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boybandbaby · 21 hours ago

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Missing You

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

word count: 2460

warnings/tags: mentions of friends with benefits, alcohol, weed, suggestive comments, angst, fluff, lmk if I missed anything

note: quickly written, not edited

“I think I’m in love with her and it’s killing me.” Steve pulls at his hair. He’s been meaning to get it cut but you keep persuading him to push his appointment back.

“Just tell her, man.” Eddie leans forward on his elbows at the counter.

“I can’t. We already said nothing serious, just casual, just two friends helping each other out.” He whines.

“I mean things change, dude. You can’t help how you feel.” Eddie pushes Steve’s chest. “And stop your whining. You’re annoying me.”

“I have to distance myself from her. I have to separate myself from our friendship in order to get over these feelings, right?” Steve looks to Eddie.

“How’s that gonna work when we literally see each other almost everyday?” Robin plops a box of rewinds onto the counter.

“I’ll just make excuses. Won’t be alone with her.” He shrugs. “You guys can help me right?”

“Yeah, no, I’m not getting involved with that. Good luck though.” Eddie laughs.

The first time Steve sees you since realizing his feelings, he’s a total dick and he knows it. A dick and a liar.

You hold onto Eddie’s shoulders as he makes his way down the basement stairs, jumping onto the floor at the last step.

You’d tossed your bag onto the floor and ran to the couch, sitting thigh to thigh with Steve. “Hey, I got you something but just now realize I left it in my bag and I’m too lazy to grab it so you’ll have to wait until your birthday.” You smile at him.

“Hey, that’s cool.” Is all he says as he turns his body away from you, joining the conversation Lucas and Dustin are having about a new video game.

You furrow your brows and scoot just a tad away from him, slumping into the couch. You’re not sure if you’re overthinking the interaction but you rack your brain for any reason Steve might be mad at you. Any way you could have upset him and made him act cold towards you but your mind comes up blank.

Robin and Eddie exchange looks of pity for you and concern for Steve’s behavior. This is why Eddie didn’t want to get involved, he doesn’t want to take part in either of his friends getting hurt. Robin on the other hand tries to help Steve take a different approach, a less asshole approach.

She sits between the two of you, nudging Steve hard with her elbow into his ribs. “Y/n, how’d your shift go? Are you liking the new job?”

Shit, your new job. You’d been so excited and Steve was supposed to take and pick you up. Instead, he’d made up an excuse that he needed to take the kids to the arcade today. Instead, Eddie had been your ride.

“It was good, made some new friends.” You shrug. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see how things develop.”

“Can you get us free stuff?” Dustin asks.

“Absolutely not, you moocher.” You roll your eyes.

“Come on, you’re no fun.” He groans.

“Im sure you’ve had plenty of fun today. Stop bugging me.” You wave him off.

“I’ve been bored at home all day.” He furrows his brows.

You briefly meet Steve’s eyes right before he flicks them down to his fingers.

“Oh, my mistake then.” You mumble.

“Hey, let’s go get something to drink, yeah?” Eddie places a hand on your shoulder. You nod and follow him up to the kitchen.

Steve watches as you leave, sighing with relief. Well as much relief as he can get knowing you just caught him in a lie.

The next time you speak to him, you call his house phone, waiting for him to pickup. When he finally does you sigh of relief.

“Hello?” He calls into the receiver.

“I was beginning to think you were going to let it go to voicemail.” He chuckles but it’s definitely forced. The line goes quiet for what seems like minutes. “Hey Steve, you still there?”

“Yeah, just waiting for you to talk.” He almost sasses.

“Oh, well, are you busy right now?” You’re taken a back at his harsh tone.

“Just a bit. Do you need something from me?”

“Well, I was going to see if you wanted to go get a milkshake then come over. I’m home alone for the night.” You offer.

“Steve, the movie is about to start. Are you ready?” You hear faintly through the other end of the receiver. A female voice, definitely not Robin.

“I’ll be right there.” You can hear even though he tries covering the phone with his hand.

“Look y/n-“

“That’s alright, Steve. I’ll see you later.” You hang up before he can respond. Steve rubs his forehead with his occupied hand before slamming the phone back onto the holder.

You took a chance calling him even though you felt he was pulling away. Now you sit feeling pathetic and replaying that voice on the other end.

You know you and Steve were friends with benefits but you’d at least hoped he would communicate that he was seeing someone. You didn’t have much time to feel sorry for yourself though.

Just two days later, you’re absolutely pissed having just found out from Mike that Steve was having a party and hadn’t invited you. How could he not invite you to his own birthday party?

Yes, you were ex friends with benefits but you were friends before all this happened. You had hoped when you both eventually ended things that you’d stay friends but it’s becoming more likely that being friends isn’t in the cards for you two.

You’re angry, hurt and at his door step. You don’t knock and you open the door to the stale smell of sweat and alcohol, weed mixed in somewhere amongst the dancing bodies and loud music.

You push your way through the crowd of people and spot him sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking a beer with girls and guys alike surrounding him.

He spots you past the several drunken heads and jumps off the counter immediately. “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

“Hey asshole, happy birthday. This is what I wanted to give you the other day.” You push the small bag into his chest. “Have fun.”

Steve holds the bag to his chest, bringing his beer to his lips to finish the bottle off.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Don’t bother, Steve. I get the message alright?” You push out into the cold air, music drifting away as you retreat from his house. “Like I said, enjoy your birthday. I hope you like the gift.”

Steve stumbles behind you, one too many beers flowing through his system. He grips onto the railings of his porch as he watches you walk off into the night.

His head is pounding from all the factors of his environment. He sinks down onto the steps of his porch, pulling the sparkly baby blue paper from the baby blue gift bag. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was a baby shower gift with how baby blue it is.

His hands dig into the depths of the bag and pull out a sleek matte black box. Discarding the gift wrapping, he opens the small box, eyes widening at the contents. A silver chain link bracelet. One he’d picked up to take a look during a day at the mall, one he didn’t even realize you’d seen him take interest in. He decided it probably wouldn’t look good on him and put it back before anyone could see it. Except you did see and now you’d gotten it for him.

Steve struggles but gets it linked around his wrist eventually, tucking it beneath his sleeves. His birthday suddenly doesn’t seem so fun anymore.

A few days later, Steve loads the cooler into the trunk with the help of Jonathan, wiping his hands on his shorts when he’s done. He shoves Max’s bag and towel into the trunk and shouts for any other items before he closes the door.

The whole gang was headed to the lake for the day, snacks and drinks loaded up into three cars. Steve, Robin, Max and El in one car, Nancy, Jonathan, Will and Mike into another and Eddie, Lucas, Dustin, and yourself (supposed to be) were in another.

“Where’s Y/n? She’s never this late.” Robin groans, the early morning heat already creeping in.

“Oh, she’s not coming. Girly problems or something.” Eddie shrugs. “Come on let’s go. I want a good spot at the lake.”

Steve and Robin exchange a look over the car hood before getting in. El and Max are already gossiping about some tv show in the back seat when they enter.

“Do you think she didn’t come because of me?” Steve turns to Robin.

“I mean what does girly problems mean? Could be her period right?” Robin shrugs.

“What are you guys talking about?” El scoots forward.

“Grown up stuff.” Steve huffs, turning to put on his seat belt. “Sit back and buckle up.”

“They’re talking about y/n and whys she’s not coming today.” Max doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “She’s going on an amusement park date with that guy Tom from work.”

“So she lied?” Steve whips his head back.

“Not sure what she told you but does it matter? It’s none of your business.” Max sasses. “and when are we leaving? The others left like 5 minutes ago.”

Steve huffs, turning the keys to start the ignition, mumbling about you doing this to get back at him.

All day he spent huffing and puffing, pissing the others off with his attitude and wallowing in his self pity.

“I mean how could she be on a date?” Steve angrily threw the rock into the lake not even bothering to try and skip the rock on the surface of the water.

“Well, like you said you two are just casual, right? No labels.” Eddie raises a brow. “You should’ve just told her how you felt, I guarantee she would feel the same.”

“She was the one who was so adamant about being friends with benefits. I’m just trying to respect her wishes.” Steve throws his hands up.

“But you’re going about it all wrong. You’re being a dick.” Eddie tosses a pebble at Steve’s back. “I mean not inviting her to your party was intentionally mean.”

“I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just easier for me to push her away rather than tell her how I feel and possibly face the rejection.” Steve sits beside Eddie. “There’s no way I could just be friends with her. It’s too hard.”

“Then don’t be just friends.” Eddie laugh. “You make it seem so hard.”

“You make it seem so easy.” Steve pushes his shoulder, knocking him over.

“It literally is. She likes you and you like her. She won’t reject you.” Eddie pushes Steve’s shoulder back, not hard enough to hurt. “Until you make a move and listen to me, I’m not discussing this anymore with you.” Eddie pushed himself up, dusts his hands off, heading for the cooler.

Steve sits alone, thinking about Eddie’s words. Was he too late? You were already on a date with that guy Tom. Was he a bad person for hoping the date went to shit? Was he an even worse person for going to your house to find out?

You roll your eyes when you take a look through the peephole.

“What do you want, Steve?” You sigh, door barely open an inch.

“So, how was your date?” His tone isn’t polite and he definitely isn’t interested in the answer.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I was just being polite.” He shrugs.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoff.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His hand comes to push the door open.

“You’ve been acting like an ass for the last couple of weeks.” You cross your arms. “I figured you were resorting back to your old ways. I mean you’re having movie nights with other girls and parties without me.”

“You jealous?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Of course, I’m jealous. We’re supposed to be a thing. Yes, an unspoken thing but a thing nonetheless. I didn’t know you were seeing other people while you were fucking me. Do you know how icky that makes me feel?” You finally relent and open the door.

“Hey, I wasn’t doing anything with anyone else while I was with you. Even after you, I didn’t kiss or have sex with anyone else. Yes, I had a date but that’s all it was. I haven’t even talked to the girl since our date. And about the party, I didn’t invite you because I knew us drinking and flirting would lead to sex.”

“And you don’t want that anymore? Why wouldn’t you just tell me instead of avoiding me and being mean?” You lean against the doorframe and cross your arms.

“I don’t want just that anymore which is why I have been pushing you away.”

“Well, that’s dumb.”

“What?” He scrunches his face and squints at you.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me you were having feelings? I would’ve told you I had feelings too.”

“Had?”

“Well, I don’t know how to feel about you anymore. I’m really mad at you.”

“What can I do to change your mind and make you like me again?” He holds his hands out for you. You take a look down at his hands.

“Nice bracelet.” You nod to his wrist.

“Thanks, a really great girl gave it to me for my birthday. I’ve been kind of an asshole to her though. Think she might hate me.” He sighs. “But I really miss her.”

“She misses you too.” You let your arms fall. “And she wasn’t on a date today by the way. Just a day at home wishing the jerk she fell in love with would come to his senses.”

“Well the jerk spent all day pissing his friends off because-“

“Okay we’ve got to stop doing this.” You laugh. “Just come here.”

Steve shakes his head, laughing to himself before he takes a few steps forward, pulling you into him. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do Mr. Harrington.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his hands coming around your waist. “We can start in the bedroom.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” He pumps his eyebrows.

“You can start by helping me go through my closet. I need to get rid of some clothes.” You pull him into the house, shutting the door behind you.

“Wait, what?”

“You didn’t think I’d give in that easily did you?”

#steve harrington x reader

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btsgirlypop · 18 hours ago

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THE CLOWNS' DOLL

Pairing - MYG & MAKNAELINE X Reader, Clown!Yoongi & Maknaelinex Innocent!Reader, Oldermen!Yoongi & Maknaeline x Youngerteen!Reader, HardDom!Yoongi & Maknaeline x Sub!Reader

Genre - Hardcore smut

TRIGGER WARNING(s) - NONCON,FORCED SEX, ROUGH SEX, ORAL SEX,OBJECT INSERTION, EXTREME DEGRADATION, HUMILIATION, POSSESIVE, CONTROLLING, POWERPLAY, CORRUPTION KINK, SPIT KINK, MANIPULATION, CHOCKING, AGEPLAY,DOMINANT/SUBMISSIVE, COERCION, MINDBREAK, GANGBANG. THIS DOES NOT REPRESENT BTS OR ITS MENTIONED MEMBERS IN ANY WAY. ALL OF YOU ARE LEGAL IN THIS.

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!!! READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

AUTHOR'S NOTE - On demand of my lovely follower, here's the maknaeline version of the clowns' doll. Also I apologize for not uploading a new one. These past few months have been rough, I've been struggling a lot and trying to do my best but sometimes it's hard to see forward.

Writing these fics, BTS and all of you have been some of the few things keeping me grounded. I'm really thankful for every reblog, message, comment, like and kind word. You've helped me more than you know.

I'll be uploading on my a03 account soon (I haven't been invited yet) until then I'll be posting here and thank you for supporting me.❤️❤️

MASTERLIST

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BLURB - It was the year 1978. Y/n had been a quiet, sheltered girl all her life—kept close, watched carefully, her world drawn within the lines her mother laid out. But on her 18th birthday, something changed. For the first time, her mother let go, just a little. She was finally free—if only for a night. Her friends didn’t hesitate. The circus had arrived in their sleepy little village, and they insisted it was the perfect way to celebrate.

And Y/n had enjoyed every moment—the lights, the music and the strange performances. After the show ended, Y/n found herself standing in line with her small group of her friends, all of them chattering excitedly as they waited to exit through the narrow path between two tents. Y/n, however, was silent as usual, soaking in the last bits of freedom before the night was over.

Then Y/n felt it—a prickling on the back of her neck. She turned.

Her gaze landed on a clown standing apart from the bustle, leaning casually against the bars of a nearby rusty cage. He was tall and a bit older than her father albeit dangerously handsome, his face obscured by the garish makeup in stark black and white, contrasted against the neon hues of his costume. As her gaze met his, the clown smirked and lifted a gloved hand in a silent wave.

