#I never envisioned being homeless

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

sooooo...buy me a coffee?

Well, I finally did it. With my back against the wall (the temporary place I was supposed to have for about ten days fell through on Monday past, and now I’m facing living in my car starting this coming Monday) I got myself a Ko-fi. Even if I end up in my car for a while (I’m planning for it), I still need funds to pay for gas and food. I currently have $50 to last until next payday (9-29) and I’m afraid to go to the grocery store because the prices are so high now I can get very little.

If you’ve followed me a while, you know it’s taken true desperation to get me to ask for help. And if you can help, you’ll have my eternal gratitude. Thank you in advance for anything you can do!

Buy me a coffee?

[bisaster-energy]

okay what you have to understand is that while against the kitchen floor is a dean song...willard! has cas written all over it

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #1 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #1 - lavender haze​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: In the midst of your college journey, life takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself moving into a "pseudo frat" house with your childhood best friends Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin. The college experience you envisioned seems promising, but as Namjoon and Jimin get caught up in flings, their focus shifts away from you, Yoongi, and everyone else in the house. The strong bond you once shared starts to feel strained, leaving you to question your feelings and changing dynamics. Though, the haze of a single night at a party sets off a chain reaction of emotions that leaves you grappling with a question you never thought you'd ask—could you be in love with all three of them? warnings: pwp, swearing, making out, subtle body worship, penetration, cunnilingus, CONSENSUAL!! sex, nipple play, breast play, overstimulation, mutual orgasm, touch of aftercare, frustration bc guys are dumb sometimes note: thank u to @daegudrama (as always) for beta reading and editing my fics. much appreiciated. this is the first fic series i have written in 10 years (i used to be in the anime/pokemon fandoms lol) so i apologized if it isn't that great, but i will keep improving! note 2: this is also for the yoonminjoon stans !! such an underrated subunit! total word count: 8.3k drop date: august 29th, 2023, 1:00pm pst cross posted on AO3 here | Series Masterlist | #2 →

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October 4 (Thursday)

The morning sun streams through the blinds, gently coaxing you awake. You catch the aroma of sizzling bacon wafting from the kitchen as you continue to fight the urge to sleep in longer.

With a quick stride, you open your door to find your close friends, Yoongi and Jimin, seated at the dining table, enjoying breakfast. Their subtle waves are met with your ecstatic waving. You glance at Namjoon standing near the stove wearing a tank top and basketball shorts. He tends to the bacon in the pan as it sizzles and pops. 

"Joon, could you set aside two pieces for me?" you call out, causing him to jolt as he hadn't noticed your presence in the room due to him being in zen focus trying not to burn everyone’s breakfast.

He sighs, shoulders slumping. "You better hurry and brush your teeth, or I might let Jungkook have the rest once he's out of the shower in a few minutes."

Nodding, you hurry to the second bathroom in your home to prepare for the day, aiming to grab some fresh homemade breakfast before your noon class.

This spacious house has been your shared sanctuary with your childhood best friends – Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Park Jimin – since the start of your second year of college in September. Last year, some older guy friends from your hometown who went to the same college as you lived at the house originally. Then over the summer, your best friends moved in with them to take summer courses and on-campus internships. You got added to the mix when you were desperately trying to find housing as the university waitlisted you in favor of the 29,000 new freshmen they admitted to the campus who they prioritized housing for. After looking at expensive off-campus apartments and sketchy leases, the boys couldn’t bear seeing you struggle and potentially homeless, so they let you live with them in their 4 bedroom home. Your housemate Seokjin gave up his single room, with a bit of hesitation, so you could live comfortably. The rest of the boys share rooms with each other. 

With eight people living together, the house unofficially earns the nickname "Beta Tau Sigma," or the “pseudo frat”, as some people around campus called it. While not officially recognized as a fraternity due to various complicated reasons, the BTS house still became known for its "poppin’ house parties” hosted by your lovely housemate Jung Hoseok last year. 

Your friendship with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin goes back to a little over a decade ago. Namjoon became your next door neighbor as a kid, eventually he introduced you to Yoongi who was a family friend of his, and finally, you all befriended Jimin when he transferred to your middle school. You all remained close during high school. Namjoon and Yoongi, being a year older than you and Jimin, graduated and went to college. Eventually you and Jimin graduated, and the two of you got into the same college a few hours away from your hometown as them and attended together. 

However, moving in with a bunch of men was something you prefer that people didn’t know about you. You wanted to avoid any rumors being created, especially considering the guys living with you are popular among the girls at your campus. If there is something that you don’t miss from high school, it is the petty drama and baseless rumors people make to tear others down. For now, people assume you are living in the dorms with your only female friend: Hwasa. You always think that it’s for the best things are this way. You decide not to think too much beyond that, despite the probability that a few people are catching on to the fact that you probably do live with these guys platonically.

After washing up, you enter the kitchen again, taking a seat next to Yoongi who is engrossed in his Twitter feed. He finally acknowledges your presence.

"Took you long enough, huh? Don't you have Stats at 10?" He quips.

You scrunch your eyebrows at him. “Good morning to you too, Yoongs?” You retort playfully. “No stats today. It’s Thursday so I have Finance at noon!"” You exclaim loudly to the room. 

Groans resonate through the kitchen. Yoongi's teasing backfires, much to his chagrin. Taehyung descends from upstairs, puzzled by the commotion in the room.

“What’s wrong with her finance class?” He asks innocently. 

"There’s nothing wrong with the class, but it's the classmate in that class!" Namjoon sighs, leaning on the counter after placing your bacon and avocado toast plate on the table.

"Lim Jaebeom," Jimin snickers, promptly earning a discreet kick from you under the table. "Ow! Hey! No need to resort to violence! Hey! I’m only speaking facts!” He winces as he holds his knee up and rubs the pain away.

Lim Jaebeom, also known by everyone as JB, is the cute guy you met in your Macroeconomics class last year. He is popular as a member of a real fraternity, Gamma Omega Tau and the professional frat, Kappa Psi Pi (or JYP, as some called it?). Part of both fraternities, he radiates talent as a business major and an underground SoundCloud artist on the side. While your interactions remain class-related, he greets you often outside of class even after the course finished, much to your best friends’ annoyance.

Over spring semester of last year and the initial weeks of the current fall semester, you’ve developed a small crush on Jaebeom. Though when it comes to your love life, it’s been a few years since you’ve had some kind of thing going on. There’s only been two people so far: Wonwoo, captain of the Men’s varsity volleyball team who you slept with once when you boldly asked him if he would take your v-card. You and your best friends were going through an experimental era during your junior year of high school. They teased you a lot about being “innocent” but were left speechless when you told them what you’ve done. They said that was the end of the experimental era. Later on you also found out he’s your housemate Jungkook’s cousin. 

The second guy is Yeonjun. You don’t like to talk about him much, but he was in the same year and you guys talked often (much to Namjoon’s dismay). He was your fake date at your housemate Seokjin's brother's wedding the summer after you graduated high school. One thing led to another and you were sneaky links for a while. It didn’t end well though.

"She's got eyes for JB, but is too scared to make a move," Jimin teases, earning him another kick under the table to which he dodges.

"In case you forgot, it took you a month to see Irene Bae wanted you so badly," Taehyung rolls his eyes while a hint of a smile tugs your lips as you struggle to suppress your laughter seeing him call out Jimin.

The Jimin and Irene power couple relationship goes back to spring semester last year. Taehyung needed Jimin to go on a double date with him to the Psi Gamma Epsilon Formal, which is the co-ed fraternity that Taehyung’s girlfriend Jennie is in. While you have many mixed opinions about Taehyung’s tastes when it comes to women, you hate that he influenced some of those tastes on Jimin. Thus, Jennie introduced Jimin to her friend, Irene (the Sigma Mu Epsilon Campus President) and the rest is history. 

