"It's just a shirt, Y/N. You're overreacting. You can buy another one."

"It's not just about the shirt, Taeyong. You don't understand." You went next to him. "I don't have any clothes for work. Fuck."

Taeyong apologized once again and went back to the bed. He didn't really care about the fact that he ruined your shirt and left you alone past 10 pm, looking for clothes for work. He difted away to sleep while you had to hold your anger in yourself and calm down.

Your husband and you both work for the same company. You work in different departments and both of you start work at different hours. Taeyong got up and left an hour before you. As usual, you woke up to dirty dishes on the table and a cup of coffee on the counter. He didn't respect the fact that it was you who was cleaning the whole apartment.

"Look there. I guess you could've described another problem here, and we would put it together." Chaeyoung was taking notes on your words. "Do it, then send me the rest of the thing. I'll try to finish it by Friday."

"Thank you, and of course, I'm doing it."

Mark Lee was sipping on his coffee when he approached you. He was your best friend and best colleague from the company. Both of you go along pretty well.

"Someone's not in the mood today, huh?"

"Mark, please." You stopped on your way. "Don't get on my nerves today. It's not funny at all."

"Sorry, Miss Not in the Mood." He chuckled. "You slept on the wrong side, or what?"

"I slept on the right side."

"Then what happened?"

"Taeyong happened." Mentioning of your husband made your head hurt. "I asked him for one simple thing. Do laundry. That's all! Guess what." Mark was waiting for you to finally tell you the tea. "He ruined my shirt for today. I was tired, hungry, and annoyed, and on top of that, I had to find myself clothes for today."

Mark could only laugh. He was aware of your husband and how clumsy he can be.

"How did he even do it?"

"He put red socks and underwear together with white clothes. The majority of clothes were pijamas, but still. I didn't ask for much. I explained how the washing machine works about ten times!"

"Everyone makes mistakes, but your husband is crossing the line, Y/N. I'd be mad too. Yesterday was a horrible day."

It's almost the end of the month, so everyone is worked up. Every project needs to be finished ASAP, clients are waiting and aren't patient, and on top of that, your boss is scolding you for every little mistake you've made.

"You should be thankful you don't have to deal with it."

Another day went the same way. Today was another hard day, and the only thing you wished to do was fall asleep, but it seems like you won't be able to do that.

"Honey, I missed you."

Taeyong was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Deep down, you knew what he was about.

"Not today, sorry. I had a rough day, I'm exhausted."

"C'mon. I missed you and your body so much." He began to kiss down your neck. "I want you."

Anger was boiling in your veins. It's like you're talking to a wall.

"I told you no, why don't you give up? I'm not in the mood, I had a tiring day, and you expect me to fuck?"

"Fuck, Y/N." He stopped and put his hands into his hair. "We haven't had sex in months, alright? I have my needs, I'm fuckin horny, and I want to fuck my wife. I want us to feel good, yet you're always too busy to do so."

"I fuckin told you I'm tired. You're so, so.." His gaze went upon you. "Pushy. Leave me alone."

"Great."

The last thing you've heard was a door shutting. He left, and God knows when he'll be back. Like a kid. Your husband behaves like a spoiled child. Nothing ever satisfies him, and he wants things his way. Nothing in between.

Once you've been reading about all those unhappy couples who have sex once in a while, don't talk too much, or don't even know too much about each other. They're just together because they get used to each other and are way too comfortable to let go and leave. Little did you know you were going to face the same fate.

"Fuckin hell." You rolled your eyes. Taeyong wasn't picking up your calls when it was an important matter. "Boss, can I go into the marketing department to meet my husband? It's urgent."

He didn't even look up, but he nodded. Men.

The marketing floor was only three floors higher. Of course, you've known the majority of people working there thanks to Lee Taeyong. A few employees passed and greeted you.

Johnny was sitting by his desk, probably busy with his tasks that needed to be done by today.

"Hi, Johnny." He sent you a smile. "Do you know where Taeyong is?"

"Oh, hello, Y/N. Shit. I think he might leave for a lunch break with Jaehyun and Yuta."

"He did."

The voice was familiar to you. Turning your head, you saw no one else but Kim Doyoung. Your husband's co-worker and best friend.

"Fuck. Thank you, guys."

"Something did happen?"

"I wanted to ask him to drive me to Kun's bakery. It's Jaehyun's birthday in two days, but they need me there today. I guess they couldn't find a sample?" Doyoung was looking at you with his soft eyes, while you were stressed. "Nevermind. I'll go."

"Wait." Doyoung grabbed his coat. "I'll drive you. It's no problem for me. I'm on the break anyway."

Your whole body relaxed at his words. Somehow you felt different, because Taeyong usually rejects your requests, but Doyoung? He agreed right away.

As both you and Doyoung were on your way to Kun's bakery, Taeyong called you a few times. Asshole.

"Thank you, really. You have no clue how much this matters to me. You saved my day, Doyoung."

"No worries, I mean, I'm just driving you to the bakery. It's not hard, or something."

"I fear some people wouldn't agree." Doyoung glanced at you for a second. "Nevermind. Thank you, again. I bet Taeyong doesn't even remember we booked a cake at Kun's."

Both of you laughed at your remark. Doyoung was aware of how clumsy and nonresponsible his best friend can be.

"It wouldn't be Taeyong if he didn't forget about such a thing. But hey, look at you. You're about to solve a problem with Kun and come back to work, and you didn't need Taeyong's help."

"Wow, I'm so independent now. Not like you drove me there, at all."

Kim Doyoung was a year younger than Taeyong. Both of them have known each other since high school. Then they applied to the same business school where you met Taeyong. Both of them graduated and found a job at Lee Sooman's company. Like you did. Doyoung was different than Taeyong. He was clean, tidy, and he could cook. Everyone could depend on him when needed. He never let any of your friends down. Never. If you needed help, you should've called Doyoung. He was stylish and looked like an old-money guy. None of your friends, nor you, have seen him date. He probably had a few girlfriends, but they weren't serious, as you guessed.

"Well, I can pay you for-"

"Y/N, please." He stopped you mid-sentence. "Don't pay me at all. I had a great time picking a cake with you."

"Me too, Doyoung. Again, you're wonderful."

Taeyong was looking at you through the window of his office. He was calling you for an hour, and he had no response from you. He was a bit worried, but as he saw you with Doyoung.. He was relaxed.

Mark was smiling from ear to ear. He saw you coming into the building with Doyoung from the marketing department.

"What were you doing with Kim Doyoung?" He was moving his eyebrows in a funny way. "He's cool, right?"

"I had an emergency at Kun's bakery, yet my lovely husband wasn't picking up my calls." Mark scoffed. "He gave me a ride, and yes, he's a cool guy."

"Jaehyun's birthday, right?" You nodded. "I bought him a watch, and what about you and Taeyong?"

"I don't know. I was supposed to buy a cake, Taeyong is going to buy a gift. Please, I wish he had already done that."

Jaehyun's birthday is always a party at his house. He invites a whole friend group on the weekend, and makes a dinner. Everyone is drinking and having fun together. It was supposed to be an amazing day, but only if your husband didn't ruin it the day before.

"What do you mean you forgot?" Taeyong was stressed too. He knew he was meant to do something, but he had no idea what exactly. "Taeyong, you promised me you're going to buy him a gift!"

"Fuck, I forgot! Couldn't you do it? I'm busy with work, so it wouldn't hurt, Y/N."

"Are you kidding me?" You put on your coat. "I'm also working, I'm cleaning and cooking, I ordered the cake for Jaehyun's birthday, and both of us agreed that you're going to buy a gift!"

Every favor you're asking Taeyong for, ends in the same way every, fuckin, time. You can never depend on him.

"I help you too! Don't make me look like I'm some kind of lazy jerk. I simply forgot, things happen, okay."

"And what are we going to do? Are we going to show up with a cake for his 27th birthday and say sorry, but Taeyong fucked up once again?" The sarcasm in your tone was noticeable, and your husband wasn't a fan of it. "Do you even know what he likes?" Taeyong couldn't answer as he had no thoughts. "I knew it. God."

"Where are you going? It's past 8pm, and it's freezing outside?"

"None of your business. Clean after dinner. That's the last thing I'm asking you to do."

Cold February nights like this make you wonder about your life. Lately, both you and Taeyong have been fighting. You couldn't even remember when the last time both of you exchanged "I love yous". Are your friend's marriages the same? Do they fight a lot? Do they fight every day? Do they overcome it? To you, it seems like an endless circle.

Luck was with you tonight, because the old vinyl shop was open until 9. You made it on time to buy a jazz vinyl record for Jaehyun. He was a huge fan, everyone knew it, except Taeyong.

"That's a hundred dollas, mam."

The last shop you're going to visit is one owned by Haechan's uncle, who sells prestigious wines from all around the world. It was just a few blocks away.

As you were looking for a wine thatJaehyun hasn't tried yet, you've noticed familiar sillhouete.

"Doyoung?"

"Y/N?" He turned back with a gummy smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Emergency. Again."

"Mark mentioned that Taeyong was supposed to buy a gift, right?" He was visibly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"Key word 'supposed'."

For the first time ever, Doyoung felt bad for you. He always thought that you're a couple goals. Back in the day, you couldn't shut up about Taeyong. Either of you, were talking about each other, still in love. Taeyong never complained, nor did you. To be honest, every single one of your friends thinks you and Taeyong live your dream lives. Only Mark knew it was total opposite.