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You froze – but only for a moment. Despite the unease that had settled in the pit of your stomach, you shyly smiled back at him, your naivety preventing you from truly comprehending the dark implication of his gaze.

Still smiling innocently, you turned back around —only to find the space around you unsettlingly empty. Your friends were gone. The line had moved on without you. Puzzled. You glanced around, feeling a flicker of panic beginning to rise in your chest as you realized you'd lost them. You spotted the clown—Yoongi—still observing you silently by the side tent. With no other option, you hesitantly began walking toward him to ask for help.

"Excuse me, sir?" you asked, voice still bright and cheerful. "I’m Y/n and I hate to bother you, but have you by any chance seen my friends? They were just here a second ago, but I can't seem to find them anywhere."

He looked at you up and down, taking in your petite frame and innocent face. "Your friends?" He asked again, his voice surprisingly deep for a clown. He jerked his head, gesturing towards the right side of the main tent. "They went that way."

Looking at the dark space, you felt scared and asked in a hopeful voice, “Ohh could you take me there, sir? You're so nice but my mother told me there are bad men out here. The kind who take girls and do terrible things to them.”

Yoongi’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he heard your words, his heart racing at the delicious opportunity that had just presented itself, and stepped closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry about those bad men, little girl. I won't let anyone hurt you," he murmured softly.

He took your hand, his long fingers wrapping around your smaller ones as he led you into the deeper part of the forest. You stumbled, startled by the sudden motion, but he caught you, his grip firm and steady.

“Thank you, Sir.”

As both of you ventured deeper into the woods, the circus lights faded behind you. The trees grew thicker and darker. An ominous feeling rose inside you. Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted him. Shouldn’t have followed him. You didn’t know why you kept walking. Maybe it was politeness. Maybe it was hope. But mostly, it was fear.

Suddenly, he stopped, turning to face you. His clown makeup glowed eerily in the moonlight as his painted mouth twisted into a grotesque mockery of a smile. His eyes glinted with a wild, unspoken madness as he tightened his grip around your frail wrist, making you start struggling. "You’re such a stupid girl, my cute little Y/n. Your friends aren't here...and I'm going to do exactly what your mother warned you about. But I promise I'll take good care of you.”

A wave of pure, primal terror crashed over you as his words sank in, the horrifying reality of your situation hitting you like a physical blow. Your small frame, barely reaching 5 feet tall, shook like a leaf under his towering, muscular build as he pressed you ruthlessly against the rough bark of the tree trunk.

“Please-ee” You begged, tears blurring your vision, as you stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"Shh, shh, little one..." He cooed softly, his fingers gently stroked your cheek as he pressed you harder against the tree, the bark tearing through your thin top, leaving small bloodied scratches in your bare skin. His other hand moved to cover your mouth, muffling any sound that might have escaped as he leaned in close, his painted face inches from yours, his voice kind contrasting with his cruel words. “Don’t be afraid, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle, just like I’m fucking a sweet princess. But remember you deserve whatever happens to your dumb slutty cunt. "

Your voice was trapped behind his cruel hand, the sound little more than a pathetic whimper. "I'm gonna make you fucking crave my dick, even when you'll be quivering, terrified of me. And there's nothing you can do to stop me, my sweet little girl."

You tried to make noise again, to scream for help, but it was useless. Yoongi's other hand slid down to grab your thigh with bruising force, slapping it roughly as his fingers sank into the soft flesh before he tore your mini skirt along with panties in one rough motion. "I'm going to abduct you," he growled, his sexy voice dripping with dark promise, as he rubbed your pussy aggressively, "and take you to my secret lair, and rape your tiny cunt over and over again. You'll be my personal fuck toy, my plaything to use and ruin as I see fit. I'll turn my pretty little girl into a cum-filled bitch who begs for my huge old cock. Fuck… I’m going to breed your innocent little cunnie raw like an animal. Fill it up with my dirty seed until it overflows."

He laughed darkly, amused by your pathetic attempts to resist. He removed his right hand from your mouth, and tore your top off and started squeezing and groping your small breasts roughly. "No, no, you're a bad man, leave me!!" Your voice cracked as you begged, whimpering as his fingernails digs deep into your flesh like claws.

"Bad man? Such a dirty mouth for someone so pure... Now why would you make the bad man angry?" he sneered as he continued his brutal assault, twisting, pinching and pulling your nipples hard, leaving red marks on their wake.

"Ahh! No, please don't!" Your cries grew more frantic as you tried to twist away from his painful touch.

"Shut up, you stupid bitch!" he snarled, his face contorted with rage, as he backhanded you across the cheek, making your head snap to the side. He yanked your head backwards with a tight grip on your hair, spitting a thick glob of saliva on your face as his other hand continued rubbing and pinching your clit before smearing your juices and saliva with his large hand on your face. "You don't get to refuse me, you pathetic slut. Because I own this cunt now. I can treat it like a precious treasure or beat it until it bleeds. I'll do whatever I want with you, and you'll fucking take it like the dumb virgin whore you are."

“No-o no-o!!” You cried, feeling shame at how wet you were as he violated your virgin hole.

Yoongi felt a twisted sense of pride and satisfaction as he saw you tremble, loving your body’s reaction. "Look at you, fucking virgin slut, getting wet from this" he taunted, and without warning, shoved his two fingers knuckle- deep inside your tight hole as you bent forward, screaming your lungs out. "You're just a filthy little cockwhore, aren't you? Getting turned on by an old man violating you in the fucking woods. I knew you'd be a perfect fuck toy the moment I saw you."

“Please-e! Stop-p!!” You sobbed, writhing against the tree, desperate to escape the cruel stimulation. But he just laughed evilly as he fingered you mercilessly, his thumb scratching and rubbing, chaffing your clit raw. "No, I won't stop," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Not until I've made you cum on my fingers like the desperate slutty bitch you are. Then maybe I'll give you what you really need - my big, hard cock splitting your tight little cunt open, ruining you for any other man. I’ll fuck your young pussy raw right here and leave your used fucked- up cunt bleeding. You’ll be an old man’s cumslut for the rest of your life.”

"Please, please-ee...don't"

His fingers curled inside you, rubbing against that secret spot deep within, and you could feel your climax building. Your hips jerked and shuddered toward his fingers, your pussy getting wet from this painful pleasure as you bit your lips, until you tasted blood, trying to hold back your scream.

"Mmmm....."

With a final, brutal thrust of his fingers, he sent you hurtling over the edge into a shameful, unwanted orgasm. He laughed in triumph as your wet hole clenched around him, your juices and blood soaking his fingers, dripping down your thighs and his wrist, just as he wanted. "That's it, you dirty slut. Cum for me. Show me how much you really love this." He snarled, his fingers still pumping mercilessly, wringing out every last drop of your unwanted pleasure.

As your orgasm crashed over you, your body went rigid, back arching as your jiggling breasts raised towards him. He lunged forward, biting your nipple hard, claiming you as you weakly tried to push him away, hitting his shoulders but he was immovable, holding you more tightly and shook his head, his teeth still clamped down tight on your right nipple.

“Please-e, it hurts!!” You begged, letting out a small whimper, as his movement sent bolts of pain through your tits.

Ignoring your pleas, he sucked and bit your nipples harshly, drawing blood over the rosy sensitive bud before finally releasing it with a final, sharp bite that made you yelp, only to immediately latch onto the other, giving it the same punishing treatment as you writhed and struggled beneath him.

He jerked his hand out from your abused pussy, only to knead and spank your bare ass roughly, before wiping his cum & blood soaked hand on your red bottom as you slumped forward on his arms from exhaustion. “You’re a fucking mess, you pathetic slut. Little girl so desperate for attention that you’d spread your pretty legs for a dirty old clown like me, fucking attention whore.”

He pulled your ass towards him, grinding your soaked cunt against his massive bulge straining against his pants, making your stomach churn with fear and an embarrassing arousal. He leaned down and ran his tongue up your cheek, biting it hard enough to leave a deep red teeth mark before spitting on your cheek till his mouth dries. “There you go, you weak bitch. Now, every time you’ll look in the mirror, you’re going to remember how a big bad clown broke your tiny greedy cunt and marked you as his personal cockwhore.”

Y/n looks up at him, doe eyes filled with tears, voice shaking with fear as you speak “Y-yes...”

Yoongi froze momentarily, seeing the innocent submission on your spit-laden, teary face and a slow devilish grin spread on his face. “Fuck, l love destroying pure virgin teen whores like you. Nothing better than taking a young bitch like you and ruining your tight little holes, making you my personal cock -addicted sex doll. And you know what?” he pushes you again on the rough tree trunk, trapping you like a predator under his weight “Once I'll be done with you, once I've pumped your belly full of my hot, thick cum and fucked your mind stupid, I'll send you back out into the world. I'll make you walk around, sit in class, acting like a good girl, while your cunt and throat are leaking my seed. And every time you'll be talking to those stupid boys at school, you'll be imagining them as me, forcing my big cock in your ruined little holes, desperate for me to rape your sweet cunnie again. You can’t survive out there on your own, baby doll. A pretty little thing like you, with no one to protect you. You need someone like me, sweetheart."

You moaned loudly when he pressed his face against your cheek while grinding his clothed cock on your exposed hole aggressively, "Feel that, you little cock sleeve?" he snapped, his voice rough with lust. "That's what you do to me, you tempting little minx. I'm going to fuck you so hard, rape your tight little holes until you're nothing but a drooling, cock-drunk slut. You're so tiny, baby whore, I could fuck you standing up like this..."

He grunted possessively, lifting you up by the hips with ease and threw you over his shoulder. He spanked your plump ass hard, continuously, earning a cute squeal from you. "Fuck, you're adorable...my adorable little fuckdoll"

"Please, I can't take anymore," You whimpered, voice hoarse and ragged from screaming. He began to carry you deeper into the woods, his fingers thrusting lazily inside your hole and your small body bouncing with each step as you pounded weakly against his back, which only fueled his lust.

"Should I drop you?" He threatened, knowing you're weak and vulnerable in this position and started pounding his fingers into your wet hole faster making you squirm against his tight grip.

“No-o, please…”

He laughed cruelly, "Then stop fucking hitting me!" He pulled his fingers out from your abused cunt and spanked your bottom hard before continuing to finger you mercilessly. "I'll drop you if you don't behave." He carried you like this through the forest until he finds what he's looking for.

Suddenly, he pulls out his fingers from your pussy, wiping your cum on your thighs as he dumped you onto the cold, hard dirt, leaving you momentarily stunned and flipped your naked body onto your stomach, your pale face pressed into the damp brown earth. A wicked grin spread across his painted face as he looked down at you, stripping his costume slowly as his eyes glinted with sadistic amusement, watching you trying desperately to crawl away. With a low, twisted chuckle, he reached down and grabbed your ankle in his large hand, dragging you back towards him, your naked front scraped and scratched against the rough ground as you screamed in pain and fear.

“Please-e, please-e”

He kicked your small legs, forcing you to spread them apart, leaving you shamefully vulnerable and open to his perverted gaze and before you could even think to scream, he dropped himself down on you, his weight entirely crushing your small body as he thrust inside your pussy in one brutal stroke, groaning deeply. “Fuck-k, such a tiny virgin cunt!”

He gripped your hair tightly, yanking your head back and licked your tears, as you cried out like a wounded animal. “I bet your mom has no idea her little princess is getting raped raw right now. Being used like a cheap sex doll by a man of her father’s age.” He wrapped his thick forearm around your delicate throat tightly until your face turned red, slamming his thick veiny cock inside your tender hole.

“Please... please... I can't... breathe..." You wheezed, voice barely audible as you hit and scratched his forearms, trying to free yourself. But he paid no heed to your feeble protests, still thrusting wildly inside you as his arms tightened more around your neck. Tears streamed down your cheeks and blurred your vision as you choked and gasped for air, lungs burning with the need for oxygen.

"Yes, yes, you slutty CUMWHORE!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the forest as he began to pound into you mercilessly, stretching your small hole painfully wide. You cried in agony and pleasure, while desperately struggling beneath him, legs kicking and thrashing as your bare feet dug into the dirt at a desperate attempt to gain enough leverage to wriggle out from under his dominating weight.

"SHUT UP!" He roared, covering your mouth and nose with his other hand, crushing your small body entirely under him as his massive cock tore through your insides with each thrust, your screams only seemed to inflame his sadistic lust further. "Stop fighting it, you stupid fucking bitch" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You know you fucking love this. Being used like a cheap, filthy cocksleeve, being split open on a real man's dick until you can't fucking walk straight. That's all you're good for."

"Please-e...." you begged weakly. The pain was blinding for your delicate body, the pleasure sickening and unwanted as darkness consumed you. Your limbs going limp as your head lolled to the side, as you drooled in his hands.

With a harsh, barking laugh, he pulled out harshly from your pussy and stood up, gazing with cruel amusement between your obscenely spread legs, freshly fucked virgin cunt, dripping blood with your juices as he kicked your gaping pussy. “Fucking disgusting! Your sloppy cunt is so loose now. Stinking like a cheap slut’s wet hole.” Like a ragdoll, he turned you around and spat on your red, swollen face. “Such a poor thing. I have ruined you. You’re no more an innocent little girl. Just a filthy, used cumwhore.” He bent your thighs towards your chest, nearly folding you in half before rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, and slammed his hips forward, burying himself balls-deep in your sensitive hole, making your eyes fly open in shock and pain as a strangled scream tore through your throat.

"Wake up, you useless cunt!" He slapped your cheek hard, making your head snap to the side as he punctuated his degrading words with brutal thrusts, smiling gleefully before slapping your cheeks and breasts continuously. “Pathetic tiny tits. Fuck-k… not even big enough to hold my cock. Your small tits are even more useless than your disgusting smelly pussy.”

“Please….don’t-t” You whispered, now fully awake from his rough assault, fully accepting that you were trapped, completely at his mercy and too helpless to stop whatever depraved acts he had planned next.