Though, you weren't aware that they were dating until a month ago when they had already been dating for three months. You are not sure how they managed to hide it from people for a while.

“Ya!! How was I supposed to know that getting asked to eat ramen together on a Friday night meant anything BUT eating ramen.” Jimin sighs as he gets up from his chair. “Maybe you should ask Jaebeom out for some ramen.” He playfully suggests, emphasizing Jaebeom's name, sending your face into a blush.

"I'm not interested in sleeping with him!" you protest, cheeks burning. In Korean slang, sharing ramen implies spending the night together. You’d rather romantically share ramen like the spaghetti eating scene in “Lady & the Tramp” than fuck him and ruin your friendship.

“Isn’t that what he’s known for? Sleeping with girls, taking sex polaroids, and plastering them on his frat bedroom wall? Taehyung butts in, since he too, knows of Jaebeom’s lifestyle like everyone else on this campus does. You, of course, are aware of it too, which is why you haven’t bothered to try your chance with him. 

“Exactly why I’m okay being the nice friend saying hi from across campus when he says hi instead of becoming a faceless polaroid in his room of him giving me backshots.” You cross your arms as you roll your eyes at him.

“Please don’t give me mental images of that.” Yoongi finally speaks up, groaning at your words again. You playfully elbow his side at your remark. He covers his face immediately as he feels himself blushing at these thoughts.

“Well, when you decide to get the balls to do something, I shall be here to give you advice. Just let me know.” Jimin says as he grabs his bag from the couch and heads to class with Taehyung, leaving you with Namjoon and Yoongi. 

“Wow, can you believe him? He thinks he can talk big now that he’s dating little Miss Sigma Mu Epsilon’s President Irene.” You let out an annoyed sigh as you take a bite out of the avocado toast Namjoon gave you.

At first you were excited for one of your guy best friends to be in a relationship again after years, but that excitement was short-lived as you noticed Jimins’ absence in the house became more evident. He would either be at his dance club, studying in the library, or spending the rest of his freetime with Irene. Maybe doing all of the above with her. 

When you and your best friends were in relationships or flings in the past, they promised that they would never leave or ignore the group to prioritize those other people first.  And they were always true to their word.

But as of lately, not anymore. While you once were used to having Jimin at home or at the dorm common area with the guys for Friday Night Game Night, this sight was slowly becoming a memory. It’s hard to admit how these subtle changes of seeing Jimin prefer to do other activities saddens you. You eventually decided to bottle up your feelings of sadness, not wanting them to see, and focus on other things filling up your plate.

Namjoon wasn’t paying attention to what you said as he uncontrollably smiles at his phone with a Kakao talk chat with someone pulled up, making your eyes narrow at him. 

“O-Oh, sorry. I was texting Jihyo.” he admits blatantly, before widening his eyes at what he just said. “What did you say?” Namoon glances at you briefly.

“Park Jihyo? Your group project partner slash sex–?” Yoongi narrows his gaze at Namjoon, before he quickly launches to cover Yoongi’s mouth. 

What? Is this seriously another sudden revelation incoming this early in the morning? You didn’t think you’d spiral into a pool of further questioning the future of your friendship with your guy best friends. Especially when it comes to Namjoon dating the campus’ kindest angel, Jihyo. Compared to Irene, you don’t have anything snarky to say about Jihyo. You admit she is better in hundreds of different ways than you. You wonder if your friends’ recent dating or fling escapades are a sign of a bigger issue in your friendship with them. You wonder if Yoongi’s also hiding someone away from your sight.

"So you’re also seeing someone?" Your pout is playful, but a hint of disappointment peeks through. "Don't tell me you're bailing on Friday Night Game Nights just like Jimin…"

Namjoon's response carries a weight of hesitation as he takes a thoughtful pause, considering his next words carefully. "Well, kind of…" His words hang in the air for a moment, a sense of complexity in his tone. "It's complicated... and no, I won't be skipping Friday Night Game Night every time like Jimin... except for this week."

The curiosity in your expression is mirrored by Yoongi's raised eyebrow. “What’s the excuse that you so kindly will be telling Yoongi and I?” you ask, the intrigue evident in your voice.

“Well actually, I may need to borrow the house so I was wondering if you guys could have Friday Night Game Night somewhere else.”

“Why should we go somewhere--” As you begin to protest, an epiphany interrupts your words, causing them to taper off. A realization dawns, connecting the dots between Yoongi's earlier comments and the direction this conversation is taking. “Wait what!? KIM NAMJOON YOU-!” 

“You’re seriously going to sexile everyone in this house?” Yoongi's words burst forth interrupting yours, his laced with a mixture of genuine surprise and a hint of humor. His widened eyes are concealed behind a hand that covers his mouth, almost as if he's trying to stifle his amusement at the sudden request.

Namjoon lets out a chuckle, his expression playful as he confirms, "Potentially! But I'm not sure yet. I might go back to her place, but I wanted to keep my options open so we could..."

Your voice cuts in before Namjoon can elaborate further, a mix of jest and sincerity in your tone, "Okay, okay, okay, I get it! We'll move game night somewhere else then!" The words rush out of you as you shield yourself from whatever details might follow that your ears weren't prepared for. You shoot Yoongi a look, seeking affirmation. "We’ll figure it out..right, Yoongi?"

Yoongi doesn't miss a beat as he follows up with a response laced with dry humor, “Right. I really don’t want to hear my best friend fucking while I’m trying to relax at the end of a stressful week.”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you playfully reprimand Yoongi, your palm meeting your face in an exaggerated facepalm, "Yoongi, please spare us from any more visual details." Your laughter mingles with a hint of embarrassment, but you quickly regain your composure. "But thank you for letting us know, Namjoon..."

Namjoon's easy smile returns, and he jests, "Have fun without me, though. I know Jin and Jungkook will keep things lively without me or even Jimin there."

Even without any truly scandalous events transpiring, an air of awkwardness hangs over the conversation. The remainder of your breakfast passes in silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. Eventually, you rise from the table, making your way back to your room to prepare for class, which looms just an hour away.

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By the time you come out of your room again, only Yoongi and Jungkook are in the living room doing last minute assignments. You assume Namjoon already left for class with Hoseok and also figure Seokjin left even before that. He’s the only person in this house taking 8am classes. 

This is the norm. On Thursdays, you walk with Yoongi to class, as his class is in the same building as yours. Sometimes, Jungkook joins you guys when he procrastinates the hour before class to finish assignments. 

“Are you ready to go? Jungkook’s done now.” Yoongi gets up from the couch already expecting your response to be yes. Jungkook looks up from his textbook to give you a thumbs up.

“Yep, all ready to go.”

The three of you step out onto campus, engaging in conversation that weaves between the events of the week and the anticipation of the impending game night. As you discuss plans, you consider the limited guests—Namjoon engaged with his "complicated" fuck buddy situation, Jimin on his weekend outings with Irene—leaving only you, Yoongi, Jungkook, Hoseok, Jin, and Taehyung for the upcoming Friday Night Game Night. At least you thought it was just the 6 of you.

Jungkook interjects, scratching his head apologetically. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention earlier, but Taehyung and I are going out bowling and drinking with the Woogas on Friday..." His voice trails off with a sheepish smile, his plea for forgiveness evident in his gesture. The Woogas were a group of grad students who were close to Taehyung.

Surveying the group left, you pose a question, preempting any plans that would end up getting canceled. "Anybody else have plans?"

Jungkook takes a bit to contemplate, his mutterings finally clarifying the situation. "I remember Jin hyung texting the gc that he has a Kappa Psi Pi chapter till 9:30 tomorrow—pledging's keeping him busy. He might go out with his frat brothers afterward for drinks. Hoseok is out of town tonight for a competitive dance tournament with the uni dance club."