"I mean, maybe he was tired? Everyone works hard these days, people tend to forget things at times."

"Doyoung, please." You laughed sacristically. "I agree, but Taeyong always forgets about something. Doesn't matter if he's tired, or not."

For the time being, Doyoung had no explanation, nor could he defend his friend.

After a few minutes, Doyoung helped you pick a wine and took you home. It was another time he saved you. He was kind enough to drive you home.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N."

"See you too." As you were about to go into the building, you turned around. "Again, thank you."

Taeyong was asleep in the living room with a TV on. Typical of him. You looked over, and once again, Lee Taeyong disappointed you. The dishes were in the sink, not washed. You put the gifts down and did the dishes yourself.

Morning was a tense one. Neither of you speaks to yourself. The only thing you said was that you're going to pick up the cake by 5 pm. It was Saturday, and both you and your husband had a free day. Taeyong was probably waiting for you to make a lunch or something, but it wasn't your plan. You made yourself some waffles and ate them by yourself.

"Where's some for me?"

"Don't you have hands? Do it yourself."

He was looking at you in disbelief. Taeyong was used to you cooking and serving him food.

"Why are you bitching? I've already apologized. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'm not bitching. I just made lunch for myself." He was getting annoyed with you. "It seems like I'm some kind of housewife to you. I'm not. Learn to do things yourself."

By 5pm, both of you were getting ready. It's been a long time since both of you went together somewhere. Taeyong stopped asking you on dates long time ago. Of course, you missed those silly dates. Your husband doesn't put effort in.

Taeyong was waiting for you in the car, while you put everything into a bag. One last look into the mirror, and you were looking pretty. In your eyes, everything seems fine.

"What are you wearing?" Taeyong almost burst laughing. "Honey, go change yourself, I don't think you look the best in such a dress."

For a moment, you felt stupid. Your own husband laughed at your look, even though you thought you looked great. A knee high, black dress and boots with a coat. Everyone was wearing that. It was a cute look.

"What do you even mean?"

"It's not made for you, I guess? I don't know, I just want to help you to not get emberrased."

"Oh, fuck you, Taeyong."

There was no time for changing, besides, you felt cute. A month ago, you would've run into the apartment to change but not today. You tried to ingore peaks Taeyong took. He hurt you. You thought you could ignore it, but as soon as you arrived, your self esteem was six fit under.

"Hey guys! Wow, Y/N, you look stuning!" Jaehyun welcomed you with a kiss on the cheek. "Suit yourselfs."

Jaehyun complimented you, but inside of your head there were Taeyong's words.

In the living room, everyone was waiting until Haechan would arrive with his fiance, Jimin. Johnny was sipping on a coffee with Sooyoung. Taeil was taking photos with his wife, Joohyun. Yuta, Jungwoo and Jaehyun were making food. Mark was laughing with his girlfriend, Soyeon. Doyoung was looking at you and Taeyong, when both of you arrived. Doyoung couldn't stop himself from looking at you. This dress complimented your body and your bueaty the best.

"Everyone let's drink. It's our Jaehyun's birthday." Johnny stood up with a glass of champagne in his left hand. "I can't believe you're already 27. We're all happy to be here and celebrate with you, dude."

The party was going great, everyone had fun, and none of the guests seem to be annoyed, or not having fun. Taeyong found himself sitting with Yuta playing games and drinking beer.

"Men are like children." Joohyun sat down next to you on the coach. "I can't believe they're almost in their 30s."

"Don't tell me that. Look at them, they're playing on the PlayStation as if they were teenage boys."

"At least we can have some time to ourselfes."

Joohyun was right. She was with Taeil since freshman year of the college. She was three years older than Moon Taeil and she was one of your closest female friends. Everyone looks up to her, since she was the oldest one in the friend group.

"Can I ask you something?" Joohyun looked at you waiting for your question. "Do you fight with Taeil often?"

"Hell yes! We fought in the morning because he didn't clean the bathroom like I asked him to."

"Did he do it after you had scolded him?"

"Of course. What kind of question is that?" She laughed at you, but you were dead serious. "Wait. Doesn't Taeyong do the same? You know, if you scold a man, then he's kind of irritated, but do it anyway out of respect for you."

"He doesn't. You see, I asked him to do something. I show him how to do things properly, so he won't have to need my help. I explain it like I'm speaking to a child. I do it about ten times per chore." You giggled at yourself. "Guess what. He doesn't do it. No matter how much I ask for, he either forgets, or doesn't do it at all."

Joohyun, for the first time ever since she has met you, felt bad for you. For the first time ever, Taeyong doubted her.

"I have no idea what to say, Y/N. It's not supposed to be like that. You're a duo after all."

"I don't think we're a duo, Joohyun."

For the rest of the night, Taeyong didn't give you attention, which you were thankful for. He got on your nerves enough. He was hanging out with his homeboys, enjoying himself, not worrying about you. In his mind, both of you have a perfect life. You are happy together, and you're madly in love. Maybe love is starting to be a too strong word for your feelings towards that man.

"Are you fine, Y/N?"

Doyoung smiled at you when you were sipping on a lemonade made by Johnny and Mark.

"I'm just tired after work and all this shit. And you? Are you fine?"

"It could be worse." He chuckled. "I see Taeyong isn't with you."

"Thank God. He's busy playing games."

"Still. I haven't seen you talking yet."

"We had a small fight before."

A reminder of that situation from before made you self conscious again. Your husband's words aren't supposed to make you feel the way they do.

"Was it serious or?"

"Not really. It was about my outfit, so nothing extreme."

"What do you mean by your outfit? You look stunning, I swear to God."

"Doyoung, can you be honest with him? We've known each other for almost ten years. We're friends." The man was busy thinking about what might come next out of your mouth. "Do I look bad? Be honest. Do I look worse than before? I don't know, am I not taking care of myself?"

It was a question directed at Doyoung because he was a person from a friend group that you've known for the longest. Actually, it was Doyoung who introduced you and Taeyong to each other. He knew him from high school, and he met you during the same classes at the business school. Kim Doyoung was a lovely nerd. Interested in Star Wars, books, and business. He used to collect plushies, he even gave you some of them. You always have wondered how Doyoung's world crushed with Taeyong's. Lee Taeyong was a popular jerk, interested in tattoos, rock, and trouble. For quite some time, you had a small crush on Doyoung. But then, you met Taeyong, and you fell head over heels over him.

"I don't see the point of this question. Isn't it obvious? Many guys from the department have a crush on you. I saw multiple strangers turn their necks when you passed by. You've always been pretty, Y/N."

"Now I feel better. Thank you, Doyie."

He was looking at you, once again, with his soft eyes. Sometimes, he wonders why you work him up so much.

"No problem. Remember, you're that girl. Don't let anyone say otherwise."

As you were about to respond, Taeyong showed up. He was drunk, and he could barely stand on his legs.

"Did you just call my wife pretty?"

"I did. We're friends, though. It's not that deep, Taeyong."

"I don't know, maybe you want to do something with her?" He was approaching you and Doyoung. Embarrassment fed your whole body as he got closer. "I don't like the way you talk to her."

"What's your fuckin problem, dude? I complimented her, since no one else bothers to do so. Like her husband, for example. Get it together, man."

You wish you could be gone for a second. Taeyong was drunk, and he had no clue what was going on.

"Shut the fuck up, Doyoung. You don't know shit."

"Calm down. You're wasted as fuck."

Everything that came after is now the past. The next thing you knew was Taeyong punching Doyoung straight into his nose. Blood was dripping on his shirt, and guys tried to grab him. You were shocked, and all you could do was scream at your husband. He was never that aggressive towards someone.

Jaehyun and Yuta were holding Taeyong, while Johnny and Haechan held Doyoung. Both males were calling each other names, while you wanted to disappear. Everyone was stunned. They had no idea such a storm was coming tonight. Best friends fighting over nothing.

"I'm leaving."

You got up, took your purse and coat, and left. Sooyoung called after you, but you were done for tonight. There was nothing you could do with your stupid husband. Leaving seemed like a good option.

"Get in." After a five-minute walk, a black Mercedes parked by your side. It wasn't your husband, though. "I won't let you go alone on a cold, dark night. Get in."

"You don't have to, Doyoung. I really -"

"I won't repeat myself."

Even after such a fucked up night, Doyoung had to be the one to take you home, not your husband. Does he even love you?

A week passed by, and nothing has changed. Both you and Taeyong would only see each other in the morning. Not even a simple "Hi" was exchanged. He was too embarrassed after what happened at Jaehyun's birthday.

"Y/N, we would love to move you a bit higher." Lee Sooman, your boss spoke to you. "We found your results to be the best out of the whole company. I want to promote you to a higher position and move you to the International Marketing department. Are you in?"

It was the day that would change your life the most. Working schedule was tighter, and you had to spend more hours weekly in the company. Chaeyoung was moved into the marketing department, so she was working with Taeyong. Everyone in the new floor was a stranger to you. These days, it's hard to find friends. Especially from work. Mark would always pass by your floor to say hello, though.

"Can I talk to Y/N?" Yuta's voice echoed through the office of the international marketing floor. "It's urgent and we need her. I'm from the Japanese unit."

Na Jaemin, your new co-worker, asked you to come. With a smile on, you saw Yuta waiting for you.