“Don’t cry, you dumb cockslut.” he grunted as his right hand pressed down hard on your face, forcing your cheek to grind against the rough dirt of the forest floor as you cried weakly.

His other hand raked down your body, his dirty fingers clawing from your breasts down to your bruised lower abdomen, leaving angry red welts in their wake as he ignored your soft cries of both pleasure and pain. Too focused on his own twisted pleasure, he pistoned his hard cock frantically in you, his tongue lolled out obscenely as he drooled onto your face, tits and stomach. "TAKE IT, WHORE! TAKE IT! I’m going to breed your eighteen years old immature pussy like a cheap fucking sex doll’s hole. I’ll fill you up with my clown cum until you get knocked up, make you my personal cum bucket bitch. I’ll be raping your pathetic cunt as my babies will feed from your milk-filled tits. You'll be nothing but a breeding cow with a useless mouth and a gaping hole."

With a guttural, animalistic groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside your cunt. His thick cock pulsed inside you as he released load after load of thick cum deep into your core. He kept thrusting through his orgasm, filling you completely as he calls you every degrading name he can think of.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled his softening cock from your tender flesh, and spanked hard on your sensitive abused sex, a loud cry escaping your throat. "Fuck that was a good fuck. Your tiny teen cunt can really take a pounding.” He leaned back, feeling proud at the sight of your ravaged body, splayed out before him, his cum leaking down your thighs. “Look at this hungry pussy swallowing every drop of my cum like a trashy whore's cunt. You’re just a hole now, sweetheart. No man will ever want you again.” He gloated, smirking cruelly as he pushed his two fingers inside your gaping hole, forcing his cum inside your hole more as you yelp in pain.

Suddenly, he heard a twig snap nearby and froze, the sound of footsteps approaching closer as he listened intently. He hurriedly covered your mouth, muffling your panicked whimpers, and heard someone mutter under their breath when a wicked idea crossed his mind. He looked at you with a mocking grin, clearly enjoying the frightened look on your baby face as his friends, dressed in different clown costumes, appeared in front of him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" an unfamiliar voice called out, the words dripping with mocking amusement. You whipped your head around, tear-streaked face turning towards the sound, heart stopped dead in fear at three tall men, laughing and whistling at your naked, ruined form.

"Looks like Yoongi hyung, found himself a little plaything," one of them said, his voice a sickening parody of joviality. "Fuck, she's a real keeper" another chimed in, his eyes staring at you with blatant, lewd hunger. "I can't wait to get my turn with her." As they all surround you in a circle, Yoongi leaned down, whispering closer at your covered mouth "Look at their faces, you stupid cumdump. They can't wait to ruin you, to use all your holes like a retarded cumslut you are. And you know what? I think I'm going to let them. I think you deserve to be passed around like a cheap desperate whore, to be used and fucked by every last one of them until you're nothing more than a brainless drooling mess.”

He roughly removed his hand from your mouth and tangled his fingers in your hair, gripping tight. With a sharp, brutal yank, he wrenched you upright, forcing you to kneel on the rough ground on wobbly legs before slapping your face continuously. “Now, be a good girl and open your sloppy, useless cunt and mouth for them. Maybe if you beg really nicely, I'll let them cream your nasty, slutty holes. My broken little fuckdoll."

At the same time, the other nameless clowns descended upon you like a pack of starving wolves, kneading and squeezing your small breasts, pinching, pulling your nipples cruelly and kicking her exposed cheeks with their boots. You screamed and wailed, voice raw from begging them “Please, please stop! It hurts, it hurts so much! Let me go-o please!"

Yoongi’s eyes darken as he stared at your innocent face, his grip hardened in your hair, tilting your head back at an agonizing angle as he spat in your eyes and nose before thrusting his thick, throbbing cock inside your mouth. "Shut the fuck up, you disobedient cockslut. Can’t even take a dicking like a real bitch. All you do is fucking cry and whine like a pathetic little girl. Disgusting cock- hungry whore.” You became still, in shock as he hilted himself fully inside your mouth, his thick head slamming into the back of your throat as he pushed your head down to the base of his shaft, gripping your skull tightly to keep you in place as he savored the warm, tight squeeze of your convulsing throat around his hard flesh.

"Fuck, such a good cocksucker!!My own personal cockwarmer!!!” Yoongi smirked down at you and began to ram in your mouth erratically, his heavy balls slamming against your chin, spit dripping down your chin and breasts as the other clowns started palming their cock at the sight of you chocking and gagging around his length “That's it, you filthy low-life cunt. Keep sucking like a trashy little used-up bitch. Show them what a greedy, low-life fuckwhore you are.”

The other clowns hollered and cheered him on, stroking their own dicks wildly as he fucked your throat ruthlessly "Fuck her throat raw, hyung!" “Pound that bitch's neck until she can't fucking breathe, hyung!" "Fuck that dirty cocksucking whore's throat until she fucking breaks!" “Make her choke on every fucking inch of your huge dick, hyung!"

With a feral, animalistic roar, Yoongi redoubled his efforts, slamming his hips against your face with enough force to rock your entire body as you drowned in pleasure, eyes empty and a twisted heat began to pool in your core as the brutal face-fucking pushed you to the brink of unconsciousness. "Look at her eyes, hyung, she fucking loves it! This bitch was made to be a set of cock-sucking holes!” one of the clowns, Jimin pointed at your glazed, unfocused gaze causing Yoongi to look down at your wrecked face as he groaned and pulled his cock out to cum on your face “fuck!fuck! Take my fucking load, you useless cumrag!” Yoongi pulls your tired form by your hair as he smeared his cum on your entire face with his hand, claiming and marking you as his before pushing your naked body harshly on the mucky ground. “Look at the mess you are, you nasty virgin slut. You're just a cum dumpster, a cum-guzzling fuckdoll for men like us to use. No more fucking around, you hear me? From now on, you're going to keep your holes dripping wet all the time and walk around naked so anyone can pound your cunt, ass, or mouth, anywhere they want. Do you understand, bitch?”

You replied tiredly with a faint “yes” as Yoongi stepped aside, spitting on you as the circle of his scary friends caught you, their hands grabbing at your arms, hips, tits, hauling you back up to your hands and knees. "Well, what are you guys waiting for? Get over here and show this hungry cockslut what a real clown cock feels like. Rape her cunt and ass raw until she can't fucking breathe. I want to see her broken completely, make her a messy, filthy cockwhore, pussy and asshole gaping, bleeding and leaking like a common slut. Fucking rail this loose pussy bitch until she can't fucking walk."

Losing all control, Jimin roughly hauled you up by thighs, your back pressed to his muscular chest and impales your abused cunt with his hard cock, bouncing your tiny body as he forcefully fucks you. "Fuck, she's so fucking tight, hyung. Her little cunt is gripping my cock like a fucking vice."

“Please-ee��. Please-e”

"Look at that needy fuckhole stretch out," the clown nearest to Yoongi, Jungkook shouted, stroking his big shaft in time with the relentless pounding of your pussy. "I can't wait to ruin her myself.” “Me neither" another clown, Taehyung, chimes in, his voice dripping with cruel lust. "Let's see how many of us can fucking wreck this slutty street whore before she breaks."

Yoongi laughed darkly as he reached up and kneaded your jiggling tits harshly, pulling and twisting your aching nipples before spanking your breasts and face. "Fuck yeah, let's put this empty headed whore to the test. Pass her around, bounce the fuck out of her on your dicks. I want to see you guys paint her worthless body in fucking cum until she's nothing but a walking cum puddle, drowning in our hot jizz."

Eager after hearing Yoongi’s command, Taehyung and Jungkook undressed hurriedly, watching your body getting used for their pleasure, Yoongi traced his right hand down the length of your body, pinching and slapping here and there, breasts, thighs, hips, flanks, coloring them red, smiling proudly as you get fucked with a brutal force. As you writhed in Jimin’s grasp, Yoongi pinched your puffy clit viciously between his thumb and forefinger, twisting and tugging on the flesh until a scream tears from your throat. "Look how your mother was right, you stupid cunt. You were born to be a nasty fuckhole, dumb enough to spread your horny pussy for anyone with a dick. Now c’mon whore, give us a show."

"FUCK! Please, it hurts!" you wailed, tears streaming down your soft cheeks as the intense pain radiating from your clit sent shockwaves through your entire body.

"That's it, scream for us, you cheap free use slut," he sneered, his fingers still cruelly pinching and tugging at your clit. "Let everyone hear what a fucking idiotic cockwhore you are as we rape your filthy cunnie."

Jimin tightened his hold on your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he bounced you madly. Without warning, he passed her to Taehyung, your small body dangling in air for a brief, terrifying moment before you’re slammed down onto another hard, throbbing shaft.

“Ah-hhh”

"Fuck, look at this little used-up bitch bounce on my cock," Taehyung grunted, his handsome painted face leering down at your petite frame. He started ramming his dick upwards aggressively, your heavy tits jiggling and bouncing with each thrust as you stayed limp, completely at his mercy as Yoongi watched silently with an evil smile, from the side.

All three of them took turns passing you around like a ragdoll, each one grabbing your hips and forcing your body up and down on their own huge, pulsing shafts like animals. They laughed and taunted you, their voices a chorus of cruel, degrading names and mocking jeers.

"Take it, you fucking cumwhore! Milk those fucking cocks with your slutty cunt!" Taehyung yelled, his cock throbbing inside your battered pussy as he passed you to Jungkook.

"Yeah, bounce on it, you useless whore! Show us how much you fucking love being used like a set of holes!" Jungkook snarled before passing her to Jimin.

Your mind reeled as you were passed from clown to clown, each one pounding your cunt savagely as drool dripped down your chin as you gasped, laying limp in their grasp. “Please-e, more, more-e!” you moaned, your young mind finally surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure you felt for the first time in your 18 years life.

“That's right, you nasty fucking whore. Now take my fucking seed." Jimin grinned wickedly, still slamming you roughly on his thick cock. “You're just a cum sucking hole, a dirty cum dump for men like us, princess. And now you're learning your fucking place. Fuck-k whore!” He grunted loudly as he stilled inside you, filling your worn-out pussy with his thick cum. The warm sensation triggered your own climax as your sensitive velvety wall clenched around his cock, cumming with him as you slumped in his arm.

"Fuck, she's fucking cuming on my cock!" Jimin yelled, his painted face twisting in a grotesque mask of sadistic triumph. "This pretty cockwhore is loving every fucking second of being bred like a bitch in heat!"

Jimin lifted your limp, trembling body off his softening shaft and passed your pliant form to Yoongi, who held you up and spread your thighs wide obscenely for everyone to see, your petite frame dangling helplessly in his strong arms as your destroyed sloppy pussy clenched around nothing. "Look at this slutty fucking cunt, look how fucking damaged it is. This cockslut's precious pussy is now just a gaping damaged hole, so puffy and red, filled with the cum of old men. Fucking disgusting leaky whore.”

Everyone hooted and hollered, as they spanked your folds while stroking their thick rods, drinking in the sight of your defiled pussy. Yoongi smirked down at your slack, fucked-stupid expression, mind shattered from the continuous pleasure and brutal assault.

Taehyung and Jungkook lied down on their discarded clothes on the ground, their huge dicks standing like trees. Jimin picked you up and forced you down onto the two thick, throbbing cocks. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, back arched as your tiny body convulsed as if trying to escape the brutal invasion, but there was nowhere to go.

Taehyung and Jungkook laid beneath you, grinning maniacally as they watched your contorted face before grabbing your hips and thighs, leaving crescent marks of their nails as they began to thrust upwards, driving their hard, veiny dicks even deeper into your straining, painful cunt.

"She's so small, hyung. She can't take us both," Taehyung moaned as Jungkook spoke breathily "Look at her tiny belly bounce. Push her harder, Jimin hyung, I can feel Tae hyung’s cock throbbing against mine through her fucking guts."

Jimin just smirked, grabbing your shoulder and shoved your twitching body down down with brutal force, making you bounce on their massive dicks. You felt every throbbing vein, every ridge and contour of their hard cocks as they scraped along your tender walls. Your belly bulged obscenely with each thrust, the skin pulled taut and shiny as their huge shafts pistoned in and out of you.

"ahh....no, no-oo"

Your cries only spurred the two men on, their laughter echoing around the eerie forest as they pounded into you with vicious abandon. "She's crying, hyung! She can't fucking take it!" Jungkook growled, as he slapped your ass, making you shriek.

"Then make her fucking take it. This slut is meant to be used, meant to be ruined for her own good" Yoongi growled as Jimin pushed you down even harder as your quivering body bounced mindlessly on their cocks, the pain and pleasure consuming you entirely.

After a few agonizing minutes, Yoongi suddenly held up his right hand, signaling for them to stop. "Alright, everyone," he said with mock concern. "Let's go easy on her for now, yeah? This is the slut's first time being used like a proper cocksleeve. Don't want to fucking break my pretty princess... yet."

Taehyung and Jungkook groaned in annoyance, and slowly, reluctantly, pulled their cocks out of your gaping cunt with wet, obscene squelches. You collapsed forward, your upper body dropping on the ground as you panted heavily, pussy still clenching and fluttering around nothing, as your juices oozed out of your reddened hole, pooling on the forest floor beneath you.

"We weren't done with her yet, hyung" Jungkook complained, giving your wobbling ass a sharp smack. "I was so fucking close..."

"Yeah, hyung," Taehyung chimed in, rubbing his sensitive, dripping cock against your hip. "Don't you want to see this little slut milk us dry? We could've flooded her belly until she was swollen with our cum."

Yoongi just smirked wickedly at your defiled form, taking in the sight of you as he spat in your abused, gaping hole and the mess of fluids leaking out of her before turned his attention back to the two younger men, his expression stern. "Did I fucking stutter? Find another fucking hole to use. This whore's cunt and ass are off-limits for now.” Yoongi snarled possessively as Taehyung and Jungkook grumbled incoherently.