A collective sigh of resignation hangs in the air as you and Yoongi register the inevitability—it's just the two of you for the upcoming Friday night. Your expressions communicate mutual understanding, as if exchanging an unspoken acknowledgment that it won't be just this one time moving forward.

You bid farewell to Jungkook as he heads off to his own class, then turn to Yoongi with a hopeful glint in your eyes, silently urging him to weave his magic and devise a plan to fill the void left by your absent friends.

"Maybe we could hit that popular bar downtown? What's it called...Arena?" Yoongi suggests, a hint of excitement lacing his words.

A shake of your head expresses your skepticism. "On a Friday night? I heard too many weirdos go at that time, Yoongs.” 

“Then, why don’t we go house party hopping? We haven’t done that since freshman year.” He smirks, as he adds the nostalgic suggestion.

The words "house party hopping" elicit a mix of memories, both good and not-so-good. It's a ritual familiar to college freshmen to excessively drink and dance at multiple parties in one night, but it gets too difficult to do through the rest of undergrad. You, however, have only done this activity of going to multiple different parties in one night, twice. 

The first time, things went smoothly when Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin went to five different house parties on the frat house row. The second time was not so smooth. Contrary to popular belief of Beta Tau Sigma, everyone at the house are light-weights when it comes to drinking, with Yoongi, Jungkook and Taehyung probably being the strongest drinkers of the bunch. That night of house party hopping ended with Namjoon and Jimin getting drunk and losing their student access cards at one of the five houses you went to. Because they couldn’t get into their dorm, you and Yoongi had to carry them back to your dorm and have them to stay at the dorm’s study lounge for the night. At some point, you all almost got caught by the dorm RA making their nightly rounds to make sure everything is good. Yoongi quickly excused all of you being cramped in the small room as “studying for an accounting midterm”, to which the RA didn’t question anything further after hearing the words “accounting” and left you alone for the rest of the night.

Based on that experience, you are reluctant to even try doing that again. However this time, it is just going to be you and Yoongi, the most mature ones in the overall friend group. Or at least you like to think so.

"Well, considering how the last time went..." Your voice trails off, your narrowed eyes revealing your internal debate. "I'll think about it more and let you know."

Yoongi nods at your response and you both say goodbye as you part ways to class.

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Entering your finance class, You secure a seat near the door and the front board, a vantage point that lets you observe the classroom's dynamics. Today, however, your routine is disrupted when someone unexpectedly occupies the seat next to you. 

As you set up your notebook, your gaze lifts, revealing Jaebeom sitting beside you. A faint flutter tugs at your heart, a pulse of anticipation racing through your veins. A steady stream of thoughts races through your mind, echoing, "This is definitely sus." You've consumed enough romance novels and coming-of-age stories to recognize when circumstances take a pointed turn. You've shared casual conversations and greetings with Jaebeom, but sitting next to each other is unprecedented—there's surely more to it.

A subtle "Ahem" draws your attention, and Jaebeom turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours. "Hey, Y/N… do you mind if I sit here today? I left my glasses behind, and I can't really see from my usual spot."

Your reassurance carries a softness as you reply, "Hi, Jaebeom! Of course, no problem." A smile graces your lips, and he returns it, dispelling the suspicions you had entertained. So you guess there’s no special reason for sitting next to you. 

The rest of class goes by smoothly, but you can’t help but to think that Jaebeom has something else to ask you about. The overthinking from your wild imagination is getting to you. As the class concludes, you hurriedly pack your belongings, eager to continue with your day. Yet, before you can make your exit, Jaebeom's voice halts you in your tracks.

"Hey! I've been meaning to ask," his words are loud, receiving attention from your peers, "Do you have any plans for tomorrow? The Gammas are hosting a party, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming."

Bingo. This is exactly what you’ve been waiting for. Not an invite to a party per se, BUT now you suddenly have something to do with Yoongi tomorrow night after being ditched by everyone else. 

“I’m down to go! I actually changed plans with a few friends so I don’t have anything to do tomorrow night.”

Jaebeom's response brings an even wider smile to your face. “Then I’ll see you there! You can bring a friend with you if you’d like.” And with that, you and Yoongi are definitely booked for tomorrow night.

With those words, your plans for tomorrow night are sealed. The newfound excitement has you beginning to wonder whether it’s actually alright to go considering Yoongi feels indifferent towards Jaebeom. You decide to call him about the plan on your way to the library for your daily fix of iced tea.

Dialing Yoongi's number, you initiate the conversation. "You and me, Gamma Omega Tau house party," you declare, your voice laced with anticipation.

His response holds a curious tone. "...So, I'll take that as a yes to house party hopping."

Chuckling, you clarify, maintaining your stance. "Well, we could do that if you're set on it," You explain, continuing your lowkey refusal to repeat that experience. “...but I actually got personally invited to the GOT party by Jaebeom.”

Yoongi's groan resonates through the line, conveying his reluctance but also a willingness to compromise. "If there's free booze and a chance to catch up with some other friends, then count me in."

“That’s perfect!” Excitement in your voice is clear to Yoongi as you both finalize plans for tomorrow night. Perhaps it’ll end up being a fun night for the both of you compared to what everyone else was doing instead. The upset feeling from all the sudden changes continues to linger in your chest, but you brush it away with the hopes of getting wasted on Friday.

❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊ October 5 - (Friday)

Friday comes by like a quick breeze. The day passes in a blur of classes, assignments, and hanging out with Yoongi and the rest of your friends. Evening comes around, and you find yourself getting ready for the Gamma Omega Tau party. You choose a cute yet comfortable outfit consisting of a revealing v-bar black tube top and ripped boyfriend jeans, hoping to strike a balance between looking good and feeling at ease. After a bit of makeup and fixing your hair, you are ready to head out.

You walk over to knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door. He opens the door revealing his outfit: a black tank top, acid-washed ripped jeans, and a black leather jacket to top it off. It definitely makes him exude his signature nonchalant charm. As he greets you with a nod, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement for the night ahead. You guys look so hot and would definitely make the other guys jealous of your totally awesome alternative Friday night plans if they were here.

The two of you make your way to the party a couple blocks away on frat row, the streets buzzing with energy as students get ready to party for the weekend. The Gamma Omega Tau house is alive with music, laughter, and the glow of colorful lights. You both enter the party, and immediately the atmosphere hits you—a mix of pulsating music, chatter, and the distinct scent of alcohol.

Yoongi heads to the makeshift bar in the kitchen to get drinks, while you decide to explore the party on your own. You bump into a couple of familiar faces from classes, exchanging greetings and catching up briefly. Some of these faces included Hwasa, your only dear female best friend who you haven’t seen much since moving out of your shared dorm freshman year. She is a little busy taking shots with who seems to be your old dorm floor neighbors Soyoon and Jieun. But overall, the night is young, and the anticipation of what it could bring is building up inside you.

A little while later, Yoongi returns with drinks in hand—something colorful and sweet for you, and something stronger for himself. You clink your cups together before taking a sip. The music is loud, and bodies are moving to the rhythm all around you. It was a sight to behold—the carefree spirit of college life on full display.

As the night progresses, you find yourself playing various party games, dancing a little with Hwasa, and meeting new people she introduces you to. Yoongi seems to be enjoying himself from a distance, laughing and chatting with a group of guys from his music class. He occasionally watches you from afar to make sure you don’t get lost or that something even worse doesn’t happen. Frat parties can be dangerous after all. It makes you feel a little happy that he does these little things and shows how much he cares about you. More than you thought before. However, there’s a sudden moment in the lively ambience when you start to feel a pang of loneliness. A sense of being adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

Time seems to slip away as you’re lost in the lights, and before you know it, you are on your third drink. The alcohol is starting to take its effect, making you feel warm and a bit more uninhibited. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice. Maybe partying is not what you needed tonight to get your mind off of things. 