"What do you need, Yuta?"

"Are you the one who is in charge of France and Italy's orders?" You nodded at his words. "Well, I think that someone messed up and their orders came to Japan, and Japan's order came to France. Can you check it out with me?"

Both of you came to your desk and typed out the information about the order. Someone from the delivery unit must have mistaken the orders, that would have cost millions of dollars.

"I think you should call the international shipping floor, there's Seulgi. She may know what to do before the boss finds out."

When you were on your way back, Chaeyoung stopped you. She was smiling a bit.

"Can you help us, Y/N?"

It turns out that marketing and international marketing are supposed to make an ad together. You were picked as a person from the international floor, and Doyoung was picked from marketing.

"I'm glad I'm working with you, Doyoung."

"Me too. I would cry, if I had to work with Jeno or Xiaojun. They're a bit weird."

"I don't blame you." You laughed when you opened your laptop. "I think we should start today, and it would take about a week for us to finish. What's the theme of the ad?"

Doyoung took a look at his papers and then answered you.

"Youth. Progression. Victory."

"How the fuck are we supposed to do it?" In your head, you saw how much of a struggle this ad would be. "Any ideas?"

The time went by so fast, none of you noticed it was past 8 pm. Both of you got to work to make the best project you could ever do. Doyoung was a smart guy, and he knew exactly what to put in an ad to make it interesting.

While both of you were working, Taeyong didn't call you at all. You were supposed to be at home at 6, yet he didn't even care. He's probably still mad at you because of the fight.

"I'll drop you at home." Doyoung put his coat on, and looked at you to check if you're ready. "C'mon, Y/N."

"I feel bad. You're doing too much for me, Doyoung." It was truth, Doyoung didn't mind but to you it was wrong. Taeyong is supposed to help you, not his best friend. "Let me call Taeyong, he would pick me up."

"Waiting for his response, then."

It's ben almost 30 seconds and he didn't pick up. Another call. And another. Nothing. He wasn't going to pick up your calls tonight.

"I'm sorry. It's going to be the last time you're dropping me at home. For real."

Doyoung didn't answer but rather smiled at you. It was cute how much you didn't want to depend on him, but you did anyway.

Both of you were in a car talking about the details of the project when suddenly your stomach made a noise.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Lunch. Sandwiches."

"Y/N, it was at 1. It's 8. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Another noise came from your stomach. "Okay, maybe a little."

"We're going to eat something. I'm hungry too."

When you were about to protest, Doyoung shushed you a bit. He parked by a restaurant next to the company. Both of you ordered the same thing and enjoyed the meal together inside.

"How much am I supposed to pay you back? I wasn't looking at the price."

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"Doyoung, I can't-"

"I said it's fine." He laughed. "Enjoy your meal and stop being so annoying."

It was the first time since you could've remembered when you were in a restaurant. The last time you were in a restaurant was with Taeyong on your birthday a few months ago. You couldn't explain why, but you felt the warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Doyoung, I really want to thank you for everything you're doing for me." He stopped eating and focused on your words. "I have shitty time with my husband, work is getting on my nerves, and you're too nice to me'' It felt as almost you were crying. "You have no idea how much it does mean to me."

"Y/N, stop. I do it, and I'm not complaining at all. I like to spend time together, and it's not your fault that Taeyong is such an asshole. I wish he was a better husband. You deserve someone who will love you unconditionally."

After that, your evening got better. Doyoung took you on a small car trip around Seoul. He showed you some streets you hadn't seen before. Deep down, he knew you didn't want to come back home as soon as possible. He parked for a minute by the Han River.

"It's an amazing place. I feel like I'm 17 again, me and my friends go on trips here to follow our crushes from school."

"I did the same thing with boys. Me, Yuta, and Taeyong with Jonny would be here every day after classes because of Taeyong." He was laughing at himself. "Because of him and Kang Seulgi, we were here every day for hours. He wanted to look at her and ask her out. It never worked though, because she left for some time, then we were in business school, and he was dating you."

Kang Seulgi? Seulgi from the delivery department? From you company? Taeyong had crush on her? Suddenly you felt lightheaded, your vision became blurry, and tears appeared on you eyes. You had to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

"I've never heard about Taeyong and Seulgi? Why?"

"Fuck. I wasn't supposed to tell you then." It was an accident. Doyoung believed you were aware of Taeyong's first love. "I shouldn't tell you. Sorry, Y/N."

"It's too late, can you tell me more?"

"I shouldn't. I already have said too much."

"Doyoung, please. Taeyong never told me about Seulgi. I had no idea about another girl."

You felt hurt a bit, not because you were jealous. You were hurt because Taeyong was probably lying to you for these years. Was he in love with a girl that got away? That's why he doesn't care. You're not the one Lee Taeyong loves.

"They were seeing each other for months. He always had a thing for her. She rejected him a few times because she was supposed to move to Daegu for some time." Doyoung was looking far ahead, he didn't dare to spare you a look. "Seulgi left, he was depressed for weeks, then I met you. I introduced both of you to each other." Boy, how much does he regret that. "He was focused on you, then Seulgi came back. I guess they tried to talk, but he was dating you already."

"Now it all makes sense to me. Fuckin asshole." You weren't even hurt anymore. It seems like all the feelings for Lee Taeyong are gone. Even hate. "We've been together for the past 8 years. I've focused on him. I was like a maid! He was never there for me when I needed him the most, but I forgave him. I always did. I did this all to find out he was never truly in love with me. Bullshit." A sarcasstic laugh left your mouth while Doyoung was observing you. "Why would you ever introduce him to me? I would've dodged the bullet, Doyie. I wish you didn't."

Doyoung felt guilty, even though he shouldn't. In his eyes, Taeyong was a good man. He was sure his friend was treating you like a princess.

"Sorry, I felt he would be a good party for you. I don't know. But you can't say he doesn't love you. You don't know that."

"I think we both know that."

Awkward silence occurred between you.

"Listen, I do believe you deserve better. Don't mind him, maybe one day he will see what he has lost. Look at you, Y/N. You can't get such an asshole like him to make you feel bad. I love him, he's my best friend, but you're my friend too. I wish you would be happier."

His words were true and meaningful. Doyoung was right. You deserve better than that. In the heat of a moment, you turned your head towards him and kissed him.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't, I don't know what I was thinking-"

He stopped you with a kiss. Much stronger kiss. It was like your mouths knew each other well. As if they were missing pieces together. It's been a long time since you've been kissed.

Best friends don't kiss each other's partners, and a wife doesn't kiss her husband's best friend. That was the truth. It's been a few days, and it was awkward between you and Doyoung. Taeyong apologized to you, and he tried to be a better man for you. Somehow, you felt a bit guilty because you were married, but honestly? You wished to wake up to Doyoung every day instead of Taeyong.

"I made you breakfast."

Taeyong got into the bedroom with a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.

"Thank you."

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" You popped your eyebrow. "I've done breakfast for you for the past 8 years, give me a break already. It's the bare minimum, Taeyong."

"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. Okay?"

It's too late to fix things now. Breakfast in bed won't fix the damage that has already been done to you. Deep down, you wanted to feel guilty, but you just couldn't.

In the company, everyone was busy. It's April. One of the busiest months for the company. You had hopes of passing by Doyoung. Your project got accepted, whichh made your comapany's saels higher. Mark would drop by to talk shit about your co-workers. Johnny bought you a coffee, and Sooyoung called to go shopping with you. Everything should go fine.

About 7 pm, when the company was almost empty, you saw a well known to you figure. He was putting his things together, probably about to leave the building.

"Can we talk? Like adults, please? Ignoring each other won't turn back time, Doyoung."

"It's not the best time for this conversation, the building is about to close down."

"Then let's talk somewhere else. Even at the stupid bench in the park."

He took a second to rethink his life decisions.

"Let's talk at mine."

After 15 minutes, both of you arrived at Doyoung's apartment. It was located in the center of Seoul. It was maybe the fourth time you've ever been there.

"I know it's bad and awkward. I'm married to your best friend, and we kissed each other, making out even." You chuckled because of your nerves. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I guess. Sorry. But please, let's talk. I kinda miss you." He looked at you, a bit shocked. "As friends, of course."

"Well, I really want to say I regret kissing you. Really." He was pacing around the living room. "But it would be a lie. Honestly? I enjoyed it, and I would do it again, and again, and again. I don't give a fuck about Taeyong now."

His statement made you blush. He was confident in himself and sure of what he was saying.

"Fuck, me too. I know how wrong it is, but I can't help myself."

Nothing else needed to be said. Doyoung dropped everything he had held. He was kissing you like a starved man. As if he hadn't been able to see you for ages. It's a forbidden romance, and you're enjoying it.

Next thing you knew was you being in his bedroom. He was slowly kissing you down your neck, while his hands were taking off your clothes. Everything felt magical.

"Can I?" He asked with hungry eyes, his fingers on the hem of your pants. "Please?"

"Please."

It was the best sex you've ever had. Taeyong usually didn't pay you much attention. He wanted to cum and he could care less if you did. Doyoung paid attention to you, and only you. He was focused on making you feel good. He loved your body and moans you left out your mouth.

"You're amazing. I wish it was me who dated you back then." Doyoung was holding you in a spoon. His fingers were circling your shoulder. "I like you."

"I like you too."