Yoongi was the eldest and most unhinged of them all, and everyone knew it. Even the boldest among them, Jungkook kept his distance. Beside him, Jimin lit a cigarette for Yoongi, casting a warning glance at others.

“Fine, make this whore cum or she’ll die without knowing the sheer pleasure of cumming for her entire her miserable life. Now, let's see how creative you guys can get with this nasty slut. But remember, NO COCKS IN HER ASS OR CUNT.” Yoongi softened a bit, looking at his younger brothers faces’ as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

Excited at their hyung’s order, Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged wicked grins and turned their sadistic attentions to finding new ways to degrade you. Taehyung pulled you up, making you sit on the cool ground and handed you a thick, dirty stick from the forest floor as others watch you with hungry eyes, waiting to see your humiliation. "Here, dumb cockwhore. Show us how you masturbate. And don't be shy, put that dirty stick right up your cunt."

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you reached for the thick stick. With a deep breath, you tried to spread your thighs wide, exposing your puffy, leaking pussy to the leering circle of clowns, who laughed silently at you as you struggled to push the thick stick inside your sensitive core. "Filthy little bitch! Look at this virgin slut trying to fuck her cheap cunt with a stick! Need some help, baby?" Jimin leaned closer, spitting on the stick to help it slide in.

But despite your efforts, your inexperienced body rejected the foreign intrusion. “Sorry-y, I have never done this. Help-p me, please” you stuttered. The clowns cackled even harder as you pleaded, mewling like a kitten on the dirty ground. "What a useless cockslut! Can’t even push a fucking stick up your own cunt, you fucking waste of space!" Yoongi laughed cruelly as others joined in mocking you, your face filled with shame as you heard their insults. Taehyung slapped your face hard as Jungkook grabbed the stick and shoved it roughly into your slick hole until it finally goes all the way in. “Listen here, cunt. We can help... but you'll have to be a very good little slut for us. Now, fuck yourself, you virgin whore!!!”

As you began to fuck yourself with a desperate jerky thrusts, Taehyung and Jungkook surrounded you. Jungkook grabbed a fistful of your silky hair, yanking your head back viciously as him and Taehyung both spat thick globs of saliva onto your face and eyes. You blinked away the stinging spittle, whimpering around the branch, spearing your needy hole as both of them rubbed the swollen, purple head of their cocks all over your face, smearing your lips and cheeks with pungent precum. “Open wide, you nasty bitch, and tongue out. Show us how much you fucking love the taste of real cock."

You stuck out your tongue, the thick musk of their shaft filling your nostrils. "Fuck, look at this dirty cumslut, fucking herself like a stray bitch in heat. Now suck this, little cry baby whore" Taehyung growled, fisting your hair tighter as he forced his girthy shaft past your lips. He didn't wait for you to adjust and just started rutting into your mouth with hard, impatient thrusts.

Jungkook followed suit, pushing his own throbbing cock alongside Taehyung’s, stretching your jaw vulgarly as they forced you to service them both. They took turns fucking your mouth, spitting on your face, rubbing their balls on your forehead and nose, slapping your cheeks with their spit-slick pricks as you choked and gagged around the double intrusion, still thrusting the dirty stick wildly.

"Fuck, look at her face, she fucking loves being used like a fuck toy," Yoongi said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Tears and drool ran down your chin as they used your mouth, their heavy, sweaty balls slapping against your jaw with each brutal thrust. Suddenly, Jungkook ripped his cock out, as Taehyung turned your face towards his thick meat, making you deep throat his dick roughly. “That’s it, suck my thick clown dick, you stupid uptight whore. Your cute little mouth was made only for sucking dick and licking saggy balls of old men.” Taehyung spat as he continued to fuck your throat while Jungkook brushed your long silky locks tenderly before grabbing a handful of your hair, and yanked your head back harshly, pulling you off Taehyung’s cock. Jungkook spreads his legs wide and caged your neck between his muscular thighs, trapping your head as your chin rubbed against his cum-filled balls. He rubbed his cock on your nose and forehead as a long thick string of his saliva shot out from between his lips and directly landed on his cock before streaming down in your eyes, blinding you temporarily. "You're loving this, aren't you, you nasty bitch? Having your worthless face used like a filthy cock rag?"

And before you could open your eyes, he started thrusting his cock like an animal inside your mouth, not caring that you were still squinting and disoriented from the previous assault as he gripped your hair painfully, his legs clenched around your neck, cutting off your air supply with each brutal thrust as he pinned you at place, breasts bouncing vulgarly from the force . “Check this out, everyone! A disgusting natural born cockslut. Fuck your useless cunt is too damn loose for my huge rod, bitch. Look at you, choking and gagging on my fucking dick.”

Yoongi and Jimin chuckled at Jungkook’s words, still smoking and enjoying their cigarette as they watched the live porn. At the same time, Taehyung moaned as he stroke his cock violently, rubbing his thick bulbous head on your left cheek as drool poured out of your stretched lips, bubbling obscenely around Jungkook’s shaft. “Fuck, I bet this is what she dreams about, isn't it? Being passed around like a fuck doll, your nasty holes stuffed full of cock and cum. Fuck- k, this whiny cum slut, you act all prim and proper, walking to school like a good little girl but deep down, you're just a filthy, cock-craving dumb bitch. A dirty whore desperate to be raped like a cheap brothel slut you are.” Listening to their degrading words, you started fucking the stick faster as both Taehyung and Jungkook moved their hips ruthlessly.

With a final, cruel thrust, Jungkook hilted himself deep, cumming into your mouth as he held your head in place, forcing you to swallow every last drop as Taehyung groaned as thick ropes of cum splattered across your face, dripping down your chin and into your hair as they both emptied their loads on you. As the first spurts of jizz hit your face, your cunt clenched and spasmed around the stick, your own shameful climax crashing through you as you moaned loudly, collapsing on the forest floor, back arched as your lithe body shook uncontrollably.

Yoongi took a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground as others parted ways, giving him a clear path to the ruined girl. A sadistic grin appeared on his face as he looked down at you – Your broken form lay sprawled on the dirty forest ground, your naked body glistened with a sheen of sweat, saliva, and semen, long hair a sticky, tangled mess, your glassy, unfocused eyes stared up at nothing as drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, pooling on the ground as the crude stick still jutted out obscenely from your dripping swollen cunt. “Such a lovely slut. Didn’t think you had it in you, sweetheart. But here you are, a beautiful, useless fuckhole filled with cum and cocks.”

Your lips curved into a slow, lazy smile at Yoongi’s cruel words of praise, filling you with a perverse sense of pride and belonging. Carefully, Jimin approached you and leaned down, grabbing your hair and forcing you to meet Yoongi’s dark gaze. “Hey hyung, let's make this dumb bitch our official mascot. A personal whore for the whole crew to use whenever they want.”

Yoongi looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Why the fuck not? It's not like this dumb cunt has anything better to do with her life. Might as well put her to good use."

Jimin nodded in agreement as he spat on your face, watching you with sinister smile. "Sounds like a plan. Welcome to the family, honey. Looks like you've just become the official fuck doll for the whole fucking clown crew."

All of them cheered and guffawed, slapping each other on the back, celebrating the depraved future planned for their new mascot. You just laid there, a fucked-stupid grin on your face as you basked in the knowledge that you were now free. Finally free from the golden cage your mother had built. And in that moment, you couldn't imagine anything better.

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ogbaby3 · 3 days ago

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If I see another Landoscar as Sincaraz comparison I may pass out so here's my slightly unhinged yet actually well thought

✨F1 drivers as tennis players list✨

I will not be explaining bc that could take hours so if anyone is interested in hearing the reasoning feel free to ask, dm or comment and I will provide it to them!

Shout out to besties @summerhalder and @uroboros55 for their very helpful insights 🙂‍↕️

The list is in 2024 constructors order cause yeah:

Lando Norris - Holger Rune

Oscar Piastri - Jack Draper

Charles Leclerc - Stefanos Tsitsipas

Lewis Hamilton - Novak Djokovic

I will put a disclaimer here bc Novak is a shitty person and Lewis tries his best to help others and global causes so this one is extremely career merits only and a bit of how they treat younger talents (and cause it makes sense with Max)

Tumblr only allows 10 images per post but I did not download all of those gifs for me to not post them so bear with me as this will continue in the reblogs!

#Tennisblr #f1blr #Tennis #Atp tennis #F1 #formula 1 #lando norris #holger rune #oscar piastri #jack draper #charles leclerc #stefanos tsitsipas #lewis hamilton #novak djokovic

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ndrv3expert1 · 2 days ago

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I think it’s really interesting to talk about characters, their backstories, and their past relationships, and how that affects them. And, as the resident Tenko lover, as well as the resident Tenko deserved better believer, I have a theory, a Tenko theory.

I wasn’t going to talk about Tenko by herself again but I was going to write a comment under a mutuals post but since I can’t talk about Tenko like a normal person I created an entire rant instead so yeah enjoy my spiral.

But. Disclaimer this one’s a reach.

This is a Shuichi reaching for Kaede as she’s being dragged to her execution type of reach.

Tenko Has a Rose-Tinted View of Her Childhood

This theory is basically that Tenko if we’re talking in psychology terms idealizes her childhood or at least the vigilante part of it. And I don’t say that to insult her, or say she’s wrong or dumb. I think it’s a defense mechanism. A very human, very understandable one.

It’s hard to explain or justify sometimes, because of how Tenko is written. She’s treated more like a comic relief character. Even when she talks about her backstory, it’s rarely taken seriously either by herself or by the narrative. It’s written off as quirky or funny, not as something we should emotionally invest in.

But if we strip all that away and just look at what Tenko actually says, and how she talks about her past, I think it all starts to come together.

In one of her Free Time Events with Shuichi she talks about her and her master being “heroes of justice.” When Shuichi asks what that means, she says: during the day they help old ladies cross the street and rescue cats from trees, but at night they punish thieves and beat up gropers on trains. Shuichi compares it to superheroes, and Tenko is like We wore masks and went out into the streets to fight crime. My master’s ideas are always so cool.

And she says it with so much enthusiasm, so much pride.

But in my opinion the best way to analyze Danganronpa characters is to compare them to their narrative foils. And today that’s Maki Harukawa.

Both were abandoned by their parents at a young age. Were trained in violence from that young age. Both were raised with a sense of moral duty or obligation fight. Both had their entire identities shaped around their talents But the key difference? When Maki talks about her past, she does so with sadness. Bitterness. Trauma. When Tenko talks about hers, she’s smiling.

Now, you might say, “Of course Maki would be bitter she was killing people while Tenko was saving them.”

Yeah. But I still think there’s something important there. If we take Tenko at her word if she really was out there fighting crime at night, beating up predators and street criminals, using her neo-Aikido skills as a child then that’s not “cute” or “quirky.” That’s traumatic.

And yet, she talks about it like it was fun. Like it's one of those stories you tell at parties.

I’m not saying Tenko’s being dishonest. I’m saying she might not be fully aware of how abnormal it was. She still sees it through the lens of childhood innocence like she’s still a kid who believes in Santa Claus. She talks about vigilantism like it was dress-up. Like it was an video game.

And I think the real reason she sees it this way could be a combination of her personality her trusting nature, and her gullibility sure. But also, she needs to believe in it. She doesn’t want to question her beliefs. She doesn’t want to question her master. She doesn’t want to confront the idea that everything she was taught might have been twisted.

Her vigilantism, like Maki’s role as an assassin, is her sense of purpose and duty. (Doesn’t mean Maki likes being an assassin like Tenko likes being a vigilante just means she feels like she has to)

Her identity is built around this idea that she’s a protector. A fighter. A hero.

If she questions that, if she really looks at it too hard then what is she left with?

She’s not a hero.

She’s just a kid who saw things no kid her age should ever have to see.

So she clings to the narrative. She believes. And she believes. And she believes.

In her eyes, she’s a hero.

And in the eyes of the women she saved, she probably was as well.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t still a form of childhood trauma.

It just means she hasn’t let herself look at it that way yet.

Final Thoughts:

I think Tenko’s backstory leaves more questions than answers. And I think a lot of her character is like that.

We get these little pieces of information dots, basically but they’re never fully connected. You have to draw the lines yourself. And even when you do, you’re left with this weird, disformed shape that doesn’t quite make sense.

And honestly? I think that’s part of why Tenko’s character feels so complicated.

She was written to play a certain role a comic relief character, a bit of a stereotype. But some of the pieces we do get from her paint a different picture but it’s hard to view in her in that light because of the way she was portrayed.

But I’m not going to get into how Tenko was written and NIS America and all that stuff today.

Also clarification I'm not saying Tenko isn't a hero in the literal sense i'm more so talking about the doubt that might come when that bubble of being a hero is burst.

In conclusion Tenko deserves better Tenko and Maki should've had more interactions and I will die on this hill.

#danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa #tenko chabashira #character analysis #i’m so normal about them

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helionepho · 15 hours ago

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Love Is a Diagnosis (Chap. 5)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Ji Changmin Yandere AU Chapter 5 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing: psycho!changmin x psychiatrist!fem reader

genre: smut, suggestive, yandere, dark psychology, slow burn, hurt/comfort, psycho x psychiatrist au

warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI), suggestive content, explicit words, yandere!changmin, obsessive!changmin, possessive!changmin, psycho!changmin, needy!changmin, sub!changmin, mention of kiss, ejaculation, creepy behavior, manipulation, mental illness, Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), delusional attachment, toxic family dynamic

summary: You’re his personal psychiatrist. On the surface, Changmin appears to be a well-mannered, ordinary young man with a spotless public image—but beneath that, lies something far more dangerous. Only you and his family know the truth.

wc: 5.8k

status: on going

tag list: @nyu-topia

chapter list: ➤ chapter 1 ➤ chapter 2 ➤ chapter 3 ➤ chapter 4 ➤ chapter 5 [smut]

author note: this work is a fictional story featuring dark psychological themes, including obsession, manipulation, and mental illness. please read only if you’re comfortable with these subjects. the characters and behaviors depicted are not meant to romanticize or accurately represent real-life mental health conditions. Fiction ≠ Reality. feel free to comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist! stay safe and take care! ❤︎

You led Changmin upstairs in silence.