And these thoughts are only amplified with the next thing you see. In the corner of the crowded kitchen, you catch Namjoon and Jihyo making out, and your heart races. You suddenly excuse yourself from the group you are chatting with and head towards the front door, seeking some space to clear your head. 

However you stop yourself from bursting out of the open door. Instead, you lean against the wall, trying to steady your breathing. The noise and chaos of the party feel overwhelming now rather than numbing your thoughts from earlier. You clutch your cup as you look around, feeling like an outsider in your own surroundings. It’s in this moment of vulnerability that someone bumps into you, spilling their red jungle juice all over your clothes. You look down at your stained jeans emotionless.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the girl exclaims, looking genuinely apologetic as she hands you some napkins. Your vision is blurring and you can’t tell if you know her or not. Her voice sounds familiar though.

Though, you manage a weak nod letting her know it was fine. It is in that unfortunate moment that you see your crush, JB, appearing out of nowhere walking in your direction. In the several hours you’ve been here this is when he decides to show up?! Your heart continues to race faster as he approaches, his eyes locking onto yours. Not right now, you plead to the gods internally that he isn’t coming towards you. But he does.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" JB asks, his concern evident in his voice as he looks you over.

You feel a lump forming in your throat, not wanting him to see you in this state of vulnerability. Your eyes well up, and you fight to hold back tears. This isn't how you want him to see you, at your lowest point, struggling to keep it together.

Just as you are about to break down, a strong hand gently takes hold of your left arm, pulling you away from JB. You are led into the dimly lit hallway, away from the noise of the party. Not many people looming in this area. The door to the bathroom opens as someone leaves, and the person guides you inside before locking the door behind you.

Your visions starts to focus fully again. And you see…

It’s Yoongi.

His presence is a lifeline you forgot that you needed moments before.

"Y-Yoongi!" The exclamation trembles in the air, a mixture of surprise, relief, and the weight of your unraveling emotions.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you finally let your guard down, the tears streaming down your cheeks. Yoongi is momentarily taken aback by the intensity of your reaction, but swiftly recovers. He extends a napkin from his pocket, offering it as a gesture of support. His features, though, oscillate between concern and puzzlement, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of your turmoil.

You take a shuddering breath, trying to gather your thoughts. The alcohol is making it hard to articulate your feelings, but you manage to explain how seeing Namjoon and Jihyo had triggered a sense of loneliness and panic within you. Jimin dating Irene in what seemed to be a serious relationship also has you spiraling. It all makes you question the stability of your friendships and fear that you are slowly losing the people who once meant the most to you. 

Yoongi listens intently, his gaze unwavering as he lets you pour out your feelings. When you are done, he leans against the sink, his expression thoughtful.

"I get it," he says, his voice soft but steady. "Change is hard, and sometimes it feels like everything is slipping away. But you know, life just keeps moving forward, and people change, I guess. But it doesn’t mean Namjoon or Jimin are leaving you behind."

You nod, sniffing as you wipe away your tears. "I know, but... it's just overwhelming seeing everything unfold."

He reaches out and gently tilts your chin up, meeting your gaze with his warm eyes. "You're not alone in this, Y/N. We're here for you, and we're all figuring things out as we go along."

His words strike a chord within you, a sense of comfort washing over you in the midst of your emotional storm. Yoongi's presence feels like an anchor, grounding you when everything feels chaotic.

Then, without warning, he looks at you intensely and asks, “Since we’re having this conversation, I’m questioning whether you like Jimin based on what you just said…"

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "What? No! Jimin's like a brother to me. A reliable brother who understands me pretty well…” You pause a bit and mumble, “Well at least he used to."

He nods, his gaze unrelenting yet thoughtful, as if he's trying to read between the lines of your response. But then he asks another question that left you momentarily speechless.

"What about Namjoon?"

You hesitate, your mind racing. Your feelings for Namjoon have always been a bit more complex, and you aren't sure how to put them into words. Namjoon was your first friend out of the trio of him, Yoongi, and Jimin. He was 7 when he moved in next door from Korea as his dad got a new job working as a Chemical Engineer for an energy company in the US. You got along well with him as kids who both played Pokemon games and he was the only person you could trade with. He’s also the one who gave you his shiny purple Wailmer from his Pokemon Emerald. Eventually as you got older, you both came to enjoy reading books and art history. What does he mean to you?

Before you can muster a response to that, Yoongi suddenly adds another question, his voice gentle yet persistent. “What about me?”

Your gaze flickers to him, and you find yourself locking eyes with him. Then you quickly look away, focusing on the purple lighting in the bathroom. 

This questions starts to add new thoughts that you hadn’t really considered due to your worries about Namjoon and Jimin. However now, the intensity of this current moment is almost overwhelming, and you feel a swirling mix of emotions within you. Yoongi's proximity, his unwavering gaze, and the weight of his questions are all converging, pulling you into a realm of introspection and vulnerability.

Yoongi seems to sense your uncertainty, your inner struggle. He steps closer, his presence enveloping you. His gaze remains fixed on yours, his face just inches away from yours. The air between you is charged, heavy with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. "You can tell me," he urges softly, his voice a gentle whisper that brushes against your skin.

As you look into his eyes again, your heart races. The alcohol has lowered your inhibitions, and in this moment, everything feels so intense, so raw. You try to form words, but they fail you. Instead, you let your gaze speak for you, letting your emotions flow through the unspoken connection between you. Suddenly Namjoon and Jimin are blurring away to only afterimages in your current state of mind. All you see in great focus is Yoongi right now.

Without another word, Yoongi closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that matters is the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the rush of emotions that swirls between you.

The kiss is a silent confession, a release of feelings that have been building up for far too long. When Yoongi finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath slightly uneven.

"Y-Yoongi..," you whisper, a mix of surprise and wonder in your voice.

Yoongi chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Sometimes, things don't need to be said. They just need to be felt."

As you stand there, locked in each other's gaze, you realize that this unexpected turn of events has brought you closer to Yoongi in ways you didn’t anticipate. It’s a new chapter, a chance to explore something deeper and more meaningful between you.

With a gentle smile, he leans in to kiss you again, and this time, there is no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the promise of a connection that has been there all along, waiting to be acknowledged.

And so, in the dimly colored bathroom of the Gamma Omega Tau house, amid the sounds of distant laughter and music, you and Yoongi quickly unite lips once again.

As the intensity between you and Yoongi grows, the bathroom seems to shrink around you, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a bubble of shared emotion. His lips press against yours with a newfound urgency, a hunger that mirrors the feelings you have both kept hidden for so long. The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and warmth that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him. The touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a wave of electricity through your body, igniting a fire deep within you. Your own hands instinctively move to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

The kiss deepens, a passionate dance of lips and tongues that leaves no room for doubts or reservations. Yoongi's fingers trail up your back, the sensation making your breath hitch. The world outside that bathroom seems distant, irrelevant, as your focus narrows down to the connection between your bodies and the raw emotion that flows between you.

A soft moan escapes your lips, a sound that seems to fuel the fire burning between you. Yoongi's lips leave yours, trailing a path of heated kisses down your jawline, his warm breath sending shivers across your skin. His hands move to your hips, pulling you against him, and you can feel his own desire pressing against your abdomen.

With a mix of urgency and tenderness, he captures your lips once more, pouring every unspoken word and hidden longing into the kiss. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly as his lips explore your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, each touch, each sensation sending ripples of pleasure through your body.

The soft fabric of your clothes seems like an obstacle now, an unnecessary barrier between your skin and his. Yoongi's fingers deftly work at the buttons of your tube top, his touch leaving a trail of fire along your exposed skin. Your breath hitches as his lips find the sensitive curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin gently, causing a shiver to course through you.