Since then, it has become a routine for you. Taeyong wasn't suspicious of anything. He was busy working with Seulgi. He couldn't lie, but he preferred to stay at the company until late hours to finish tasks with her. He thought you were having fun with Joohyun or Sooyoung. You and Taeyong barely talk to each other, but none of you seem to mind. This marriage was meant to fail from the beginning.

"Y/N." Mark touched your shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"What were you doing at Doyoung's apartment last night? I was there to drop him off his laptop, but I saw you coming in."

This question made your heart drop. Romance between you and Doyoung was supposed to be a secret until you'd be responsible enough to divorce Taeyong.

"We're friends? And co-workers? I was doing research with him." You giggled. "What are you even thinking of?"

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He was a bit embarrassed. "You wouldn't do anything harmful to Taeyong. I thought you were doing something weird with Doyoung."

"Mark, please. How could you think about it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you talk in weeks. He's always around Seulgi, you're meeting with Doyoung a lot, and both of you leave at different hours." He was a bit confused. "Are you guys fine?"

"Yes, we are fine, Mark. Don't worry too much."

The thought of being almost caught scared you. Your friends wouldn't understand you. They would blame you for cheating on your lovely, hardworking, and amazing husband. Especially, if you're cheating on him with his best friend. You were lonely, and you lost feelings for Taeyong long ago, he himself probably had lost them first, a long time ago.

"I know." Joohyun's word made you stressed. "Taeyong called asking about you. I covered for you every single time. You're cheating on him, right?"

It was supposed to be a chill meeting at your apartment with a coffee and cake. Joohyun loved you as if you were her sister.

"Before we go any further, don't judge me, please." You couldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm ashamed of myself, but I think that's how it was meant to be. You don't understand how it is to be with Taeyong. How is it to be unloved and ignored."

"Y/N, I'm not judging you at all. Me and Johnny support you. At first, Johnny was furious, and he couldn't believe it." She chuckled. "I guess, me too. I wasn't ready. But look at this. After Taeyong? I really admire you, and how you were able to move on with life.

"I know I'm the worst person on earth because of that. I'm ashamed to face him and tell him I want a divorce."

"Well, it's not a surprise. It's a tough topic. Let me ask you another question. Is it Doyoung?"

"How do you know?"

"It's obvious. Every time we've been gathering together, he could never take his eyes off of you."

After that, Joohyun and Johnny promised you to keep a secret. They didn't support cheating, but they couldn't blame you. Everyone thought you were living a great life with Taeyong, only to turn out it was the total opposite.

"I'll divorce him."

Doyoung was sitting on the chair on his balcony with you on his lap. He was finishing his glass of wine. As soon as he heard that, his eyes met yours.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you into anything." He said, slowly carrasing your back. "I fear that Taeyong won't forgive us. I may lose my best friend."

"At first, I thought the exact same thing." You kissed his cheek. "But now, I completely hate this guy. I lost my femininity, myself, and energy because of him. I can't look at him, because all I see is how much he hurt me and me cheating on him."

"I'm here. I'm going to support you no matter what."

Both you and Doyoung told your friends you needed to go on a trip to Jeju. You had the time of your life there. Taeyong was texting you once in a while. Doyoung made your life interesting. He gave you something Taeyong could never.

Dark nigths going on a walks on the beach. Singing songs in a karaoke bar or in your room. Doing stupid teenagers shit. Life with Doyoung was different. You felt loved.

Joohyun invited everyone from the friend group to a BBQ. It was a usual Friday. Mark was in charge of drinks with Jungwoo. Johnny was in charge of the music. Taeyong was busy with his phone, while you and Doyoung cut fruits like Joohyun asked you to.

It should be a peaceful night. Only if Seulgi didn't show up. After she came, the atmosphere tensed. Jaehyun felt uncomfortable, so did Yuta and Taeil. You tried to ignore it, but Seulgi was all on Taeyong. In public. In front of everyone's eyes.

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know. Joohyun probably invited her." Doyoung sipped on his drink. "That's wild."

"It is. That's why I hate him. Look how shameless he is."

After some time, everyone was busy with something. Some were dancing, and some were singing old hits. You were on the coach, looking at your friends having fun.

"How are you, Y/N?" Jaehyun and Jungwoo sat down on both sides of you. "We saw you're sitting like a potato here."

"I'm not drunk enough to go up and dance."

"Then drink more!" Jungwoo handed you another drink. "We're having fun tonight!"

"Exactly. You can't be depressed or something."

They were right. Soon after, you had almost five different drinks, most of them being mixed with vodka. You were dancing with the girls, then with Yuta and Doyoung. You really had a lot of fun. Until Taeyong turned the music off.

"Everyone! Can I take a second of your time?" Everyone was confused. Your heartbeat was faster, and your hands started to sweat. "I'd like to share the wonderful news with you!" He was drunk. Drunk like on Jaehyun's birthday. It means trouble. "I don't know if any of you are aware of me and Y/N. My lovely wife."

You were quick to stand up and grab Taeyong.

"Let's go. Get yourself together you're embarrassing me."

"Let me go." He got out of your hold. "As you know, we've been married for 8 years! That's a long period, right? Well, I think someone might get bored of one another."

"Taeyong, please. Stop it."

Tears came into your eyes quickly. Everyone witnessing the scene was confused. Joohyun was fast to send Johnny to get Taeyong somewhere else.

"Johnny, leave me alone! I'd like to share something with you! Our lovely, sweet, and faithful Y/N is a cheating bitch! That's right!" He was laughing devilishly, while you were on a verge of a breakdown. "Isn't it crazy? We all think about her as of an angel. Look at her. She's not all that."

"I don't think you should do it, man." Jaehyun tried to get Taeyong's attention, but he wasn't listening.

"I should. My wife is fucking my best friend, and I should stay quiet? No way! Tell us, Y/N, how long have you been fuckin Doyoung?"

People left gasps. They all turned their heads towards you. Johnny and Joohyun felt anger. He should never done this to you in a public.

"Let her go, man. I'm not kidding." Doyoung stood up and pushed Taeyong. "Are you crazy? Did you forget about fuckin Seulgi? You're not saint after all."

It felt like a nightmare. Everything was going so fast, and you could only stand there shocked.

"I was faithful to her for the longest time ever! And look how did she pay me back."

"Don't be funny, Taeyong." You managed to say it, while wiping the tears away. "How can you do this to me? After what I've done to you. I never told anyone how much of a burden living with you was! Not even once! I was there with you when I was doing every chore for you! Every little thing you needed! I let you fuck me when I wasn't in the mood, because I cared about you!" You were screaming on top of your lungs. "Y'all can judge me. You can throw names at me, I don't care! I've never been happier. None of you understand what I went through."

Your friends were in shock. They never would guess what was coming. You and Taeyong fighting in the Johnny's backyard with a people around. All the dirty things you've ever done were mentioned.

"Don't act like a victim."

"Am I not? You were using me for everything. I lost my will to live, Taeyong. You're a selfish motherfucker, who had never loved me. You've been in love with Seulgi since the beginning. You lied to me, ruined my life and I wasted all those years."

"I want a divorce."

"Me too. I hate you, Taeyong."

With that, all your group friends were confused. Joohyun, Johnny, and Doyoung gave you support. Taeil and Sooyoung reached out to you too. Mark,Haechan, Yuta and Jungwoo were confused about what to do. Jaehyun had no idea what to think, until Johnny changed his mind. They were uncomfortable with everything that'd been said that day.

Taeyong blocked your number, packed your things, and threw you out of your shared apartment. You had no choice but to move in with Doyoung.

"I love you, Y/N. I think I always did."

"I wish I had married you first." Both of you chuckled on the way to the court. "Imagine what we would have done in these years. I'm grateful we have so much to explore about each other."

Doyoung never let you down, or doubted you, or your trust. He gave you loved, you were craving for. He was a missing puzzle to your life. He helped you understand yourself, and improve yourself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lee, oficially you've been divorced. Mrs. Y/N, succesfuly, you dropped Lee from your last name. I wish both of you happines on a new life's path."

It would be the end of the chapter titled Taeyong, now you're beinning a new one with your true love.