He hadn’t said a word since Mr. Ji left the study, and you didn’t push him to. One of his hands still curled in the fabric of your sleeve, like a boy trying not to get separated in a crowd. His head was down, footsteps light, as if he could make himself smaller by will alone.

When you reached his room, you opened the door for him and gently coaxed him inside. The lights were dimmed, the bedding slightly rumpled. It looked like a safe place.

“Sit down,” you said softly.

He obeyed without hesitation, lowering himself onto the edge of his bed.

You retrieved the first aid kit from the cabinet and sat on the bed near him, wordless. He flinched slightly when you rolled up his sleeve, revealing the angry red welt across his forearm where the bat had struck.

Your breath caught, but you didn’t say anything yet. You simply dabbed at it with antiseptic, careful, gentle.

Changmin watched your hands. He always did when you treated him.

You glanced up at him, your voice a murmur. “Changmin, can I ask something?”

He nodded, once. Eyes still on your hands.

“That day I found you in the park,” you said quietly. “Do you remember?”

His lashes fluttered. Then, a small nod.

Your voice dropped even softer. “You were crying. You had bruises on you then, too.”

His shoulders tensed.

“I never asked before,” you went on. “But I want to, now. Who gave you those bruises, Changmin?”

He was quiet for a long moment. You didn’t press.

Finally, he said, almost too softly to hear, “My father.”

Your hands stilled.

He looked down at them. “Sometimes my mother.”

The silence that followed was thick.

You blinked, trying to make sense of the ache blooming behind your ribs. All this time, you’d told yourself they were just the scrapes and bruises of a boy who played too rough, climbed too high, fell too hard. Just childhood. Just clumsiness. But now, knowing the truth, knowing it came from the very people who were supposed to protect him, your heart shattered into pieces.

He kept speaking, voice flat. “They said I had to be better. That I couldn’t afford to fall behind. I missed a question on a math exam. My piano competition score wasn’t perfect. I forgot to bow correctly at a dinner once. That kind of thing.”

Your chest ached.

“It wasn’t punishment,” he said. “It was discipline. That’s what they told me.”

You reached for his hand slowly. “You didn’t deserve that…”

His jaw clenched. “Maybe I did. I was supposed to be perfect. I was supposed to make them proud.”

You shook your head gently. “They didn’t want a son. They wanted a trophy. That’s not love, Changmin. That’s control.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

There was something raw in his eyes. Something broken, still bleeding. But behind it, that same flicker you always saw when he looked at you, the tiniest sliver of hope. Like he didn’t believe he was worthy of being cared for, but desperately wanted to be.

You stroked his hair back from his face, gently.

“You didn’t become this way on your own,” you said softly. “Someone made you feel like love had to be earned.”

Changmin stared at you. His eyes were red at the edges, not from crying, but from holding it back for too long.

Then slowly, he leaned forward, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, burying his face into your shoulder.

And there, in the quietest voice:

“...Don’t let him take you away from me,” he whispered, voice threadbare. “Please, Noona. I can’t lose you.”

You closed your arms around him in return.

“I’m here,” you whispered back. “I’m right here.”

And for a long time, you just held each other.

No doctor. No patient.

Just a boy who never learned softness, and the only person he let close enough to teach him.

***

Later that night, Changmin drifted off with his face buried in your chest, clinging to you like he was afraid you left him.

You hadn’t meant to stay. Not like this.

At first, you'd just meant to sit with him until he calmed down. To let the silence settle, to remind him he wasn’t alone. But somewhere between his trembling breaths and the way he clung to you, sleep had found him.

And you were still here. Lying beside him on the bed, your arm wrapped around his back.

He looked peaceful.

Like the years of pressure and scars and expectation had slipped away in his sleep.

Your hand traced a light line along the curve of his spine. He stirred slightly, his breath warm against your collarbone, but didn’t wake.

And you realized…

You weren’t afraid anymore.

Not of him.

Not of the darkness that lived behind his eyes. Not even of the part of him that clung too hard, or loved too deeply, or broke too easily.

Because you saw it now. All of it.

The boy who had never been taught gentleness. The man who tried so hard to give it to you anyway.

And maybe you should’ve kept your distance. Maybe it was wrong to let the line blur this far. But in this moment, with his heartbeat pressed faintly against yours, you didn’t care.

He deserved to know what love felt like.

The kind that didn’t hit.

The kind that didn’t demand perfection.

The kind that stayed.

You shifted a little closer, tightening your hold around him.

“You’re not broken,” you thought, your chin resting lightly against his hair. “You were just never given the chance to be whole.”

And with that thought heavy in your chest, you let yourself drift off too. Not as his psychiatrist. Not even as his protector.

Just as someone who couldn’t let him sleep alone.

***

It was past midnight when you felt it.

The shift.

Changmin's body tensed beside you, sudden and sharp. Like something had snapped inside him.

His breathing turned erratic, shallow gasps pulling through clenched teeth. The heat of his skin had spiked, damp with sweat.

And then came the sound.

“...Noona...”

A breathless murmur at first. Then louder.

“Noona—Noona!”

You stirred, heart already quickening as you sat up slightly, blinking in the dim light filtering through the curtains.

Changmin was trembling beside you, brow furrowed, lashes wet, sweat beading along his temples. His entire body had curled in on itself like he was running, trapped in something awful he couldn’t escape.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching for him, brushing back his damp hair. “Hey, Changmin… wake up.”

He jerked slightly, breath catching.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said again, firmer this time, cupping his cheek. “I’m right here. It’s just a bad dream, baby. Wake up. Come back to me.”

His eyes flew open.

Wide, wild, glassy.

And for a second, he didn’t speak. He just stared at you like you weren’t real.

Then the tears came. Just one at first, tracking down from the corner of his eye.

He pulled you, wrapped his arms around you, burying his face against your neck, holding on like you might vanish again.

“You left me…” he choked out. “You were gone, and I—I tried to follow, but you wouldn’t look at me. You didn’t even turn around.”

You held him tighter, one hand soothing up and down his back.

“It was just a dream,” you whispered, rocking him gently. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He clung harder, his body shaking against yours.

“I called you,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Over and over… but you didn’t come back. I couldn’t find you.”

You pressed your lips to his temple, breath soft and steady.

“You found me now,” you said. “You’re safe. I’m right here. I never left.”

His breath hitched again, but his grip finally started to loosen, not out of reluctance, but exhaustion. He pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were red and glassy, cheeks damp, hair sticking slightly to his forehead.

“You’re real?” he asked in a broken voice. “You’re really here?”

You nodded, brushing your thumb gently under his eye.

“As real as I’ve ever been,” you whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere, Changmin. I promise.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering closed, and leaned back into your arms like they were the only place he’d ever felt safe.

You stayed like that, until his breathing finally began to settle again.

And even then, you didn’t let go.

***

You thought he had finally fallen back asleep.

His breathing had steadied, his arms still wrapped loosely around you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Until—

You felt it.

The gentle tug at your wrist.

You looked down to find his fingers curled around it, not forceful, but intentional. Slowly, he pulled your hand upward, guiding it to his face. He leaned into your palm like it was the only warmth he trusted, his cheek soft and flushed against your skin.

His eyes were half-lidded, still glossy from earlier, lips parted just slightly.

You brushed your thumb across his cheekbone, and he shivered.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

He sucked in a breath at your touch. Barely audible.

He just took your hand again and slowly lowered it—down the line of his neck, across his chest where the thin fabric of his shirt clung slightly from the heat of his skin.

You could feel the thrum of his heartbeat. Fast. Unsteady.

His lashes fluttered again, and then his eyes met yours. Wide, wet, and pleading.

“Can I…” he whispered, voice raw. “Can I kiss you, Noona? Please… Just let me… please.”

Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. Not from sadness. From how much he needed it. From the ache that had nowhere else to go.

You should’ve said no.

You’re still his psychiatrist. Still the one who was supposed to stay clear-headed.

But that line had been fading for a while now.

And tonight… it disappeared entirely.

You leaned in before you even realized it, and pressed your lips to his.

His breath caught.

Then he melted.

It was soft at first, so tender it hurt. His hands trembled as they reached to hold your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt like it anchored him to reality.

But the moment your lips parted just slightly, his need flooded forward.

He kissed you deeper, fuller, a whimper slipping from his throat as his mouth opened beneath yours, desperate and reverent.

His hands pulled you closer like he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance. His chest rose against yours in uneven bursts, warm and wanting.

Your hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers curling tightly in his hair as you pulled him closer. He gasped softly against your lips, and you swallowed the sound, tilting your head to kiss him again, deeper this time.

“Mmph..”

His lips parted in surrender, and you felt it—his tongue slipping past yours, warm and slow, tasting you like he’d been starving for it. The soft, wet slide of it made your stomach twist with heat.

His body trembled under your touch.

You didn’t even know when it happened—when the space disappeared, when your bodies were suddenly flush, every inch of him pressed against you like he needed the contact to breathe. “Thank you,” he whispered between kisses, his voice wrecked. “Thank you, thank you…”

You kissed him again to quiet the words, to soothe the ache you could feel pulsing from him in waves. His lips were wet and warm beneath yours, a mix of need and disbelief in every movement.

When you finally pulled back for air, his face was flushed pink, his eyes glassy, and his lips kiss-bitten and swollen.

“Noona…” he whispered again, forehead pressing to yours.

But this time, it wasn’t a plea.

It was a prayer.

And you were the only god he’d ever worship.

***

His forehead stayed pressed to yours, breath warm and shaky between your lips. His lashes were damp, cheeks flushed, lips parted from the dizzying kisses you’d already given him.

But then, his hand found yours again.

Fingers trembling, he slowly brought it downward.

Lower.

Across the planes of his chest… his stomach…

Down, down…

He guided your hand gently over his clothed length.

Your breath caught.

He was already hard beneath the soft, thin fabric of his sweatpants, the heat of him undeniable against your palm. You froze, eyes widening as your fingertips unintentionally brushed along the shape of him, of his hard clothed cock.

“Changmin—”

But he didn’t let go of your hand. His grip on your wrist tightened. Not rough, but desperate. Like he was holding on for life.

His face burned red. His voice shook.

“Touch me…” he whispered. “Please, Noona. Touch me more…”

You looked at him.

Really looked.

His chest heaved, lips bitten, eyes filled with naked need. He looked ruined already—just from kissing you. His thighs tensed under you as he arched slightly into your hand, shivering when your palm brushed his clothed shaft again.

“It’s itching down there,” he whimpered, breathless. “It won’t stop… Can Noona feel it? It’s so hard… I want you to do something for it, please…”

You should’ve stopped.

You didn’t.

You knew this was a line you couldn’t uncross. But then he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing holding him together.

Instead, your hand moved. Slow, uncertain at first, stroking along the thick line of his clothed cock through his pants. He let out a trembling moan, head falling forward against your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck.

“Ah—hnn…!” he gasped, hips jerking up just barely. “That—feels so good…”

You pressed your lips to his temple.

“You want more?” you murmured, voice low. “Is that it, baby?”

He nodded fast, too fast, whimpering again.

“Yes—yes, Noona, please… I want more—need more, I want Noona to touch me… I’ve never—” His voice broke. “I’ve never let anyone touch me there. Only you. I only want you…”

Your hand moved, slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath caught, a sharp, broken inhale that turned into a strangled moan the second your fingers brushed over him through the thin cotton of his underwear.

His clothed shaft was twitching beneath your palm.

The thin fabric of his underwear doing nothing to hide how much he needed you. You felt everything clearer. The shape of him, the heat, the way he pressed into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You stroked him a little faster, and he choked on your name, gasping, clinging to you like he didn’t know whether to cry or cum.

“Hngg… mmph—Noona…”

His lips found your collarbone, trembling kisses pressed there between panting breaths. His voice was high and wrecked, whispering between each gasp:

“I love you… I love you… I love you…”

Changmin's breath hitched as your hand slipped inside his underwear now.

Past the soft elastic. Past the warm skin. Until your fingers found his hard cock—bare.

Your hand wrapped around his warm length gently, and he moaned.

Not a whimper.

Not a gasp.

A full, aching moan ripped from his throat as he jolted under your touch, head falling back against the pillow.

“Ah—Noona…!”

The sound was loud—too loud. Your heart jumped, and instinctively, you started pulling your hand out of his pants.

“Changmin—quiet,” you hissed, glancing toward the door. “You have to be quiet.”

But when your gaze fell back to him—

His eyes were already looking up at you.

Wet. Glassy with desperation.

“Don’t stop…” he whispered, broken and pleading. “Please—please, I’ll be good. I promise. I won’t make a sound, Noona, I swear—I’ll be quiet, just please don’t stop touching me…”

His voice cracked near the end, lip trembling.

And your resolve snapped with it.

You exhaled softly, then reached again—this time firmer, more intentional—as you gently tugged down the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear in one slow motion.

The fabric slipped past his hips, just enough for his cock to spring free. Thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.

Your breath caught. You hadn’t expected it to be this… big.

Long, girthy, curved just slightly toward his belly. The head glossy with precum, twitching slightly with every shallow breath he took.

Changmin’s hands gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles had gone pale, his legs tensing as your palm closed around him fully.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling, back arching off the mattress as you stroked him. Slow and smooth from base to tip.

But he didn’t moan again.

No.

He bit down on his lip so hard it looked painful. His thighs trembled, breath breaking into hot little puffs as he held back the noise like he promised.

Too hard.

“Baby…” you whispered, concern flickering in your voice.

He looked up at you, and your heart clenched.

His face was flushed, tears gathering again at the corners of his eyes, lip nearly trembling from how hard he was biting it.

So you leaned in.

And kissed him.