In a moment of boldness, your hands move to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal his bare chest. Your fingers trace the contours of his muscles, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. His lips find yours once again, a hungry, fervent kiss that speaks of the intensity of your emotions.

With a skillful touch, Yoongi lifts you up onto the bathroom counter, the cool surface sending a shock through your body. He stands between your legs, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he gazes into your eyes.

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

You can only respond with a breathless nod before his lips crash against yours again. Not fully understanding the words that just left his mouth. The kiss deepens, a mixture of passion and tenderness that leaves you dizzy with sensation. His hands explore every curve of your body, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

Your own hands aren't idle either, roaming his chest and back, reveling in the sensation of his skin against yours. The heat between you was undeniable, a magnetic pull that draws you closer with every passing second. And in that bathroom, amid the swirling emotions and the touch of your lips, you feel an unspoken promise taking root—a promise of something more, something real and beautiful.

The outside world fades into insignificance. The party, the noise, the worries about Namjoon and Jimin and everyone else—all of it melts away, leaving only the two of you and the intensity of this moment. As you hold onto each other, lost in the depths of your feelings, you know that this is a turning point that will permanently alter your friendship with Yoongi.

As the kisses between you and Yoongi continue, the electricity in the air grows stronger, pulling you both further into the depths of your shared desire. Every touch, every caress is a testament to the unspoken connection that has been building between you for so long. It’s as if the universe has finally aligned, allowing you to explore the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface.

A soft, almost desperate, sound escapes Yoongi's lips as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto yours, and you can see the raw emotions swirling within them.

"We should... we should get out of here," he murmurs, his voice rough with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves course through you. This is a pivotal moment, a decision that could potentially change the course of your relationship. With a shared understanding, you both turn away from the party scene and make your way through the crowd towards the exit.

The cool night air hits you as you step outside, a welcome contrast to the heated intensity of the party. Yoongi's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as you walk side by side down the dimly lit streets. The silence between you is charged with anticipation, every step bringing you closer to a new chapter in your story.

When you finally arrive back at the house, the atmosphere is different—quieter, more intimate. Namjoon didn’t come use the house like he said he would yesterday, you briefly recall. Maybe that’s a good thing. The GOT party is still in full swing, he is there with Jihyo, but you and Yoongi are in your own world here with no one to stop what is happening. The journey up the stairs to your shared house feels like a blur, your heart racing in anticipation of what is to come.

Once inside, you both head straight to your bedroom. The air is thick with tension, the unspoken yet silly question hangs in the air: Is this really happening? As you close the door locking it behind you, the outside world fades away, leaving only the two of you in the cocoon of your own space.

Yoongi turns to you, his gaze searching yours for reassurance. Without a word, you step closer, closing the distance between you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you gently against him. The touch of his body against yours sends a shiver of electricity through you, a reminder of the desire that has been building between you.

His lips find yours again, a kiss that holds all the pent-up longing and emotion that have been simmering beneath the surface. The taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against yours, is intoxicating. His hands roam your body with a reverence that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With each kiss, each touch, the world around you fades away, leaving only the intensity of the moment. The bed is just a few steps away, an inviting sanctuary where you could explore the depths of your connection in private. Without breaking the kiss, you take his hand and lead him towards the bed, your heart pounding in anticipation.

As you stand at the edge of the bed, your eyes meet Yoongi's, a silent agreement passing between you. With a mixture of urgency and tenderness, you begin to undress each other, the air heavy with the weight of your shared desire. Yoongi's touch is gentle, his fingers tracing every curve of your body as he reveals the skin beneath your clothes.

Soon, you are both standing before each other, bare and vulnerable, yet completely unburdened by the weight of your emotions. You shyly stare down at Yoongi’s dick, admiring its pink, veiny appearance. It looks very girthy, potentially filling to the core. You're embarrassed to admit you might have imagined Yoongi naked before. When you were a middle schooler curiously imagining bodily differences between you and your male friends. But now seeing his beautiful body before you brings some excitement to your soft skin, some heat rushing through your core and nearly down your thighs, onto the floor. Your mouth suddenly dries and you feel self-conscious that your expression may be as plain and eager as it might be. He clears his throat, but that makes him more embarrassed. You bite your bottom lip, unsure of what to do.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Yoongi's lips find yours once more, a kiss that speaks of promises and possibilities. With a gentle push, he guides you onto the bed, his body following yours as the kiss deepens.

The softness of the sheets beneath you, the heat of Yoongi's body against yours—it is a sensory overload, a symphony of sensations that leaves you breathless. You feel the cold sweat of his skin on yours as your bodies press together. His lips are against your jaw and your hands are exploring his body as much as you can with your legs around his hips. He climbs down to your mound and opens his mouth letting his warm, wet tongue lap over your clit. One of Yoongi's hands finds purchase on your hip to help you move with him while the long fingers of his other hand tease your enterance before pushing inside. His hot breath on your clit and his fingers inside you makes you want to beg for more. But the sensation is so intense it has rendered you speechless, the only noise to leave your mouth is a choked, muffled groan that only urges him further.

His tongue on you feels too good and you can only let him explore. You are enjoying the sensation and the way his fingers play your body like an instrument. You let out a loud gasp when you cum, your whole body arching towards him as pleasure washed over you, your thighs tightening around to his back. You feel your insides clench and throb as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Yoongi smirks at you for a second as he lifts his head, removing his fingers from inside you. He climbs up your body until he reaches your lips. Your hand wraps around the back of his neck and you kiss him with fervor. You taste yourself in his mouth and it makes you hungry for more. You feel the pressure in your abdomen again, desperate for more. His body is hard, but not to the point of being uncomfortable. It’s a gentle pressure, a delicious tension that makes you want more. 

"Y-Yoongi... I need more.." You whimper against his mouth, your tongue running over his bottom lip before you pull away and look into his eyes. "Please, I need more..."

"I've got you, angel." He whispers reassuringly before he moves away briefly to retrieve the condom he keeps handy in his wallet in case he ever needs it. The new nickname catches you off guard as he usually tends to call you Sunshine unless you’re having a serious conversation, like earlier. However you kind of like this name.

He opens the package with his teeth and rolls the rubber on himself. You whimper when you feel the head of his cock press against you. He slowly pushes inside, but it’s enough to make your head spin. His length fills you perfectly and you can feel yourself pulsate around him. He makes his way slowly inside you, pushing deeper until he is completely inside you. He then rests his forehead against yours. You look into each other's eyes and the intensity of his gaze is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"You're doing so well for me," He speaks softly, his voice hoarse with arousal. His praises pull a moan from your lips you can't supress.

He slowly pulls out then pushes back in watching as his cock disapears inside you. He pulls out again and does the same thing. His thrusts become faster with each time he pushes back inside. As your moans become louder, his thrusts become more eager. He adjusts himself until he finds a position that has his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, your legs lifting over his hips and your hands roaming his body to keep yourself grounded.

Yoongi's leaves small kisses along your neck and down to your breasts as he continues to fuck you. He acts carefully with each action he takes, and makes a point to watch your reaction for the slightest sign of discomfort. He never stops praising you, whispering how good you were for him and how much he loves having you like this, taking all of him. His sultry low voice is making you even more sensitive and it’s a bit overwhelming, but it somehow helps make your depressing thoughts from earlier at the party disappear. With him, you felt safe and cared for.

His hands come to cup your breast and you cry out as your body arches towards him. He keeps one hand cupping your breast and takes your nipple between his fingers and gently pinches it, eliciting a softer whimper from you. 

You pull Yoongi against you closing the gap between your bodies, your fingers grip his hair tightly as you cry out, your insides clenching around him. Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm washed over you once again. He fucks you through your orgasm, and when your legs relaxed over his hips, he keeps pushing inside you. The sensation makes you want to cry from overstimulation, but at the same time you beg for more. His cock inside you feels too good, the pleasure is too much. You don't know what to do with your body or if you should be doing something at all. Your hands find their way up his forearms and hold on to them tightly.