[ed3lsgard]

tell me why you love helena so much!!! and what you hope for her arc in season three or like specific tropes / scenes incl. romance!!!

such a simple yet complex question, like i can literally talk about her for hours. oh boy this is probably gonna be long af sorry beforehand, hope yall gaf 😭

ugh god she’s just so. fascinating and tragic. a character that has been introduced to us as an antagonist, shrouded in so much mystery. but as we find out more of about her in s2, you just see how tragic of a character she is. born and raised in a cult revolving around her own ancestor, raised to be the perfect off-spring, always expected to be obedient and willing. but she is never enough, especially to her father who doesn’t even love her and probably never did. like, helena’s entire life is a performance, and act. everything is dictated by lumon and “kier”, she barely has any agency or power in her family’s company, let alone her own life (and both of those things are very enmeshed). the pressure of everything, how she is expected to act and say, you can feel the physical weight of it on her shoulders imo.

which is why it’s not surprising that she got so fixated on mark, the only person in her life who has shown her (and another version of her, aka helly) genuine love and affection. she would naturally want to chase that feeling, to see what it’s like firsthand.

and then there is her relationship with helly. helly, her innie who she deemed as subhuman and not a real person (though imo it’s arguable if this is her actual genuine belief or just something that has been drilled into her / something she is expected to believe). only to then find out helly is perhaps the most human and real part of her. because helly is helena, she came from helena. helly is everything helena lacks and suppresses. helly has the fire, the confidence, the kindness that comes easily. people that she can call her family, people that she loves. helena doesn’t have any of that, she is all alone. helly is who helena used to be before the fight and spark in her got snuffed out. who helena might have turned out to be, if she had a different upbringing. helly is the physical manifestation of helena’s desire to escape, of how trapped she really feels. i said this before but it’s really not a coincidence that it’s helena’s innie that ended up being so inherently rebellious and defiant.

helly ironically has more freedom and agency down at the severed floor than helena does in her entire life. helly does and says whatever she wants, and faces the consequences (punishment) head on if she has to. it doesn’t break her will. and they won’t actually do anything to her, because she is helena and that fact alone grants her some power down there. bearing the eagan name doesn’t actually grant helena much, not within the company anyway. like when helena said she didn’t want to back down after woe’s hollow, she wasn’t even granted a choice and was sent down regardless. i doubt helena is actually in on the testing floor / dark stuff lumon does. i think she knows about it but she is not in a position to actually have a say or do anything. she has an illusion of power within the company. but it’s fake, just enough to keep her sated.

a detail i wanna add. when helena was posing as helly, she learned about their plans and gemma. mark later on claimed that lumon knows what they’re doing because helena told them everything, but when mark eventually got to the testing floor they were surprised to see him. there was no backup, no one expecting such a plan etc. if helena had told lumon everything, surely it wouldn’t have been so easy for mark to sneak in? like this small fact alone adds a whole new layer to helena’s character imo. because it implies that she didn’t actually rat them out, that she cares.

as for my hopes and predictions for her in s3, i do genuinely think she will have a much bigger role. we’ll see much more of her, she may even be one of the main characters. i think it’s pretty obvious that helena is being set up for a redemption arc, since her and helly are starting to align with each other. helena doesn’t have the will to actually break away from lumon yet, but if she got the push she needed i think she will (a betrayal?). that push of course, being mark and probably also helly. there is some sort of natural reintegration happening / will happen, as alluded to by britt lower. so i think this is gonna be a significant event for her character (and helly too) in s3.

also regarding romance, i think we all know something is gonna happen between her and mark scout lol. zufu laid the groundwork, now it’s a matter of time until they meet each other again.

[bl00dlight]

It couldn’t be more clear Helaena asks Aemond about the price he pays not because she’s mad he burned her husband (her reaction to Aegon’s return is flat and uncaring, they have never displayed any affection towards each other) but because she is serving as his conscience here. His lack of response is a clear answer, but we are supposed to understand she is playing the role of the audience and asking this to him. Not for herself or Aegon or even Alicent. But if they admit that they have to admit there is no canon relationship between Helaegon

Holy shit BALLSSSS THANK YOU! It's like I'm constantly shaking my head going? What show are yall watching?

Also Ewan has discussed this scene recently and confirmed that yea, Helaena is asking Aemond about himself. It has nothing to do with anyone's suffering but what is about to occur to him? Aemond subconsciously knows that the choice he is making is to basically destroy the idea of him as an 'honourable' man. Something which we've seen him strive for not because he IS honourable but because he wants the validation he feels be might get from it. Ewan has said that Aemond is in need of love, comfort and attention, to be seen, to be respected and validated. He knows he isn't going to get that from his mother via playing the role of the dutiful son, so what does he do? Fuck it all then. Fuck my brother, fuck the Madame, fuck Alicent, fuck everyone and everything who will make me weaker/hurts me/doesn't see me, I want the throne and I will get it no matter the price to myself.

Ewan talks about Aemond and Helaena being on the outside which is why they share an affinity. That they have been sidelined for Aegon. Aemond who is dealing with the fact he has been tormented by Aegon, disfigured and has also been dutiful his entire life; is proactive in proving himself superior to his brother; thus he happily takes the opportunity to seize the throne because he feels he is owed it. He doesn't need to reconcile with hurting Aegon, he wants to hurt him. He is reconciling and accepting what he is going to lose by doing this.

Thus why it's Helaena who even asks him this, because she is the only one who has a similar trauma to Aemond. She is looking at him throw everything to the wind and is going "Is the cost of the throne worth what you will lose?" And it's a neutral question for her, but yes she is tensed/stressed because she is watching Aemond drive himself into darkness. Again, Alicent the whole episode has been saying "My son is becoming a fucking sociopath, why is no one doing anything?"

THATS what Helaena is alluding to. The price of the throne is Aemond's own soul.

Helaena has been martially raped, used as a broodmare, ignored by her family, dismissed and invalidated/ made to feel deluded - retreats within herself, is highly observant of other people, experiences premonitions of the future/experiences the past, present and future all at once, which is completely overwhelming and has no understanding of the things she sees until they HAPPEN; warns others of it/gives illusions to it. She warned them of Meleys. She warned Aegon of B&C and now she warns Aemond of the price he will pay. Which happens in S1 where she LITERALLY SAYS "HE'LL HAVE TO CLOSE AN EYE" in order to claim Vhagar. That was the price he paid - and Aemond pays it. She is doing it again, warning him of what he will lose. Because why would she ask him "Was it worth hurting Aegon?" When the answer is obviously... yes... not only does Helaena not care about Aegon, she knows Aemond fucken hates him and actively sought out to kill him? So why would she ask him if the throne is worth killing Aegon, when the answer is yes because Aemond literally happily attempted to kill him already? She knows Aemond is willing to do it. She is questioning the sacrifice of his morality. Not if the wellbeing of Aegon is worth it?

She is warning Aemond of his own future, she is absolutely serving as his own consciousness in a way, asking if this will all be worth what he is going to lose in the process. And for Aemond, just like his eye - he is going to accept the price for the throne. To be in charge, to get what he feels is owed, since he knows he can't get it any other way.

Mfs are so insistent on characterisation between Helaena and Aegon which just is not there because they can't fathom the idea that their ship is based on the fact that Aegon and Helaena is not a relationship which exists beyond two ships passing in the night. That's literally it. Helaena and Aemond have had more memorable moments of connection and they've not even exchanged more than one line of dialogue in the entire series to one another.

[krewekreep]

How He Would Really Be (or) Baby Daddy Red Flags

I might also name this Baby Daddy Red Flags 😂😭 I don’t know

Actually this is gonna be a lil fun text post series that’s slightly fan fic but moreso a Drabble that’s acknowledges our collective delusion. It comes from a tumblr experience I had I’ll elaborate on and link later:

First Off: Alucard (Hellsing / Hellsing Ultimate)

He’s an OG baby daddy tbh (I’m black I know I’m using og wrong, it’s been butchered beyond redemption. Oh well. 😭) he’s truly part of my “damn this type is not good for me in real life.” (LMAOAOAO)

I love yall but alucard (hellsing) is so overtly and dangerously yandare (one of my main men so im not judging) but I am amused by coding to him to be “mean to everyone but me” if he in character grew that true of a bond with you. 1. You’re never going outside or out of his site like actually 2. You could do whatever you want INSIDE but like don’t try to leave 😭 3. You’re literally never gonna be independent again like fuck him just eavesdropping all the time he’s gonna be lurching over you so bad your back is to his chest every other step 😭

I can absolutely see him getting “mad” at you when his affection INEVITABLY gets overwhelming. I could see Alucard wanting to dress you, bathe you, and while it can seem hot that’s pretty…👀 he also would absolutely put you in a situation you think he won’t save you from but does. Likewise any public outing requires hand holding the entire time. Don’t worry he’s strong enough to maneuver you as he needs but I get annoyed when men just use their strength randomly with me 😭 not negative but like okay big boy wtf 😂

He’d throw you to the wolves and have you likely in some real ass traumatizing fake dangerous scenarios to save you and make you that much more dependent on him. This is literally Vlad the Impaler (for those who watched Ultimate, plus that form is genuinely so fucking hot omfg.) he lowkey did this to Sera mind you 😭 he literally will let Anderson scare the fuck out of you cause they’ll both have the hidden agenda of mutual amusement (like their literally bros if they stopped being intolerant of each other LMAOAOA)

That is a man of overreaction, self indulgence, self righteousness, and performance…have fun. 😀

Again…you think he gonna let you have any freedom? Your choices will be faux independent my loves. You’re his and I imagine (me @ 12 Jesus I needed another baptism) you likely wanna be his 😭 but yeah girl all men are burdens he’ll just be a really parental, controlling one. Plus he old as hell and will likely wanna lecture your young mortal ways like ew shut up grandpa. Only way out is linking up with Sera and Integra. Sera will sneak you out and have safe fun with and Integra will be sure to demand Alucard leave you both alone. You’ll be supported and protected but def link up with the girlies to keep him in check.

(This actually literally amuses me so much and feels very sex in the city for no reason lmaoo) + who else is actually gonna be the worst to be with? (Gojo, all tea all shade)

[zafill]

DEMON  SLAYER PT.3 

note: this is very short, im sorry but i have been really busy! school and stuff. but if yall want me to contiune, just say it in the comments!! Love you guys!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A few months had passed since that harrowing night, and life within the Demon Slayer Corps had shifted for (Y/N). Her hands, once so integral to her strength and skill as a Hashira, were now numb, the nerves damaged beyond repair by the boiling water she had poured over them. The once vibrant warrior was now a shadow of herself, burdened by the consequences of her actions. 