Your lips captured his as your hand kept stroking his cock, firmly, your thumb brushing the head just enough to make him shudder. He gasped into your mouth, finally letting the sound out. You swallowed his moan, kissed it from him, deep and slow and full of heat.

He whimpered softly as he bucked into your hand, your name muffled against your lips.

“Noona… I—It’s coming—I’m—!”

You kept pumping him, faster now, your fingers curling just right as your lips stayed locked with his, grounding.

He couldn’t hold it anymore. Changmin’s hips jerked once, and then he came.

With a trembling gasp, he spilled his hot and thick semen into your hand. His whole body shuddering as he held tight to the sheets like he’d fall apart if he let go.

His hips twitched through the aftershocks, his voice muffled still against your mouth, until the trembling slowly eased.

You finally pulled back, just enough to look at him.

His chest was heaving. Sweat clung to his hairline. His cock still throbbed faintly in your palm.

And there it was—his face. Flushed, tear-streaked, lips kiss-bitten and slack with the kind of relief that came from more than just release.

It was worship.

“Thank you…” he breathed. “Thank you, Noona…”

You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, brushing back his damp hair.

“You did so well,” you whispered, voice soft and low. “So good for me.”

You reached for the tissues beside the bed, careful and quiet, your other hand still resting lightly on his hip.

Changmin was still catching his breath. His lashes fluttering, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast. His arms had gone slack, no longer gripping the sheets, just resting against your sides like he’d given you everything and had nothing left but you.

As you gently cleaned the mess on his stomach and hand, he blinked up at you, face flushed and drowsy.

“I’m sorry…” he murmured.

You paused, then smiled.

“No need to be sorry,” you said, stroking your thumb along his hipbone, just under his shirt. “You were perfect.”

His eyes flickered, slightly unsure. “I… I didn’t mean to get so loud. I really tried…”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You did so well, baby. You were so good for me. I’m proud of you.”

The tension in his shoulders finally dropped, like those few words had pulled the last of the panic from his system.

You helped him gently pull his sweatpants and underwear back up, careful not to move too fast. He let you, hands pliant, eyes still watching your face like he couldn’t believe you were still here. Still close. Still kind.

Once he was tucked in again, you reached to adjust the blanket and slid into the bed beside him once more.

He turned toward you immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face against your collarbone.

You held him. Just held him.

One hand rested on the back of his head, slowly running your fingers through his hair. The other stroked his back through the soft fabric of his shirt, your touch steady and soothing.

His breathing began to slow again.

“You’re not going anywhere, right…?” he mumbled into your skin.

You kissed the top of his head.

“No…” you whispered.

He nodded sleepily. That was enough.

Within minutes, you felt his weight shift slightly. His body growing heavier with sleep, breaths evening out against your chest. His arms remained around you, even in sleep, fingers curled against your side like they couldn’t bear to let go.

And as you held him there in the dark, you realized something quietly, without fear or shame:

You didn’t want to leave.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

So you closed your eyes. Let yourself drift off too. Still wrapped in the arms of a boy who clung to you like you were all he had left.

And maybe… you were.

***

You woke to warmth.

Not just the sun slipping through the sheer curtains… but the body next to yours.

Changmin.

He was still asleep.

One arm curled around your middle, loose now, no longer clinging like last night… but not far. His cheek rested on the pillow just beside yours, lips slightly parted, lashes resting delicately on pale skin.

And for a moment, you just… looked at him.

Without fear. Without tension.

Just quiet awe.

Because he looked different like this. Not like the sharp, dangerously controlled man others knew. Not like the possessive mess that unraveled in your hands.

But like something wounded.

And soft.

And when you remembered how he trembled under your touch… how he’d gasped your name and begged for comfort, breathless and broken. Your cheeks flushed hot.

You hadn’t expected to touch him that way.

You hadn’t expected to want to.

But you had. And he had melted.

And you… hadn’t pulled away.

You bit your bottom lip and exhaled slowly, feeling the heat rise again as you glanced at his pretty sleeping face.

“…You’re kind of unfair, you know,” you whispered to no one, brushing a finger through the strands of hair that had fallen over his brow.

Then, gently, you leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Just once.

Soft. Careful. A peace offering. Or maybe an apology.

You slipped out of bed after that.

Quietly.

Carefully.

You didn’t want to wake him yet, not when he looked like he was dreaming something peaceful for once.

***

The kitchen was still and dim, the morning light only beginning to reach the countertops. You moved on autopilot, pulling out ingredients and moving around the space with a kind of calm you weren’t used to.

A part of you was still buzzing, not from fear, not anymore, but from everything that had happened.

The night.

His voice.

Your name on his tongue like it meant salvation.

You stirred the eggs in silence, shaking off the warm flutter in your chest. A small smile tugged at your lips without your permission.

You didn’t hear him come in.

But you felt it. The shift in air. The quiet steps.

And then: arms around your waist from behind. Firm. Gentle. Warm.

“Noona…” His voice was still heavy with sleep. Quiet. Raw.

With his chest pressed to your back, he buried his face into your shoulder, nose nudging the spot where your shirt slipped a little from your collar.

“You’re here,” he murmured. “I thought I dreamed you again.”

You reached down instinctively, one hand resting over his.

His arms didn’t move.

He held you there, pressed so close from behind, like your body was the only warmth in the room. His nose nuzzled the curve of your shoulder, his breath brushed your skin, warm and unhurried.

“You’re… real,” he murmured again, almost like he still didn’t believe it.

And then…

He pressed a kiss to your neck.

Slow.

Barely even a kiss, more like a thank-you, trembling with things he couldn’t say out loud.

But then his lips didn’t stop.

They wandered, along the slope of your neck to the space just beneath your ear, trailing heat with every brush. He kissed lower, slower. And then his mouth opened just a little.

A soft drag of tongue. A faint scrape of teeth. Just enough to make your breath stutter.

You gripped the spatula tighter.

“Changmin,” you whispered, voice thinner than you meant.

He hummed into your skin.

“I liked how you touched me last night…” he said, voice husky. “You didn’t run away.”

Another kiss. This time firmer, more deliberate.

“Noona… can I do something like that for you too?”

Your knees almost gave out.

You turned around, spinning to face him before the heat could crawl any higher. Your hands pressed lightly to his chest as you tried to gather the flutter in your throat.

He was staring at you again, like you were the answer to a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

You smiled. Gentle, but flustered.

“Sit down first,” you said. “I’m still making breakfast.”

His lips parted in the beginnings of a whine. “But—”

“What if someone walks in?” you added quickly, glancing toward the doorway.

That did it.

His pout deepened.

But he let go of your waist, sighing like it was the greatest sacrifice in the world.

“Fine…” he muttered, dragging his feet slightly as he sat down at the small table. Still watching you. “But I’m not hungry for food.”

Your cheeks burned again.

But you didn’t reply.

You turned back to the stove with shaking hands and a thundering heart, pretending the room wasn’t already heavy with the scent of want.

And behind you, he just watched. Chin resting in his palm, eyes never leaving your back.

Like you were the only thing he could taste.

***

Later that day, he brought you back to his room.

He didn’t say anything at first, just reached for your hand, and led you there like it was the only place he felt safe.

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you could ask if something was wrong, he was already settling onto the mattress, his head gently placed on your lap.

You sat there in silence.

Your fingers moved slowly through his hair, soft, rhythmic strokes that helped settle the invisible hum beneath his skin. His eyes were half-lidded, lashes fluttering.

For a while, it was peaceful. Almost calm.

But the tension in his shoulders hadn’t left.

And when your hand drifted down to brush against his wrapped arms, the bandaged injury from the night before you felt it:

The tight clench of his jaw.

The way he swallowed.

The way his voice broke the silence.

“He told me yesterday,” Changmin murmured, referring to his father. “In his study.”

Your thumb moved carefully over the fabric covering his bruised skin.

“Told you what…?” you asked, softly.

He was quiet for a beat. Too quiet.

Then he exhaled.

“That he’s planning to marry me off.”

Your hand paused.

“To who?”

“Daughter from the Kim family,” he said flatly. “A corporate tie. Educated. Polished. Comes from money. Normal. His words.”

Changmin laughed under his breath, but there was no humor in it. Only bitterness.

Slowly, he turned his head to the side, cheek resting against your thigh now as he looked up at you.

And for a moment, there it was again, that raw, quiet fear.

Not of marriage.

But of losing you.

“He accepted a dinner invitation for Friday,” Changmin added. “An introduction between families. It’s already scheduled.”

Your fingers tightened unconsciously over his wrapped hand, but you didn’t speak.

He did.

“I told him…” His voice dropped. “I told him I’d rather set the entire restaurant on fire than sit at that table.”

There was no tremble in his voice now. Just cold steel and something darker, coiling beneath.

“I said I’d rather watch that woman choke on her welcome wine while her father begs me to stop. I said if he forces me to go, I won’t leave anyone at that table untouched.”

Your heart stilled.

The words weren’t loud. They weren’t angry.

But they were real.

And they were Changmin.

“That’s when he grabbed the bat,” he added, glancing at his bandaged hand with a small, humorless smile. “Guess I struck a nerve.”

You finally met his eyes. Wide, glassy, too vulnerable for someone who had just uttered a threat soaked in blood.

“He wants me to marry someone else,” Changmin whispered. “But he doesn’t understand.”

His uninjured hand moved then, reaching up to cup your face, eyes locking with yours.

“He doesn’t understand that there’s no one else except you, Noona.”

You didn’t speak at first.

You just looked at him. His face resting on your lap, his bandaged hand in yours, his eyes still shadowed with the echo of his father’s threats… and his own.

There was a deep, aching part of him that still expected you to pull away.

To be afraid.

To leave.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned down slowly, brushing your fingers gently through his hair again. Smoothing it back behind his ear. Soft. Thoughtful.

“Changmin…” you whispered.

His name felt like something sacred in your mouth.

He blinked up at you, like he was afraid it might shatter him.

You cupped his cheek with both hands, your thumb brushing lightly across his skin. His breathing hitched.

“You don’t have to marry anyone,” you said. “Not for him. Not for anyone else.”

He said nothing. But his hand tightened faintly over yours.

“You’re not alone in this,” you added, voice softer now. “I’m not leaving you. Not when you’ve let me see all this… not when you’ve shown me you.”

His lips parted slightly. You could see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, like he wanted to believe you, but didn’t know how.

So you did the only thing that felt right.

You leaned in… and kissed him.

Not rushed. Not out of pity.

But slowly. Tenderly.

Your lips brushed his forehead first, right above the space between his brows.

Then his cheekbone.

Then, finally—when he tilted his face up to you, eyes fluttering closed—you kissed him properly. Just once. Gentle and grounding.

A promise pressed into his lips.

When you pulled back, he was still staring at you.

Still quiet.

But his expression had changed.

Something unspoken cracked behind his eyes, melting beneath your touch. He reached up, arms curling around your waist now, and buried his face into your stomach.

“You’re the only thing I want, Noona…” he whispered, muffled against your shirt. “I don’t care what he says. I don’t care what anyone says.”

You stroked his hair again.

“I know,” you said quietly. “I know.”

And for a while, neither of you spoke.

Because in that moment, he didn’t need promises or plans.

He just needed to feel you were still there.

Still his.

***

Days passed in a kind of hush after that, as if the world itself had paused to see what would happen next.

You noticed the way your chest tightened when Changmin smiled at you, not with madness, but with something softer than obsession. Something dangerously close to devotion.

You no longer saw Ji Changmin as just your patient.

Not after the way he clung to you, whispering your name like it was the only thing tethering him to the world. His love wrapped itself around you slowly, until you couldn’t tell where fear ended and something else began.

You saw the danger in him.

And still, you stayed.

But when others were present—especially his father—you wore your mask again. Carefully. Neatly.

At the long dining table, you sat a little farther from Changmin than you wanted to. Your posture was straight. Your answers were precise.

“Dr. (Y/N), how is my son’s condition?” Mr. Ji would ask, voice clipped, his stare always two degrees too sharp.

You never flinched.

“He’s been stable,” you’d reply evenly. “Cooperative. I believe the current environment is helping.”

And beneath the table, just out of sight, Changmin’s pinky would brush yours. Barely there. A private gesture. Other times, his hand would rest lightly on your thigh, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of your dress.

He was quiet about it in front of his father. But in the little moments when his father wasn’t around, his care revealed itself.

Changmin remembered every detail about you. He brought your tea the way you liked it, without asking. When the wind picked up, he’d drape your cardigan over your arms without a word. “You’ll catch a cold, Noona,” he murmured.

When you were working, he sat beside you. Sometimes with his head in your lap. Sometimes just watching your fingers move across the page, like even your stillness was worth memorizing.

And in return, you offered him the same kind of love. The kind that didn’t need to be announced to be felt.

To others, your response was professionalism. Performance.

To him?

It was everything.

He made sure the mansion felt it in every small, deliberate act.

The staff noticed first.

The maids—once used to Changmin’s mood swings—whispered when they passed. They noticed the way his temper had cooled, the warmth in his tone when he said your name.

“He smiles more now, no more tantrums…” one whispered, peeking past the parlor doorway. Changmin sat on the garden bench with you tucked beneath his arm, his chin resting in your hair.

“He’s in love,” another replied, quiet with awe.

“He treats her like she’s already his wife.”

And they weren’t wrong.

Once, a younger maid had asked shyly, “Young master, what’s the secret to being in love?”

Changmin didn’t miss a beat. It was the first time he offered the maid a smile.

With his arms looped around your waist and his chin pressed to your shoulder, he said, “Give her everything.”

Then softer, eyes never leaving yours—

“Even the things she hasn’t asked for yet. Especially those.”

You laughed it off, nudged him playfully away.

But he didn’t laugh back.

He meant it.

He always meant it.

And you were starting to understand the weight of that truth.

You were still his psychiatrist. Still the one tasked with keeping him stable, rational, safe.

And yet…

You had started waiting for his touch. You had started looking for him first in every room. You told yourself it was routine. That it was duty.