"Do it," You whisper intimately. "Cum for me, Yoongi..."

Your words are added motivation for him to do just that. As he moves, his thrusts pushing deeper inside you, a cascade of sensations courses through both your bodies. Your back arches instinctively, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that envelops you. He responds by lowering himself, his forehead meeting yours in an exquisite intimacy that intensifies the connection between you two.

Amidst the whirlwind of ecstasy, a thought flits through your consciousness—a moment of profound gratitude for the intoxicating sound of Yoongi's moans. It's a melody you never envisioned hearing, a symphony of vulnerability and shared pleasure that resonates deep within you. This unexpected harmony adds a new layer to your connection, stoking the flames of desire and amazement that consume every inch of your being. It leaves you feeling content and relaxed.

Yoongi's body shudders against yours, his moans gradually subsiding into contented sighs. With a gentle sigh of satisfaction, he slides his cock out and shifts on the bed, rolling over to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in tandem, the rhythm of your breaths slowly synchronizing as you find yourselves tangled in the aftermath of passion.

You both move again, laying side by side. Both of you catch your breath, the world around you receding into a hazy background as your gazes lock. Eyes that have seen each other's vulnerabilities, laughter, and shared moments now reflect a new layer of intimacy that words could never capture. 

The lingering cocoons you both in a silence that speaks volumes. It's Yoongi who takes the initiative to pierce through the quiet, his voice carrying a breathless quality that mirrors the aftermath of your passion.

"How are you feeling now?" His words hang in the air, delicate yet heavy with unspoken meaning. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and concern, a testament to his attentiveness even in the midst of his own unraveling.

A playful smile tugs at your lips, your voice laced with a hint of mischievousness as you respond to his inquiry. "Never better," you answer, your words bathed in the soft notes of a giggle that dances between you.

His laughter echoes yours, a harmonious symphony of shared joy that envelops the space between you. It's a sound that transcends the physical, a connection that binds you beyond the realm of touch. In his laughter, you sense a quiet affirmation—a declaration that the bond you've nurtured extends beyond the passionate moments, into the realm of comfort, friendship, and a connection that defies categorization.

As the night wears on and the intensity of your connection slowly ebbs away, you find yourselves wrapped in each other's arms, your bodies intertwined in a tender embrace. Yoongi's touch is reassuring, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin as you lay together in the quiet darkness.

"I want you to know," Yoongi's voice was soft, his breath tickling your ear, "that no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you. You mean a lot to me, and I don't want you to ever doubt that."

His words warm your heart, a balm to the insecurities that have been lingering in the back of your mind. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, and valued—emotions that have been elusive for so long.

"I feel the same way," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been there for me, Yoongi, and I'm grateful for that."

The quiet moment between you is filled with unspoken understanding. It is a pact, a promise to stand by each other's side no matter what challenges lay ahead. In this moment, the weight of your fears seemed to be lifted, replaced by a sense of comfort and reassurance.

But the hours drift by, and as the night grows deeper and the two of you grow more sober, the lingering consequences of your actions begin to cast a shadow over your thoughts. The warmth of Yoongi's embrace can't dispel the nagging worry that what you’ve done could have far-reaching ramifications.

It was the alcohol that further fueled your doubts, the liquid courage dulling your ability to rationalize. In the haze of your tipsy stupor, you begin to wonder if the intensity of the night is a result of the moment, the shared emotions, or simply the effect of alcohol clouding your judgment.

Despite Yoongi's assurances, the fear of what could come next gnaws at you. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins the friendship that has been the foundation of your relationship? The questions spiral in your mind, a whirlwind of doubt and uncertainty that refuses to be silenced.

In an attempt to push those thoughts away, you cuddle closer into Yoongi's chest. It is a fleeting distraction, a way to drown out the voices of doubt that echoed in the back of your mind. The feeling of Yoongi’s warmth becomes a welcome distraction from the complex emotions that threaten to overwhelm you.

-

-

A/N: HELLO! Did you like the first chapter?! would it be crazy if i told you I had been planning this fic since 2021 but never got the chance to really delve into it until right now?? Well that's exactly what happened. I'd love to hear your feedback on this fic! pls reblog and like if you enjoyed! I am currently working on chapter 2 and bits of chapter 3, so I hope to get it done by early/mid-September, so please look forward to it!

[dee-writes-smut]

What Once Was Crumbled, Will Be Rebuilt Ten Times Stronger (Prologue)

SUMMARY Tenko Shimera was your best friend, the fire in his eyes fueling your days, until he was gone.

CONTENT WARNINGS death, depictions of homeless children, mentions of abuse, loss, and grief. For the sake of the series (and my conscience), all characters are aged up while still following the plot of MHA. In other words, think of UA as a college rather a high school.

AUTHORS NOTE my love for My Hero Academia is something that I have kept carefully hidden from this platform considering the amount of toxicity surrounding the fandom, but this story idea has swept me up and I really want to share it with you guys. So, I have decided to say fuck it and post it. Happy new series, my darlings! I hope you’ll stick around and get swept up with me.

SERIES MASTERLIST

You had known Tenko Shimura since you were a child, a bond that had grown unbreakable over the years. He was your childhood best friend, the quiet and reserved boy who seemed out of place among the more boisterous children. Yet, beneath that calm exterior, you saw a fire in him, a burning intensity that mirrored your own. His fire was one of hate and anger, a raging storm that contrasted sharply with the deep, unsettling fear that fueled your own ambitions.

Despite his quiet demeanor, Tenko had a unique ability to reassure you. In his presence, you found a strange sense of comfort, as if his anger could temporarily quell your fears. Those moments, fleeting as they were, provided a brief respite from the anxieties that plagued you. Yet, no matter how comforting those moments were, they always ended the same way: Tenko being dragged back home, leaving you to face your fears alone. 

Your memories of those warm summer days are vivid, filled with dreams and schemes of a brighter future. You and Tenko would sit for hours, plotting and fantasizing about the day you both might become heroes. You envisioned yourselves changing the world, making a real impact. Those dreams were your escape, a shared vision that kept you both going through the challenges of your childhood. 

In those days, the world was a place of infinite possibilities. The future was a canvas, and you and Tenko were determined to paint it with your dreams. You believed that together, you could overcome anything, that your combined strength and resolve would be enough to conquer any obstacle. The bond you shared was more than just friendship; it was a partnership forged in the fires of ambition and fueled by the desire to make a difference. 

As you both grew older, Tenko’s fire only grew brighter and harsher. He renounced the world that caused him so much torment and pain, his dreams slowly shifting from idealistic visions of change to fantasies of destruction. Tenko wanted to burn everything down and revel in the screams of suffering, his anger turning into a desire for vengeance against a world that had wronged him. 

Your path, however, took a different turn. Despite the hardships you faced, you clung to your dreams, even on those cold nights spent sleeping on benches in parks or hidden behind disgusting dumpsters in alleyways. In the shadows of the city, you found strength in your vulnerability. Every harsh experience, every cold night, and every moment of loneliness forged you into someone determined to make a difference. You saw the world’s cruelty firsthand and vowed to fight against it, not by destroying it, but by changing it from within.

Comfort was a foreign concept to you. You had never felt the gentle caress of a mother or heard the deep belly laughter from playing with a father. Your life began in an alleyway that looked like any other dark alleyway in the city—cold, ruthless, and haunting. 

You had met Tenko when he dared to run away from home one fateful day. He found you on a playground bench, shaking you awake with a mixture of curiosity and concern, asking if you were dead. When you confirmed that you were alive, he smiled at you—genuinely smiled—a rare warmth that you hadn’t experienced before. He tugged you off the bench and into the playground, where the bark chips bit into your bare feet. You had outgrown your only shoes years ago, and each step left small streaks of blood behind, but you ignored the pain. 