The physical pain had subsided, replaced by a persistent numbness that served as a constant reminder of her despair. Yet, it was the emotional pain that weighed most heavily on her, a crushing sense of guilt and isolation that refused to let go. The Corps had granted her a leave of absence, a "break" they called it, though it felt more like an exile. She was no longer fighting on the front lines, no longer training with the others, no longer a part of the life she had once known. 

The days blurred together in a monotonous routine of rest and reflection. She spent her time in solitude, avoiding the others as much as possible. The once proud and fierce Hashira now found herself in a place of deep introspection, haunted by the choices she had made and the impact they had on her future. 

Despite the break, (Y/N) was not completely alone. Kagaya visited her often, his presence a constant reminder that she was still part of the Ubuyashiki family, despite her self-imposed isolation. His visits were quiet and gentle, filled with words of comfort and understanding, though they did little to ease the ache in her heart. 

"You're still needed," Kagaya had told her during one of his visits. "The Corps is not complete without you, (Y/N). But you must heal, both physically and emotionally. Take this time to find your strength again, in whatever form it may take." 

But even with his encouragement, (Y/N) struggled to find her place. Her hands, once so skilled with a sword, were now clumsy and unresponsive. The numbness made it impossible to feel the hilt of a blade, to grasp it with the strength and precision that had once defined her as a Hashira. The thought of returning to the battlefield seemed impossible, a dream that had been shattered the moment she had let that boiling water sear her skin. 

Dinner with the Ubuyashiki family had become an event filled with a mixture of comfort and quiet tension for (Y/N). The warmth of being surrounded by those who cared for her was undeniable, but it was also a painful reminder of the role she could no longer fulfill. The once skilled and formidable warrior now felt awkward and out of place, her hands betraying her in even the simplest of tasks. 

As they sat around the table, the younger siblings chatted cheerfully, their innocent laughter a soothing balm to the otherwise heavy atmosphere. Kagaya and Amane exchanged gentle smiles, their presence a calming influence over the household. Despite the love and acceptance that filled the room, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at her. 

“Big sister,” her younger brothers piped up, his voice full of trust and affection, “can you fill my cup with water, please?” 

(Y/N) nodded, forcing a smile as she reached for the jug. The simple request should have been easy to fulfill, something she had done countless times before without a second thought. But as she wrapped her numb fingers around the handle, the weight of the jug felt foreign and unstable in her grip. 

She tried to pour the water, her movements careful and deliberate, but her hands trembled uncontrollably. The numbness made it impossible to gauge the weight properly or to feel the coolness of the water against her skin. The liquid splashed over the rim of the cup, spilling across the table and onto her brother’s lap. 

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone at the table froze, watching the water pool and drip off the edge. (Y/N)’s heart sank, a wave of embarrassment and frustration crashing over her. She quickly withdrew her hands, staring at them with a mix of anger and despair. 

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice shaky as she struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t mean to…” 

But before she could finish, her younger brother reached out, grabbing her hand with his small, warm fingers. “It’s okay, big sister,” he said with a reassuring smile. “It was just an accident. Don’t worry about it.” 

His words were meant to comfort, but they only deepened the ache in her chest. (Y/N) felt the weight of her failure even more acutely in that moment—her inability to perform even the simplest tasks, the loss of the strength and control she had once taken for granted. 

Kagaya, who had been quietly observing the exchange, reached over and gently placed his hand on hers. His touch was calm, his expression filled with understanding. “(Y/N), it’s alright,” he said softly. (Y/N) forced a smile and nodded in response to Kagaya’s comforting words, but the tightness in her chest didn’t ease.  

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her, their concern like a heavy cloak she couldn’t shake off. 

“I… I think I need some air,” she said, excusing herself from the table. “I’ll be back in a little while.” 

Without waiting for a response, she stood and quietly slipped out of the room, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth she had just left behind. She walked aimlessly at first, letting the breeze wash over her as she tried to clear her mind. Her feet eventually led her to a familiar path, one that wound its way through the trees to the training grounds where she had once spent countless hours honing her skills. 

The sight of the open space brought a flood of memories, both comforting and painful. She remembered the days when her body moved with precision and strength, every swing of her blade confident and powerful. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now, she stood on the same ground, but everything felt different. 

Drawn by a deep, almost desperate need to reconnect with that part of herself, (Y/N) approached the weapon rack where a row of bamboo practice swords stood. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out and grasping one of the swords. The wood was smooth and familiar in her grip, but the connection she once felt was gone. Her hands, still numb and weak, struggled to hold it properly. 

Stepping into the center of the training area, (Y/N) assumed a basic stance, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She tried to recall the movements that had once come so easily, but as she swung the sword, it felt clumsy and uncoordinated. The blade sliced through the air with none of the force or precision she had once commanded. 

Frustration surged within her as she tried again, and again, each attempt more desperate than the last. But no matter how hard she tried, the sword wouldn’t obey her. Her muscles ached from the effort, and the numbness in her hands made it impossible to maintain a proper grip. The bamboo sword seemed to mock her, refusing to yield even the slightest bit of damage to the air around her. 

Panting from the exertion, (Y/N) finally stopped, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The sword hung limply at her side as she stared at the ground, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The realization that she was no longer the warrior she once was hit her with brutal clarity. As (Y/N) stood there, panting and defeated, she felt a familiar presence approaching. The sound of footsteps on the gravel was unmistakable, and when she looked up, she saw Kyojuro Rengoku standing at the edge of the training grounds, his usual bright smile replaced with a concerned frown. 

"(Y/N)," Rengoku called out gently, taking a few cautious steps toward her. "I saw you leave the house. Are you alright?" 

She stiffened at his words, her anger flaring up before she could control it. The last thing she wanted was pity, especially from someone like Rengoku, who always seemed so strong, so unbreakable. His concern felt like salt in the wound, a reminder of everything she had lost. 

"I'm fine," she snapped, her voice harsher than she intended. "I don't need you or anyone else checking up on me. Just leave me alone." 

Rengoku halted, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm not here to judge you or to pity you, (Y/N). I just—" 

"I said leave me alone!" she interrupted, her tone edged with bitterness. The anger bubbling up inside her was uncontrollable, born from the frustration of her helplessness and the fear that she was truly lost. "You think you understand, Rengoku? You don't. None of you do. You've all got your strength, your purpose. I have nothing!" 

Rengoku's expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes only fueled her anger further. She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her, like she was some fragile thing in need of protection. It was a far cry from the respect she had once commanded as a fellow Hashira. 

"You're wrong," Rengoku said calmly, though his voice held a firm resolve. "You are more than your sword, (Y/N). You’re still needed, still valued. You don’t have to carry this burden alone." 

But (Y/N) couldn't hear him. Her mind was too clouded with pain and resentment. "Stop pretending like you care!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "You're just like the others. You see me as a failure, as someone who doesn’t belong anymore. I’m just a burden to all of you!" 

Rengoku's eyes widened, and he took a step closer, but she recoiled, backing away from him as if his presence alone was too much to bear. "You don’t know what it’s like," she continued, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. "To lose everything that ever mattered, to be left with nothing but scars and broken dreams." 

Rengoku remained silent, his face a mix of sorrow and understanding. He didn't argue or try to refute her words. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a silent support, but to (Y/N), it felt like another reminder of how far she had fallen. 

"I don't need you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don’t need any of you." Before she could take another step back, Rengoku moved swiftly and without hesitation, wrapping his strong arms around (Y/N). The warmth of his embrace was unexpected, and for a moment, she froze, stunned by the sudden contact. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek, a stark contrast to the storm raging within her. 

“I’m here, (Y/N),” Rengoku whispered, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

The walls she had built around herself, brick by brick, began to crumble. All the pain, anger, and fear she had kept buried deep within her erupted to the surface. The numbness in her hands, the frustration of her helplessness, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came crashing down like a tidal wave. 

Before she could stop herself, she broke down, her body trembling as the sobs she had tried so hard to suppress finally escaped her. She clung to Rengoku, her fingers gripping the fabric of his haori as if he were the only thing keeping her from drowning in her sorrow. 

Tears streamed down her face, soaking into Rengoku’s shoulder as he held her tightly, offering the support she had so desperately needed but had been too afraid to ask for. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of comfort. He simply held her, letting her release all the pain she had been carrying for so long. 

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, (Y/N) allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let someone else shoulder the weight of her grief. And in Rengoku’s arms, she found a small glimmer of solace amidst the darkness that had consumed her. 

Rengoku continued to hold her, his embrace unwavering as she sobbed into his shoulder. His hands moved gently, one softly patting her back in a rhythmic, soothing motion, while the other cradled the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words ever could. 

He understood that she needed this moment to let go, to release the pent-up anguish that had been tearing her apart from the inside. There was no rush, no urgency to pull away or to speak. Rengoku knew that sometimes, the most profound comfort came from simply being present, from offering silent support in the face of overwhelming pain. 

As (Y/N) continued to cry, her sobs gradually began to quiet, her body still trembling but slowly calming under the steady reassurance of his touch. Rengoku didn’t move, didn’t break the embrace, allowing her to take all the time she needed to find her way back from the edge of despair.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @imagineshazamlokimight @mlobski @nousija @i-hate-most-insects @fatkish @thefantasticlemon

[theepisceswriter]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓 — Gojo Satoru

♡ Synopsis: You and Gojo go together real bad and he loves spoiling you.