But then came the nights when he held you tightly like a vow. The kisses pressed hurriedly behind closed doors. The voice that trembled when he whispered, “Don’t leave me.”

And you never did.

Maybe you couldn’t.

Because love like this wasn’t clean. It was messy. Terrifying. Quietly consuming.

But it was real.

Still, the world outside your little bubble hadn’t paused.

The arranged dinner meant to introduce Changmin to the Kim family’s daughter still sat like a weight in the background.

You hadn’t brought it up. Neither had Changmin.

But both of you felt it.

Like a clock ticking down. Waiting.

***

To Be Continued...

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ilysungho · 3 days ago

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owner like sungho ♡

a/n: hey guys… this is nastyyyy but also it won’t leave my brain so i just decided to write and post… my apologies but also i hope you guys can see my vision… i’m loving mean!sungho rn contains: mean-dom!sungho x puppy sub!reader, roleplay (pet play… but more extreme than normal), some non sexual dominance too!, heavy, owner/pet dynamics, use of toys (leash, collar, vibrator, dildo, cage), humiliation kink, overstimulation, edging, dollification/dumbification, corruption kink undertones, voyeurism, cum eating, plushie humping

extreme pet play with dom!sungho where he puts a leash on you and walks you around the room with a vibrator on, except you are crawling and shaking because he only increases the speed every time you cum. there’s a trail of your arousal as it drips down the floor where ever you crawl as he pulls you around, the choker definitely leaving a bruise on you when he takes it off. he gets a call from jaehyun and talks about you like you’re an actual dog, making up an elaborate story about how he had to “pet sit for a friend,” and then he tells you to bark on call to make jaehyun believe that he actually has a dog when his friend questions the lie. sungho makes you watch him masturbate into a dog bowl and then has you drink it like it’s water, making you get down on your knees with your hands behind your back as you obey him. he especially loves it when you bring your face up after licking his cum, the remains dripping down the side of your mouth as you stick your tongue out just like a dumb puppy. he gets you toys (plushies) to play with, making you hump them because “that’s how pets should play”. he even gets a collar with your name and a cage to put you in when you disobey him, and then makes you watch him masturbate all the time while you just have you sit still and edge yourself on the dildo suctioned down on the floor below. but don’t worry! he’s just as sweet when he’s not horny for you, kissing the hurt skin on your neck as he bandaids the bruises on your knees from sitting on the floor too long. he often lets your nails grow out because he wants to trim them for you himself—mostly because he doesn’t want you to play with yourself so having long nails prevents that. he believes that since he’s your owner, he has complete ownership over you and can do anything he wants with you, putting you in skimpy outfits and bows in your hair that’s up in pigtails because that’s how he loves to see you dressed. but also, he loves doing your hair a lot, shampooing it in your favorite scents, drying it with a hair dryer as you’re sitting on the floor, brushing it for you as you sit on his lap, and then styling it for you as he asks how you like it, but his tone shifts right after as he says, “my puppy will like anything i give her hm?”

thank you for reading! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms! want more? check out the masterlist! want to be notified when something drops? join taglist here!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪. written with love. by, 𝓀𝖺𝗍𝗂. ☆

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twopoppies · 3 days ago

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hi gina. how do you feel about readers telling the writers on their blog that they hate the stories they write? i saw this anon send it to cristal (neverforpickles) and it’s so brave

Brave? That's rude as fuck. What is wrong with that person? I don't give a shit if you absolutely HATED their fic, why on earth would you go tell someone that? Especially someone who didn't ask for feedback.

I can't tell you the number of fics I noped out of or downright hated. But I would NEVER leave a comment or send an anon telling the author. I wouldn't even do that to a published author. In fact, I don't even like to publicly answer people who ask me about fics I don't like. It's rude. And mean.

I don't think people really understand how much work (and actual bravery) goes into writing and publishing a fic. Some people literally work for years writing one fic and then post a full-length novel for you to read FOR FREE. And you have the nerve to go tell them it sucks? Fuck off. It's bad enough people don't leave nice comments or reblog your posts, but going out of your way to be a bitch? No.

@neverforpickles I'm sorry that happened. Send me your fic. I want to read it. ❤️

#fanfiction commentary

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 days ago

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Untitled, 2025 (GD x OFC) Chapter 10: Tour

Pairing: G-Dragon/Kwon Jiyong x OFC Genre/Warnings: in this chapter: a whole lot of fluff...

It’s 2025 and the King of K-Pop is back. He and his music are everywhere. On the charts, all over social media and smack in the middle of Maddie’s work schedule. Sometimes she still can’t believe this is her actual job now - documenting the chaos behind the scenes and trying to make sure no one on his team gets lost, bruised or accidentally starts a viral scandal.

What’s even harder to believe? That she and Jiyong met five years ago. Actually… scratch that. They met ten years ago too. Time has a weird sense of humor like that and things get blurry when you’re busy, nostalgic, and maybe just a little bit smitten. Also, life throws more daisies your way than you’d expect.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

More on AO3 Guys, I really appreciate your comments and messages recently, it makes me feel so damn good about this story and writing in general, thank you, truly <3

December 2014

"I'm sure you’ll love it there." Cheungha says and I can’t help but laugh.

It’s winter in Seoul. No snow yet, but the cold is the kind that bites through your coat and clings to you long after you’ve crawled under your covers. Summer heat nearly knocked me out when I arrived and the monsoon season was its own nightmare, but this cold? It’s relentless. Still, winter has been my favorite season so far because I finally feel like I’ve arrived here. Work is still insane, but manageable. My neighbor still drives me mad, but I’ve figured out how to shut him up at night. I’ve even found a handful of friends I know I can rely on.

Cheungha is one of them. The rest? Regular, everyday people like me. That’s why last summer at the lake house with all those famous faces already feels like a weird fever dream. I’m happy to have my life back to normal. Which is why I laugh when Cheungha says that. If she’d actually been thinking of me when planning our evening, we wouldn’t be on our way to some swanky pre-Christmas party in Gangnam. We’d be crammed into a tiny, slightly sketchy neighborhood restaurant with steaming bowls of something spicy and cheap, gossiping until closing time. But this is Cheungha and glittery parties are her thing.

“Is that so?” I ask, eyeing her reflection in the mirrored elevator. She’s fixing her hair, already glowing like she owns the night. When her eyes meet mine, I think for a moment I’ve annoyed her, but then she grins. “Okay, fine, there’s a good chance you’ll hate it. But it’s too late now, you’re mine for tonight.” That’s how she is - half-flirty, always dramatic. It never goes anywhere, but it’s fun and honestly, it’s nice to feel wanted. Who says you can’t flirt with your friends? If she ever crossed a line, I’d say something. But this? This is just Cheungha and I like her for it.

So I let out a theatrical sigh, ditch my scarf and follow her out when the elevator dings.

The party is exactly what I expected - polished, expensive, not really my scene. But the music isn’t terrible, the canapés are amazing and the champagne is free. Since I’ve been perpetually broke since moving here, I make the best of it.

And that’s when I see him.

Jiyong is across the room by a window, champagne flute in hand. His outfit is a dark suit with glittering accents that catch the light. He literally shines among a crowd of rich-but-safe choices. His hair is longer than it was in the summer, sleeked back and his face is... yeah, as unfairly beautiful as I remember. To be perfectly honest… he looks like a bit of an asshole. It might just be me projecting, but still.

Since that lake weekend, I haven’t seen him once and now he’s literally sparkling. Perfect.

Of course, Cheungha’s route through the crowd takes us straight toward him. Daesung spots us and waves, all warmth and smiles and I wave back before letting my gaze flick across the rest of the group. Jiyong’s on his phone, head down, oblivious. Even when he finally pockets it, he greets Cheungha like the old friends they are and… nothing. Not even a nod for me.

Maybe he genuinely doesn’t remember me. Wouldn’t shock me. Either way, it’s rude. I don’t need a bow or a song and dance, but some kind of acknowledgment would’ve been nice, even if I am a stranger.

I tell myself it shouldn’t bother me - it wasn’t a big deal then, so why does it matter now? Except it does. And it’s even more annoying that, despite all this, he still makes my pulse jump. It’s not just that he’s handsome. There’s something magnetic about him. The way he dresses, the way his face shifts from soft to unreadable in seconds. I catch myself watching too long before I shake it off and down my drink.

For once, I wish this was an actual party with music and dancing. Instead, it’s polite small groups and pleasant conversations. Since I don’t know anyone else, I stick with Cheungha’s circle.

Then Seunghyun arrives. He smiles wide at me, hand brushing my back in greeting and the second Jiyong notices, he pointedly turns away. That’s it. My last shred of patience snaps. I scoff - loud enough for him to hear, childish and deliberate. It works. He turns back, one eyebrow arched and gives me a look I’ve never seen before. A few seconds pass, heavy with unspoken things, before he finally speaks.

“What? Did you expect me to tell you I missed you? To please please give me another shot?” The words hit like ice water. My jaw drops, not to reply, just because I’m stunned.

Of course I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect anything. At first, after the lake, I wondered if I’d see him again. Maybe Cheungha was keeping us apart, or maybe it really had been a one-off. In the end, it didn’t matter - I’d had enough even before it started.

But still… it stings. Because somewhere, buried deep, there’s a tiny part of me that would’ve liked to hear it. And he knows it.

I want to tell him to fuck off. That he can be famous and obnoxious somewhere else tonight, just not next to me. Anything. But no words come. Instead, I silently admit he’s right by turning away, giving him nothing and too much at the same time.

“You’re such a dick, Ji. Seriously. Super low… a simple hello would’ve sufficed.” Cheungha mutters under her breath. I bite my lip, wishing no one had heard him, but apparently everyone has. The rest of the group pretends not to notice, which is almost worse. Cheungha’s probably the better person here for saying something, but all I want is for this to go away.

I last another hour, making small talk with Seunghyun before I finally excuse myself and escape. Cheungha knows why, everyone knows why. Jiyongs eyes meet mine for a single second before we both turn away.

In the cab home, I already know this is going to be one of those memories. The kind that resurfaces years later, when I’m already feeling low, to remind me how pathetic it felt to stand there, frozen, letting him look at me like that. And the worst part? Even when he was being a complete ass, some part of me enjoyed that he looked at me at all.

Ugh.

March 2025

I used to hate it when people said they were on cloud nine; it seemed overly dramatic.

And… well… I get it now. It's not just Jiyong. Well, he is a big part of it. But everything else as well. Suddenly, everything seems so easy and everything is going well. The simplest, but annoying, daily tasks are suddenly just fine. All the ideas I had for content at work spark interest and engagement; I feel proud of it. Life just feels good right now… Surely this can't be a constant state, right? But fuck, it would be nice.

Work is crazy… again. When is it ever not? We are so close to the start of the tour, I can't believe it's finally almost here. Ji is exhausted but excited. And maybe a little scared. I've heard so much about how drained he was during the last one, all those years ago, it scares me as well. Precautions have been made; he only performs on the weekends and a lot less in general. It's still a little scary. But he seems happy at the moment and knowing that I might have something to do with that makes me grin from ear to ear.

And it really helps with the content. Sometimes it also ruins it. Like when he flirts with the camera so much that I really can't post it, deleting the videos right away. Or when he suddenly breaks character and says my name. Definitely deleting that! It only happens when no one else is around, which isn't very often, he is careful enough. And then there are those videos where I am so fucking smitten that I start giggling… and he has that smug face because of it. Also, not gonna go public. But the tibits we make work… really work. It spurs my creativity on even more, as I said… cloud nine stuff.

When Jiyong drags me into a quiet room for the first time during work hours, not quite a broom closet, but you get the idea, I am a little nervous. This is… rock star behaviour that in my life simply never had a place. But instead of trying to get into my pants, he takes my face into his hands and kisses me like that is worth everything he has… while not actually risking anything. What a perfect combination. We stand there and kiss slowly, carefully, almost innocently… and then fuck our brains out at night… if we get the chance. Often enough, we don't. And complain about it plenty. But this is the reality of his life. And mine.

If we find the time though… shit. It's just hard to stop once you start. Only once make-up Noona scolds him for the eye bags he recently sports we try to get at least a bit more sleep, it really is needed.

Maybe it's that, maybe the pressure, maybe just a bug, but two days before the first tour stop in Seoul, I start a fever. I can count the times I have been properly sick since moving here on one hand. There was a 2018 broken leg moment that was pretty dramatic, but apart from that, I don't even get the flu often. Now… I have a fever, my limbs feel like jelly and I've spent the morning on the bathroom floor regretting my breakfast choices. Yesterday was already kinda bad and even though Korean work culture isn't happy about taking time off for any reason… the rules about coming sick to MY work are pretty strict. Because idols can get sick as well. I worked from home yesterday. Tired and weak and frustrated, because there is only so much I can do from my computer. But also feeling like I am missing out. It isn't MY concert, but we all work up to these big events and here I am stuck in bed.

But today I don't even care that much anymore, I think it's the fever, I have not slept longer than two hours at a time last night and time passes in a weird way, slow and fast simultaenously. When I made the mistake of telling my mother, she, of course, let half of my family in Seoul know and today, some auntie is supposed to come by to bring me soup. I haven't seen her in ages and we are not close enough for me to be okay with her seeing me like, in bed, in an apartment that starts to look like I feel. But in the end, I had to accept that I could need some help and texted her my passcode after she kept asking.

I have never been good at asking for help. And I also always had the tendency to downplay whatever I was going through, your average millennial woman basically. It isn't a good habit to have, but one that is hard to shake. And at first, Jiyong believes me because of it, even hardly has the time to ask because he is so busy. I had texted him that I was staying home because of my cold, but he shouldn't worry; it was more to just not make others sick. He had responded that he hoped I would feel better soon and then a little heart emoji. I had smiled at it and only this morning, he had called me, the team already at his place.