Tenko was animated, talking excitedly about a game he wanted to play. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious, a stark contrast to the indifference you were used to from others. No one had ever noticed you before; they simply went about their day, oblivious to the child shivering on a park bench. But Tenko saw you. He acknowledged you, pulled you into his world, and gave you a taste of what it felt like to be seen and valued. 

It was that day, amid the bark chips and bleeding feet, that Tenko Shimura became more than just a boy who ran away from home. He became your best friend and your hero. His smile, his warmth, and his willingness to reach out to you forged a bond that would shape your life in ways you couldn't yet comprehend. From that moment on, Tenko was a beacon of hope and companionship in your otherwise harsh and lonely existence. 

Everything had changed one cold night in October. By this time, you and Tenko were inseparable. His itching had worsened over the months, but what truly bothered him wasn’t the itching itself. It was his mother smothering him in cream and offering false sincerities. He had tried many times to get his mother to let you stay after he was found and forced home, but once bruises started appearing on his skin, he refused to ask again. The dark marks marring his soft skin grew more frequent, a silent testament to his hidden suffering. You tried to ask him about it once, but he became very quiet, and his itching grew so intense that he started to bleed. Since then, you assumed he wasn’t ready to share and let it drop. 

It was a particularly harsh night when you lost your best friend. You stayed close to his house, having set up your makeshift home in an alleyway about two blocks away, curled tightly under a thin sleeping bag to ward off the cold. In the middle of the night, a loud crash was quickly followed by the ground shaking beneath you. Despite the maturity you had been forced to develop in your time alone, you were still a child, so you ran to Tenko’s home seeking comfort. But all you found was rubble. The ear-splitting crash and the shaking ground were caused by his home collapsing. Your small hands pushed and pulled at the debris, desperately trying to save your friend, sobbing and heaving as you searched all night long. You were too weak, too young to make any impact on the devastating collapse. 

That night, amidst the tears and cries of agony as you cut your small hands and knees on the rubble, you vowed to become a hero. No matter what it took, you would not allow another person to lose a best friend the way you had. The memory of Tenko, the boy who had seen you, acknowledged you, and become your hero, fueled your determination. His smile, his warmth, and the bond you shared would forever be the driving force behind your quest to make a difference in a world that had taken so much from you. 

[terrence-silver]

Would Terry be a cat person or a dog person?

---

I mean, just aesthetically speaking alone, I can see why everyone widely imagines Terry Silver as a cat person. (Bond villain with a fuzzy, white Angora on his lap, smoothing her thick, elegant fur while he plots World Domination) but on the other hand, it is even more easy to envision him as a dog person purely because he admires the animal's innate natural devotion that tends to override all sense; something few or no people are capable of ever replicating to the degree an animal with animal instincts could, except maybe himself. Yep. Terry Silver knows nobody who has the loyalty of a hound except himself and he both relates to the animal and in odd ways, perhaps, resents the animal, because a dog holds up a mirror to him and says 'This is you.' and the experience of that is visceral, baffling and exposing, seeing as how Terry is genuinely pushing back deadlines, schedules and leaving everything behind as he happily and willingly goes performing extreme (and often ethically questionable) acts of service for those he deems his, but at the same time, the fact that someone as power hungry, ego driven and control oriented as himself enjoys being unscrupulously devoted to select few others to the degree he does is a baffling thing to say the least. It is contradictive. Shouldn't be a thing. Yet it is.

Man probably never owned a dog.

Doesn't intend to. Doesn't want to.

Chances are he cares for cats just as little in the practical sense.

But, he sees a dog snarling, barking, fighting off entire gangs of bigger dogs, following its human wherever it goes, snuggling up to him to keep him warm and dying next to its owner when it could've easily left and minded its own survival, maybe somewhere out on Skid Row or the more run down parts of LA through where Terry has his driver intentionally chauffeur his limousine to flex on the poor when he feels particularly sadistic and meanspirited, only to catch the image of a skinny, malnourished hound starving next to its homeless master out on the pavement; the image of which is something Terry loathes to see, going as far as possibly mocking it to his driver to cover up his true feelings on the matter with a whole lot of judgement and bravado, because fuck sake, he'd do the exact same thing too. The words For everything you need, your whole life, always immediately come to mind and Terry might think that if John Kreese was a sick, abandoned dog dying on the street and there was no chance to ever save him or persuade him to allow himself to be helped, senselessly proud as he is, Terry might go out there and die next to him too. Here he is, having everything in the world and envying a homeless man's loyal, skinny dog.

Terry forces himself not to think about that.

Yet how can he not when it is the foundation of his entire being?

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 46 - The Hacienda's Fever (Part 1)

AKA Kerubim Crepin's Divorce Ballad

Kerubim and Simone besties moment number 84593845345.

This episode is so meta for making Kerubim fucking hate a breakup song and in response singing an even worse one.

I don't think I need to point out that, very likely, 50-90% of this episode is some shit Kerubim is making up on the fly as he sings to Joris and Simone.

This is less telling of what actually happened at that fucking club, or whether The God Ecaflip Himself was there that night, — and more telling of his divorce issues.

His dance is too well animated. I can't believe I had to rewind to watch it two times (while withstanding the "singing")

And it has to end with this ass shot each time. I can't do this anymore.

It is tempting for me to assume that this episode takes place after Ecaflip city.

The clues for that interpretation being: The lyrics, her hairstyle, and the fact that he keeps apologizing for some betrayal that we never learn about.

This would point to the fact that, perhaps, she regained her memories, and left him, — and then he had to win her heart back, and they got together again (with this being an idealized depiction of what happened), but eventually, it became too much, and she left him for real.

That would mean that their break-up was a long time coming after Ecaflip city, even if they did try to make things work after she regained her memories, and would line up perfectly with the tenets 1, 4, 5, and 6 of divorce theorising.

She left sad, and unlike many other times, without any anger for Kerubim.

She left Luis with him to watch over him.

She also left Luis because he couldn’t go with her, but that could mean many things.

She left after Ecaflip City, obviously, and at that time, their relationship seemed the healthiest. (Well, as healthy as it could be.)

Unlike all the other times, Kerubim didn’t go searching for her. It seems this separation was final in a way no other was, and there had to be a reason that he didn’t go and try to make up. An unsolvable issue.

Both Luis and Kerubim blame Kerubim, and the first one uses this to make the second one angry.

But thinking about this a bit deeper, — it is just as likely, if not more likely, that Kerubim simply goes into a sad-ass vent song on his post-divorce issues in the middle of that story and never gets back on track for the rest of the episode.

He is singing all of this out loud, after all. There isn't as much of an emphasis on accurate storytelling, when all you're thinking about is singing.

The lyrics would... certainly fit that.

Though it could be a combination of both. Perhaps it is after Ecaflip city, — but a lot of lyrics are tinted by his present regrets, with him blaming himself for not saving their relationship somehow.

Perhaps he is envisioning a world where simply singing a Cooler song, all about how sad he is, at Da Club could have fixed everything.

Or maybe I am fucking insane for reading into this.

His poor homeless orphan ass did NOT go to school or wear glasses. He is making SHIT UP for rhyme's sake. I HATE his ass. Anyway, that book in his hands may say "ERER", or "FRFR", or perhaps "RLRL". It's way too small for me to really tell.

It doesn't seem to be "KEKE", at least.

Chances are, Indie, who has known Lou for as long as Kerubim has, is still her friend even after all the romantic tension disappears from between them.

And I think if he knew about Kerubim's fucky wucky in the Ecaflip city, he would not feel kindly about it. It would probably completely undo the friendly rivalry and mutual respect they managed to develop over the years.