♡ A/N: MUVA IS BACK !!! This is my Renaissance moments (crickets cause nobody probably remembers who I am nmplpw). After lying to y'all like my daddy and saying I'm gon come back every summer, I finally returned with a lil sumn sweet for yall and who else to signify coming back after a long time than Gojo? I hope y'all enjoy and I did good, feedback appreciated since this is basically me dusting off lmao. Love you!!

♡ WC: 1.6k

♡ TW: not proofread, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, penetrative sex, intimacy, 18+, and I believe that's really it lmk if I missed anything.

“Gojo?”

His ears instantly picked up on the soft sweet soundwave that was your voice, vital to his ears like bees are to flowers. The quietness and tenderness of your voice alone is enough to provoke that primate instinct in him to protect, provide, and nurture. From his relaxed position on the bed, he’s quick to toss the phone that previously had his attention on the dresser and divert his eyes in your direction to give you his undivided attention.

And trust that when his gaze finally fell on you that’s exactly what you had; his undivided attention.

“Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He cheekily grinned, head tilting to the side.

Your nude body that leaned against the bathroom frame was clad in a brown fur coat and nothing else but the precious jewels and gold that adorned your neck, wrists, and fingers. All courtesy of him, of course and you couldn’t be more thankful to have a man like Gojo in your life; One who spoiled, protected, and loved you like his life would end and become a waste if you left it. The love between the two of you was genuine and pure. You brought him out of a dark place mentally and he saved you from your humble beginnings. Without each other you’d both be lost and you guys knew that. Which is why everyday you showered each other in affection and love so neither of you would forget what this union meant to you.

“It’s the new one you bought a couple of days ago, do you like it?” Your fingernail lingered between your teeth as your eyes met his piercing gaze, his usual hue a shade darker as he drank you up in all your glory. You were so perfect just the way you were that you didn’t even need lingerie to catch his attention. How he hit the jackpot with you he has no idea, but he thanks himself everyday for every single choice that led to this moment.

“No.”

“No?” Soon you’re mirroring him, the same cheeky grin and head tilt occupying you too.

“I fucking love it.” He reiterates, motioning with his head for you to come to him.

You comply quickly as ever, gliding to his side in seconds giggles leaving your mouth in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap with both of his large calloused hands in the crevices that separated your hips from your thighs. You can feel his erection forming and pulsating against the thin fabric of his grey sweats. Which in turn pulsates against your bare clit the moment you’re settled on his lap. The small gasp that leaves your lips at the sensation leaves him almost in a drunken dazed, the effects you had on this man were far more powerful than any sorcery anybody could conjure up.

His love for you ran deep, but any lighthearted playful feeling that filled the room was now replaced with a thick yearning for lust. So close and passionate that you could quite literally feel the physical manifestation of your desire for each other in the form of an addicting body heat. Just as he was in a daze-like state over you, you were equally lusting after him. That’s what made this relationship so raw and lasting; everyday feels like the honeymoon stage when you’re both putting in the same effort.

“You drive me crazy you have no idea,” He muttered as he trailed his hands along your curves, his eyes following along closely watching the way your skin dimpled underneath his touch. He didn’t mind spending his family’s hard earned fortune on you if it meant he got moments like these, he’d go broke over you if he could just to show how devoted he was to you. 

“I think I have somewhat of an idea,” Your arms found solace around his neck which you then used as leverage to pull him closer to you. The motion caused the fur coat to fall beneath your shoulders exposing your breast to him in the most teasing peeks that brought him to a rock hard state. You made sure to tease him even further by pressing your chest as close as possible to him as you leaned in to steal a kiss, the cold metallic jewelry in your nipples touching his every other movement sending electricity through his chest.

His lips engulfed yours with a ferocity so high that he nearly had half of your chin in his mouth as well and you made sure to return that energy just as strong, swallowing his lips right back. You didn’t even realize you had begun to swirl your hips down on his erection until you felt the vibration of a deep guttural groan on Gojo’s end reverb against your lips.

God, you could stay like this for hours, days even, but there was nothing you wanted more in this moment then to have him deep inside of you. And there was nothing he wanted to do more in this moment then please the both of you.

“Gojo, I want you so bad, baby,” You were able to huff out once the two of you pulled back from each other. Both of your lips swollen and red, a true testament of your passion in this moment. 

“I’ll always give you everything you want from me, love,” His words came out in a murmur because the minute his lips detached from your lips they went straight to your neck, peppering your sensitive crevice with kisses. He teased your nipples with two quick kisses before he was lifting you and his hips up to pull his erect cock out of his sweats. Which now had a dark stained patch on the crotch area courtesy of you.

“Always so nice and wet for me, this pussy knows who it belongs to huh?” Before you could even elicit a response you were cut off by a moan. He wasted no time in dragging the swollen pink tip of his dick between your slit to collect your wetness as lubricant before slipping it inside of you with ease all the way to the base.

“My god!” You gasped out loudly, your walls immediately clenched around his cock but that didn’t stop your wetness from seeping out of you; creating a damp mixture with your cream at his base.

“This cock is all yours baby, don’t belong to nobody else but you,” He could barely get his words out in between grunts, just as turned on as you, if not more. His hands returned to your hips to lead the both of you to a rhythm as you rode him and lift you up just a little bit higher than you would naturally go so he could watch his cock slip in and out of you. Call him crazy but the sight was equivalent to fine art in his eyes, it was a marvelous sight that he adored to observe; how well the two of you fit each other. He was certain, just as sure as you were, that he’d never be able to be this connected and feel this much pleasure from anyone else during sex. Every single feeling he had for you uniquely belonged to you. He would never allow anyone else to have access to him the same way you do. This was a once in a lifetime connection and neither of you wanted it to end anytime soon.

“I love you so much.” He growls out through clenched teeth. That knot in his stomach was tightening and he could tell you were close to the edge too from how much stronger your walls began to clench around him.

This had to have been the type of pleasure Frank Ocean was talking about in Pink Matter, he thought.

“I-I love you- FUCK ! I love you more, Gojo.” You can barely get your breathless words out through pure bliss and pleasure. The only reason your eyes were still open was because you enjoyed watching your partner’s face twist and contort with each bounce you made. His clean and pale face now pink with lust and his signature white hair stuck against his forehead with sweat.

His hand travels to the back of your neck to connect you two for one last nasty kiss as you both creep up on your orgasms. This time tongue was involved and the kisses were bigger and sloppier than before, the two of you intoxicated with a dangerous mix of love and lust. Just the kissing alone would be enough to bring you to your orgasm quickly, but of course cocky Gojo had to collect some of the mixture of you guys’ saliva from the corner of his mouth and use it to rub your clit in circles.

“Cmon my pretty girl,” He mumbled against your lips, “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock for me, please. I need your slick covering me, please.” He practically begged.

And that was all it took for that overstimulating wave to crash over your body. A mixture of a moan and groan ripped from your lips and echoed throughout the room. Which led Gojo to join you in your high seconds later, your moans, knowing that he was producing, them doing the trick.

Immediately you fall off of him by his side and he’s quick to pull you into his side, grip tight as ever like he was scared he was going to lose you. You nuzzled into his side, neither of you caring to clean up just yet. Part of the reason being because you wanted to enjoy each others company and the other reason being because you were both very much still out of breath.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You recited in an almost sing song voice as you peppered his chest with kisses.

God bless anyone who’ll try to take him from you.

[deathsmallcaps]

I saw the live action Snow White film. I want to write a review that does not drag Rachel Zegler OR Gal Gadot’s names.

Free Palestine, I am not a fan of Gal Gadot’s politics, but frankly a lot of the posts I am seeing inch too close to being Anti-Semitic for me to be comfortable reblogging them. She is a genuinely great actor, don’t do that stupid thing where you malign all of a person’s abilities just because they have shit politics.

And yall are just mean to Rachel Zegler. This movie was still Disney’s Snow White but adapted to more modern feminist ideals while not feeling out of place. She was right and yall need to accept that.

We ALL know that no one would drag two guys in a similar movie situation. This is not because Snow White was a Disney production, yall just feel more comfortable being assholes about women.

This was a live action Disney movie, which I get why yall wanted to avoid. But in any case, if you want to be spoiled and get what I think is a fair view of the movie, please

I enjoyed it, and it made my friend who went with me especially happy. They look similar to the cartoon Snow White and were really excited to see the movie.

It had some original songs that are going to be stuck in my head for a while. Waiting on a wish, I think, really set the tone for how this Snow White will function differently within her own story. I do think the four values her parents left her were a bit much? Four seems a little off, and I’m fond of the fairy tale number of three. But I really like how her fairness towards all (I think they even use the word equitable in the movie lmao!) affected how she appeared in her own story and in her people’s minds.

I appreciate the way they sidestepped how Snow White got her name - she either was born in a snowstorm or literally brought by it (couldn’t quite tell, maybe the point as this film is for kids) and her parents named her in it’s honor, as they had struggled with having kids.

A lot of people complained about how Rachel Zegler (RZ) Snow White (SW) sounded different than Adriana Caselotti (AC) SW. That’s not an RZ problem, that’s a casting director’s problem. RZ is a great actress (I’m still listening to her Hunger Games songs) but they hired a belter. AC was an operatic singer, especially later in life, but there’s been nearly a HUNDRED (86!!!) years between both women’s early careers. That’s a whole lot of musical history, theory, and differences in training. And they’re two different people!