“It's not just the sniffles, hm?” Even though my throat hurts when speaking, I have to chuckle because of the way he phrased it. The same cute voice he uses for talking to the cats was now being sent my way, but I don't hate it. I do feel miserable. “No… I guess it's not.” “You should have told me, I would have… I don't know what I would have done, but now I feel like a bad…” Hesitation. “I would like to be there for you, you know?” “That is sweet, but… honestly, I don't think there is much you can do, I just need to rest and not… make others sick. Not make you sick in particular. And also… my aunt is coming by to bring me some food and help me.”

He still doesn't seem happy. I could hear it in his voice. “It shouldn't be your aunt, it should be me! I know you can… order groceries instead of buying them, but I should be the one putting them in the fridge at least.”

The example is oddly specific and funny in a way because I am pretty sure that Jiyong has never been in a position where he puts his own groceries away, whether store-bought or delivered. He has gone straight from teenager to pop star. But the gesture is sweet and I know what he means. Before I would starve, I could get food. But even the thought of carrying bags from my door to the fridge seems a lot right now.

“No, I get it, you are right.” I eventually murmur and lean even further back into my pillow, letting my wall down a little. “That… that would be really nice actually, I would love to have you around, but it's just not a good idea, ok? Just know I am taken care of and… in a couple of days, I am back. I'm just sad I'm missing the concert.” “Well… you will see so much of it on tour, you will grow sick of it in no time.” “I really, really doubt that, Ji.”

No response. “You still there?” “Yeah… It's just… fuck. It feels so damn good when you say my name. It's like I suddenly just… like the word itself a lot more.”

Now, no response from me. “Daisy?” Same effect, I know what he means now about my own name.

“No, I am here just… really… could need a hug right now.” Because he is good with words. And hugs. And because I like him a lot. And because sometimes a simple hug makes everything better, even a fever. Or at least more bearable.

“I'm gonna come over later after the last rehearsal” “No, Ji, you are not, you… just… I am gonna go to sleep, okay? I will drink plenty of tea and have soup later and who knows, maybe by tomorrow I am all better.”

Neither of us believe that. I would be fine - sure, eventually - but it would take its time.

By the time my Imo shows up in the afternoon, I am actually glad to have someone here. She doesn't hold back. Even though we aren't close, she tells me to get up and take a shower while she tidies the kitchen cursing under her breath and warms up some food. Back home, it would have been rude to be so blatant towards someone sick, but I have gotten used to it through that side of the family.

I lean against the shower wall and it really takes my last energy, but it also feels very good. When I step out, she has put on fresh bed sheets because I have sweated through the old ones, she has opened all the windows to let fresh air in and still it smells like rice porridge and yuja tea. When she sees me walking into the room, she smiles and I smile back. Thank her a million times.

I finish half a bowl of food and the tea is so sweet and sticky going down my throat, it all really helps. The bed smells nice and… it isn't long before I am ready for some more sleep. “You get some rest, girl. I will go out and run some errands and then I will drop off some nice fresh fruit before I go home and see how you are doing, yeah?”

Nodding, I already drifting off. My dreams were weird. Abstract, a little scary. When I wake up again, I am confused. The sun is just setting, so time must have passed. And there is a sound outside my open bedroom door, so surely that is why I woke up. Have I really slept from the moment the aunt left until she returned?

I try to sit up a little when suddenly Jiyong appears in the door frame. My eyes opened wide, as if I am having hallucinations. But no, it is really him. Tracksuit pants, a sweater and hair in all directions, like it always does when he has tons of hair products in it and then wears a hat. And a mask.

Right away, he raises both hands. “Look. I am sorry. I know you told me not to come and I get it… But when I tried to call you and you didn't answer your phone and I… maybe… was already in front of the door anyway, I figured I just… let myself in.”

Fuck. Right. He has the door code as well so he doesn't have to wait in front of it, just in case someone notices him.

“I know that all sounds super stalkery and not okay, I am sorry.” I am shaking my head already. But that makes me a little loopy, so I quickly stop again.

“It's alright. I think… I think I would have done the same.” I admit. Not our strong suit, I guess. “But… Ji, seriously. I mean this in the most loving way possible: Can you fuck off, please? I am so damn happy to see you, but… the concert tomorrow…”

It is hard to read his expression. The mask covers half his face, he is too far away for my blurry vision to actually see his eyes properly. And still his body language seems familiar. He is fidgety. I have seen it plenty of times when he gets nervous or uncomfortable. The more people he doesn't know there are around him, the worse it usually gets. Whenever we are walking up to the airport gates, my heart bleeds a little for him. And it's not that bad right now, but it reminds me of it a little bit and I hate it. Because I don't want him to be like that in front of me. Unsure. Because I am sure he gets what I am saying, but he clearly also is here for a reason. His hands grapple with the hat he must have been wearing. “I could just… sit here for a bit?”

And without another word, he sinks down to the floor and just looks over at me like a puppy that craves any sort of affection. Oh, good god. How am I supposed to have the energy to resist this when all I want is for him to crawl into bed with me, get my bugs and then we can spend a couple of days here?

In the end, I just flop to the side, lie there looking over at him. “Fine, I give up, you are a grown ass man.” I say with a sigh, the croak clearly audible in my voice. He sits up a little, a smile reaching to his eyes. “How are you feeling, baby?”

I shrug. “Well… not great, I still have a fever and I am just… so damn tired. But I had some food and a shower… actually, I am kinda glad you didn't see me before because I was sweaty and I smelled.” Now he is the one shrugging. “I wouldn't have minded. You know what I look like after a show. You have to smell that all the time…” We both chuckle. And yet know it's different, sick smell isn't nice. But I believe him.

Smiling, I just look at him for a while. “I am really happy to see you, Ji.” He matches my gaze and then moves his mask down to his chin. I want to protest, but I know it won't stop him. “I am happy to see you, too. I missed you… like…” A scratchy little laugh escapes his mouth, the one I have filmed in cute Insta stories, what feels like a million times. It makes him seem like a mix of Peter Pan and a grandpa, but also so very much simply him. “…so much? I miss you all the time, Daisy.”

Suddenly - probably thanks to the fever - I see him in front of my inner eye. Much younger. Different color hair. A very different expression on his face. And he tells me the opposite. It feels like a lifetime ago - that stupid Christmas party - and it's still hard to understand that that was the same guy - rude, full of himself and holding a champagne flute - in contrast to him, sat on my bedroom floor, eyes full of concern for me, desperate to just see me for a bit, ready to risk quite a bit actually for this. Hard to grasp.

“I missed you too…” I say with a shy smile and move a hand across my face. “One hug? Please…” I hear him say and I am too damn tired to say anything, I am still looking for words when I feel the mattress move under me because he has just climbed onto it. Ji lies down behind me, his now once again masked face appears on my shoulder when he moves both his arms around me. I take a deep breath and with the exhale, it's like all the pressure falls off my shoulders and without me realising, a couple more tears roll sideways down my cheeks.

“I am so glad you are here.” I murmur and put my hand on top of his. Honestly, if he gets sick now, it will be whether I touch him or not.

“Good. I am relieved. I… I think in the past I wasn't the best at… well. Not just boundaries but relationships in general. I don't want to fuck this up. I so badly don't want to fuck this up. I find it hard to understand when… when people want one to do things even though they said no, but at the same time I want to respect what you say…”

The long sentence needs a second to enter my tired brain. “I get that. I think that is hard for everyone, Ji, but I am glad you think about these things. Probably all we can do is try to be honest and… just say what we need. And I do need you… I just wanted to keep you away for professional reasons, but I really wanted you here… you made the right call, okay?”

He nods against my shoulder and holds me even tighter, a small laugh escapes him, tickling my ear. “I was standing outside the apartment for like twenty minutes and didn't know what to do… I had two espressos while I waited for you to call back.”

I chuckle at the thought. His heart is thudding hard against my back, but maybe it's just the coffee.

“Is there anything you need? Can I maybe… wait, the fuck… Why does this bed smell so good? Is this what your bed smells like after you have been sick in it for two days?" His voice sounds almost offended and I get that, but I explain with a little laughter. Auntie magic.

It's incredibly hard not to fall asleep in his arms. And it's even harder to tell him to leave. Ji just tells me about his day, makes me another cup of tea and moves his hand through my hair. Makes me forget that I am sick (well, almost) and that he should be somewhere else, really busy (completely) for a while.

So when the door opens again and Imo steps back in, Ji just looks at me, puzzled and I wake up like from a daze. She is talking loudly before coming in, telling me how incredibly incapable every single person in this city is. Ji shuffles up. But before we can move much farther apart, she has stepped into the room and then just stares.

“Oh, Imo, hello, you are back so soon. My friend came by to bring some more medicine…” Ji jumps up and keeps bowing. It would look funny if I weren't as freaked out. Again, back home, in the States, no biggie. Well, actually, still a little awkward. Here… even in our mid-30s, you never know.

She stares at him for a while. “Good, I have more groceries downstairs. Come with me and carry them up, boy.” Jiyong just bows again and follows her. Only turns around for a second in the doorframe and has an odd mix of panic in his eyes. While I bury my face in my hands.

Great. Worst case… somebody takes pictures of Ji carrying half a month's supply of groceries into my apartment building and tommorrow morning I will have death threads. Best case, I will get a call from my mother in a couple of hours, who the dude in my bed is.

When they return a couple of minutes later, Imo is just basically shouting orders and I hear a steady “nae nae” stream from Ji. Carefully, I get up and watch as Jiyong is reorganising my kitchen drawer, basically, everything Imo wanted to do earlier but thought too exhausting. It's weird and cute.

By the end, Ji looks kinda tired. “Okay, I guess… I will let you say goodbye, but… she really could use some more rest, so don't stay too long.” She tells him as if we are teenagers and Ji just nods and then bows and bows some more.

When my aunt is already on the way to her jacket and shoes, she suddenly stops. Glances at a shelf. And at first, I don't get it. It's where all my work stuff is usually dropped; I haven't touched it in days. And when I see all that G-Dragon merch, some magazines with his face on, I normally don't even connect it to the real person anymore… It's what I see lying around at work every day. But she recognises the face, turns around, studies Ji and then shoots me a bit of a judging look. I think she is aware of who I work for. And who she just found in my bed. But she doesn't say a thing. Damn. Perhaps I don't even need to explain to my mum WHO later… she will do it for me.

The door closes and Ji waits a second, then he turns around. I just walk back into bed and he follows me. “That… wow. She…” “Yeah, I know…” When he sits down next to me, he suddenly looks a bit concerned. “Do you think she will tell anyone?”

I know who he means. And good question, you really never know. “No, just my mother…” I say with a sigh and fall back onto my pillow. Jiyong lies down next to me again and moves some hair out of my vision.

“Well… I am sorry about that, I assume it wasn't the plan to tell her about me…” I think for a second. “Not like this. Eventually… sure. We are close. I want her to know, but…” Awkward. Of course, I want to tell the whole world… well, maybe at least everyone I know about us and how happy I am, but we haven't even talked this out amongst ourselves. And I enjoyed that. It's fluffy and light and I know things will get serious soon enough. So there is no reason to rush.

“Well, maybe I get points at least because she will tell her that even though your boyfriend isn't buff, he carried all the groceries up without complaining.” “You did… but…” I murmur, distracted by the word he has just used for the first time. “I am not your boyfriend. I know. But I hope I will be.” He says with a cheeky smile. There is a hint of insecurity in his eyes, but the way he says it, so forward, feels nice. I turn around and try to read him more. And that in turn makes him a little shy, maybe he thinks he rushed too much?

Two people in their mid-30s using words like boyfriend seems weird in itself…

“Is that so?” “Yes. I officially apply.” I grin. “Application is received and under review. We will get back to you soon.” He pokes my side. “In how many business days?” “We are currently understaffed due to sick leave, but we really appreciate the effort and are positive that…” I start coughing and bury my face in the pillow for a second, mid sentence. When I remerge, I give up the act. “You are the sweetest, you know that?"

He curls into me in a way that I haven't been able to resist ever since he started doing it. “It's all good. I wasn't planning on using your being sick to make you say yes. I just… want you to know what I hope this is when you talk to your mother. So I am not just some idiot your aunt found in your bed.”

I smile at him. “You aren't. You really aren't."

Now he smiles too. My heart feels like it's shaken and it's not just my body giving it a hard time.

Kicking him out is hard, but eventually I do. My bad conscience weighs so hard now, but I am still tired enough to fall asleep before he even texts me he got home.

The next day, I watch the concert via another team member's livestream and try not to be too sad that I am not there. Afterwards, Ji is so hyped, I can tell by the way he sends me the most chaotic texts and voice messages. “It's really happening, Dais, the tour has started.” “I can't wait to travel the world with you!” “Did you see how well that part I kept messing up last week worked out?” “And I hit… well, almost all notes during your song.”

My song. This isn't the first time I've heard about this from him. And I am not sure why I never asked. Maybe because I am embarrassed, I don't get which one is supposed to be my song… Well.

It has to be something older, when we met again last year, he had written all of the songs on Übermensch already and we hadn't been in contact for years. But isn't that true for all of his songs? Theme-wise, I also don't think I can get there…

Before I fall asleep, I look at the setlist. Getting nowhere. I should just ask him. Why don't I? But somehow, there is an eagerness to get there myself.

My eyes get stuck on the number 2014. It's that year. But… I mean, the lyrics… are about an established relationship that breaks apart, so how is that supposed to be about me? I truly love the song, I think it's beautiful in it's sadness, the melody and especially his voice could make me tear up on it's own. But no, that can't be about me. I pout a little, not able to think much longer without yawning again.

"Did you already talk to your mum?" I can't help but smile when that question comes in. "Yeah, she warned me that she thinks you might take drugs, Imo said she heard something." "Oh fuck." He keeps typing but I can't keep it up. "Nah, just kidding, I don't think Imo told her so she doesn't know WHO she found here..." "Evil, Daisy!!" He is still typing. "Doesn't know YET."

Yet. I grin wide.

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Thanks for reading everyone <3 What do we think? :)

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