RZ is great at adapting characters into her singing voice (she’s from New Jersey and sang like she was born in West Virginia!) so if she wasn’t perfectly sugary sweet that was either an ability thing that her directors felt it was worth keeping her for (she has a big name and again, genuinely a great singer!) or it was a DIRECTOR’S choice and now he’s not owning up to it. In any case, RZ is a genuine soprano and she sounded high pitched but pleasant to me!

The plot stayed somewhat true to the original, but thankfully they did not murder the Queen while busting out some seriously anti-Semitic looks. Snow White got to be kissed by her true love* but also utilized her pacifism and care for others in a way that worked within the film and made it clear it WAS her victory and her doing.

*yes, while asleep. I am not the biggest fan of that practically but from a romantic’s standpoint I enjoyed it

I think yall will also be pleased to note that once SW was out of the castle she didn’t really clean. Instead, she used good management and social skills (as befitting a ruler! Keep in mind this is a fantasy world and thus monarchy is somewhat fine, bear with me) to end the ‘magical creature’s’ period of executive dysfunction. While she still ended up managing a bunch of men, she didn’t do FOR them, she did WITH and TAUGHT them, which from a teacher’s perspective is excellent.

I must say though, Rachel Zegler looked especially thin in this movie. Im not huge on social media and only super know her from A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, but she definitely lost weight between the two and I doubt it’s just baby fat (she’s still only 23, she’s only a month younger than me). I REALLY hope that the actress is fine and it’s just me being on the lookout. I would hate to find out that she was pressured into taking Ozempic or developed bad eating habits from stress

Gal Gadot as the Queen slayed. No doubt. From how she was dressed down to her villain song*, she played it absolutely right. I loved how she glittered, I love how her crown was stained glass** (beautiful, but fake in comparison to the diamond to which she always compared herself, and fragile) and the way she held herself was excellent. I find it interesting that she was willing to kill SW only after SW tried to take the castle from her. I think she was maybe still saving SW as a potential heir or scapegoat or hostage, but once SW cornered her on the bridge it was apparently too much. Also the wall design in her throne room??? I loved it.

*I think it struck a good balance between sexy and just straight wicked, and leaned into camp a little, a direction that we have had yet to see in a lot of these modern live action Disney movies (I’ve seen most tbh, except Aladdin and the Lion Kings. I do have Will Smith’s rendition of Friend Like Me downloaded though) and which played favorably into her portrayal of the Queen. She knows she looks and sounds good, it doesnt matter to her if she IS a good person.

**I assume it’s stained glass? Maybe in movie they’d be like ‘it’s really thin rubies and diamonds dumbass, she’s that rich’ but it looked like stained glass to me.

I start getting really nitty gritty below, you have been warned.

Re: the dwarves. So I do think it’s dumb they just straight up avoided calling the dwarves anything. I don’t think their species came up once, they just clearly held the humans as a separate species. I wished they called themselves elves or looked less cgi human or something. But I do appreciate that they and the post-scary-forest scene animals all looked to be in the same art style reminiscent of the original movie. Those animals did seem more self aware and stuff - we can say that they are all magically affected by that forest lol. I loved how their house really really really looked like the original.

Also my friend caught that they were maybe magically connected to the trees? So that reminds me of the Gregory Macguire adaption of Snow White, where I think the ‘dwarves’ were literally tree spirits. The movie also changed the Heigh Ho song to an introduction song, which got on my nerves a little bit I think will appeal to the kids. Which is the point.

I really appreciate that Dopey was given dignity and an explanation for his reticence?! From a representation perspective I would’ve preferred it if he was mute or maybe had an Intellectual Disability and they played it straight? But instead he was super shy and emotionally discouraged by the other dwarves (NOT a good work and home environment tbh) and (once again from a teachers perspective) SW gave him concrete steps and reasonable goals to get him ready to talk. Kickbutt behavior. Also I like that he turned out to be the narrator (and I missed the storybook beginnings tbh)

They replaced the fly gags with little fairies which were cute. As someone who was a farmhand, and Has had bugs get all up in my space, I really cannot abide bugs, and would hate to have one inside me. But i DO think shying away from grosser things like that is kind of lame. Still, the aesthetes will probably enjoy it.

Quigg the actual person with Dwarfism was definitely … there? And named and given hobbies (crossbow) and a love interest? So I think that was a good thing. I think his dialogue was awkward - it felt like they were trying to hit some sort of verbal acknowledgment of minority reprensentation quota with consistent reference to his name and interests. But he was instrumental to the climax? So again, I think this was a win? Even if it was a squeaker (squeaked by). I don’t have dwarfism, so anyone who does, please reply!

And I think I saw another person with Dwarfism* in the ‘show the audience how poor the country is’ scene; they’re hanging out near a fire in what looked to me was an oil barrel. I know the community has a lot of mixed feelings about roles like dwarves in Snow White, and I personally think they should’ve gone that route with the casting instead of just using CGI (though the voices were pretty accurate to the original dwarves tbh) but again I don’t have dwarfism and should not be treated as an expert on the subject.

Info: depending on to whom one is speaking, preferences on Dwarf and LP may vary. But it is a general medical agreement that ‘dwarves’ are for fantasy, and ‘dwarfs’ are people. I’m sticking to Person with Dwarfism because I do not know the actors’ preferences. As an autistic person, I don’t like people first language, but I have no personal ties to the community and thus don’t want to assume the general consensus, much less the personal perspective.

They replaced the prince with a forest thief named Jonathon. I thought his intro was weak (he was like off brand Flynn Rider, and I’m not even really a tangled fan) and he got on my nerves a little bit. But his song was fun, and I didn’t realize until tonight (I saw the movie three days ago now) why I was being so mentally harsh on him: he looks like Pewdiepie to me. Once I realized that, my opinion of him softened. Good actor, I think he did well for his part.

But tbh, I found the chemistry between Dopey and SW more appealing.

The cast seemed small? That got on my nerves tbh. They literally only had 7 people (was it supposed to be a reflection of the dwarves?) in the robber band and the townspeople were few - Disney could’ve and should’ve paid for more people to make that set actually seem like a CAPITOL towns’ worth of people. Their loss.

The queen tried to get SW to break on her morals (pacifism) by handing the princess a diamond dagger and telling SW to stab her in front of the crowd, to prove she was a long lasting diamond instead of a temporary rose (an imagery thing they really tried keep being up throughout the movie). SW did not, the queen turned and told her captain’s guard (btw the huntsman is alive and very helpful and actually was really compelling I just am writing this free flow) to kill SW.

SW in turn reminded each guard of their humanity, of their duty to their people, and that they had the power to end the queen’s tyranny. They eventually all turned on the queen, who tried to get SW, but then Quigg stopped her via his crossbow.

The Queen then runs to the mirror, is devastated to find she still isn’t the FAIREST and destroys the mirror, which in turn turns her to … something dark and wispy like ash? And sucks her in. Leaving SW to rule (her dad is dead btw, the queen straight killed him when he went off to war apparently. Her mom actually survived to mid childhood for once oof). Then SW has a wedding and it’s all very happy :) (though the dancing seemed a little janky.

Crack Queen theory: okay this is silly but the dwarves said the last time they had a human in their house was 275 years ago prior to SW. it would be cool if the Queen was their daughter or something, learned magic, and then betrayed them and set off on her own for hundreds of years. I formulated this theory prior to Dopey speaking, so I also thought that maybe she had stolen his voice. In any case, no dice.

My biggest complaint for this movie is that if they had waited 14 years (long time I know but still) they could’ve released this film on the hundredth anniversary of the original’s release. I know to a lot of you diehards, that’dve been sacrilegious, but from a numbers perspective I REALLY like it.

If you want to scratch your Snow White itch but don’t want to support Disney or don’t have the funds or privacy skills for a brand new release in theatres, i highly recommend Mirror mirror. It’s funny, has great casting, and ends with a kickass Bollywood style dance party.

But if you’ve given other Disney live action films a chance, I think Snow White (2025) is worth a try.

[fallingyams]

Do y'all ever just ruminate on how insane Sherliam is

The sheer impact that this one detective has on the trajectory of William's whole life and future???????

William started out like this, seeking his own death.

Louis then goes on to admit that when a person can't see the worth in their own life, the only other thing that can ground them is someone else worth living for

AND THEN YOU SEE THAT WILLIAM IS ACTUALLY AFFECTED ENOUGH BY SHERLOCK'S WORDS TO CONSIDER (briefly) THE POSSIBILITY OF LIFE (and the problem is the scaffold that won't hold them both)

We then get William in a coma, where Billy tells us it's all up to William's choice/will on whether he wants to live

Of course then William wakes up!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS TO LIVE!!!!! SHERLOCK'S LAST WORDS TO HIM HAD IMPACT ENOUGH TO MAKE HIM CONSIDER LIFE

HE WANTS TO LIVE!!!!! FOR SHERLOCK!!!! TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Forget "I'll die for you" or "I'll commit crime for you" or even "I'll jump off a bridge for you" (sry sherlock) how about I'LL WAKE UP FROM A COMA AND LIVE FOR YOU (forever if you'll have me)

ok goodnight yalls rant over thanks for stopping by <3