Keke is making more shit up, considering this has never happened, but it does tap a little bit into the "he thinks he's entirely to blame, and Lou isn't" thing ("I was so clueless") and "he has self-worth issues" thing ("So afraid they'd like him less").

Yet another clue towards "this episode is a vent for him" theory.

I can't stand him. I can't stand Joris either.

Truly said like a man who developed clinical depression and hoarding tendencies, opened a shop, ruined his shop, and then went to wars for fun after this divorce, before adopting a kid to love him instead.

Men will do anything but go to therapy.

[rigginsstreet]

Something about robins season 4 wardrobe bothers me and it’s not even a grievance with the wardrobe department or anything I’m willing to admit it’s probably just my own desires for the character but in season 3 when we see her with her converse all written over and her chipped nails and smudged eyeliner and messy hair I envisioned her personal wardrobe reflecting that. Being more messy and grungy and tattered and loose and her street clothes on the show just seem too … put together.

Like don’t get me wrong I think it’s very slay of Robin to be in suspenders and blazers and dressing very masculine but it also just reads how straight people think lesbians dress I don’t know. There’s no personality there for me it all feels very off the rack too put together. The robin in my mind I guess is more punk leaning in terms of aesthetic I would’ve liked to have seen that but also… lmao I know this show would never dress a female character like that. The closest we got was kali and her crew and it was because they were basically homeless

But this has been a problem I’ve had with many big pop culture shows. The clothes never feel lived in there’s no character. And unless your show is about super rich people or high fashion plays a key role, your clothes should feel like normal people clothes, every day wear.

Again it’s not like robins clothes are BAD. It’s just I wish they went in a different direction and tried a little harder

[jalpari-spouts]

wei wuxian is not an oblivious fool, there is a deeper reason he is ignorant of lan wangji's feelings; in this essay i will...

Disclaimer: all of this is just my personal interpretation.

TLDR; Wei Wuxian believes he is unworthy of love, that it is hard to love him, and he doesn’t want to burden anyone with himself.

There are three main traumas that are probably so deeply ingrained in the fiber of his being that Wei Wuxian might not even realize that he's carrying that emotional baggage with him. As always, these three issues stem from his formative experiences as a child since he was roughly six years old to well into his teenage years.

The sudden death of his parents when he was only around six years old.

Having to fend for himself as an orphan on the streets of Yiling for almost three years until Jiang Fengmian found him.

Being adopted by the Jiangs and then becoming the 'reason' for a lifelong conflict within the family.

One. Sudden loss of parents.

The death of Wei Wuxian's mother and father was sudden. As per canon, they died during a night hunt unexpectedly. Given that his father, Wei Changze, had left the Jiang clan to elope with his mother, Cangse Sanren, who was a rogue cultivator with no affiliation to any clan or sect (as she was an orphan herself and had left Baoshan Sanren's mountain and thus could not return there), this left Wei Wuxian quite literally, orphaned and homeless.

No matter how much one tries to understand and accept such a misfortune as just that – a misfortune – and not something that was their fault or something they deserved; the baggage stays, usually in the form of abandonment issues.

The abandonment issues could lead to not wanting to get too attached to people for fear of being abandoned again. It also develops the harmful mentality that all people will leave eventually because he has bad luck or because he doesn’t deserve that happiness or because he is just not meant to have such blessings.

Two. Living as a street orphan.

Wei Wuxian spent around three years, from the age of six to nine years old, as an orphan on the streets of Yiling — fending for himself, diving into dumpsters for scraps of food, surviving every season in his tattered clothes, fighting off dogs that probably thought he could be their next meal because surely such a feeble child wouldn't live longer than a few more hours in the frigid snow.

Such trauma, especially at that young age, is bound to leave deep scars in someone's psyche. Trauma manifests in different manners; loss of memory is one such way. People who have experienced trauma are known to either block out those memories entirely or disassociate from a large chunk of them.

Wei Wuxian jokes that he has always had bad memory. But it's true. He does. And one of the reasons is his childhood trauma. And now, because of that, he doesn't remember a lot of his childhood, only vaguely remembering a few bare details. The baggage of not remembering his parents and what a happy family is like, makes it harder for him to believe he can have that – because what you can’t even envision, you can’t begin to believe in. He just doesn’t remember what unconditional love and a harmonious family truly felt like for him and so can never truly reach out to take that for himself.

Three. Adoption into an unhappy home.

His adoption into the Jiang family was riddled with issues like conflict with the maternal figure, conflict between both parental figures, rumors and gossip mills, being better than the actual future clan leader and always being compared to him, being taunted by the “son of a servant” label anytime he was deemed wrong or caused an inconvenience.

No matter how much he says he didn’t care or no matter how much he smiles and shrugs, such an environment still has an impact. Especially for someone like Wei Wuxian who is already carrying the previously mentioned baggage.

Wei Wuxian always felt like a guest in the Jiang residence and a burden on the Jiang family and therefore felt like he owed them for everything. His actions make it very clear that he feels that he needs earn a place in the clan, in the house, in the family. He thinks he needs to be of value, to be useful, in order to receive their love and affection. Sometimes, he thinks his use is just to be a punching bag for Jiang-furen. And he was okay with that too.

This is not to say that Wei Wuxian didn't consider them his family. He did. It's just that his definition and understanding of his family by this point was already torn and twisted.

Important side note: Wei Wuxian did truly, from the bottom of his heart, love Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He always tried to forge a strong bond with them, partially because he genuinely loved them and saw them as siblings. But partially also because he didn’t want the conflict to pass onto the next generation and continue. As the Yunmeng trio grew up together, they truly did form that bond. Wei Wuxian truly did allow himself to accept Yanli's unconditional motherly love, to rely on her, to make demands of her. He let his inner child, that had been deprived of all these things, reach out to Yanli and hold onto her tight. Which is why the fate of the Yunmeng trio was the saddest part of this whole saga. And also why, when it all went downhill for Wei Wuxian, his shijie's death was the final trigger for his own.

thus, therefore, thence...

Wei Wuxian had a hard time accepting people’s love. 

Speaking from experience, childhood abuse and trauma does that to a person. You feel like a burden when you want something, when you express something, when you need something. You don’t want to push your luck and try and get more than what they’re giving. You don’t believe they will stay. You basically apologize for your entire existence if you feel they are getting inconvenienced by you and you go out of your way to eradicate the problem you think you are the cause of.

A lot of Wei Wuxian’s insecurities are embedded so deep within his soul and are so ingrained in his mentality that even he doesn’t know it sometimes. Wei Wuxian looks up to Lan Wangji, he respects him, he likes him, he wants his attention, he wants his friendship, maybe more. But he never truly acknowledges what else he might want from him or what else Lan Wangji might be willing to give.

He isn’t oblivious. He is ignorant.

Oblivious means that he is aware of it and actively ignores it. Whereas the latter means he is just genuinely unaware. Because Wei Wuxian absolutely cannot fathom the possibility of being the recipient of such love, that he could have the chance to have a real family again; because he isn’t worthy of any of it. He is just paying his debts and making sure he does the right thing, helping others and being of some use. Anything beyond that is something Wei Wuxian has forgotten how to believe in, how to reach out for, how to accept.

In conclusion, Wei Wuxian isn’t some dumb boy who is oblivious to something that is very obvious (allegedly, but that’s for another essay). He just simply has too much baggage and trauma to think something like that could even exist for him to just reach out and take.

Thankfully, by the end of the story...he does realize this. They both do.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Go stream every MDZS adaptation!

<meta musings masterlist>

[jellorat]

Nightmares

I have PTSD from being a homeless teen in the 80s and having a horrific and violent upbringing. I used to have shockingly horrifying dreams, and I find writing them out helps.

I had a few things going on today. I had therapy, got a Covid booster yesterday, and I have a small fever today, and for reasons I can't explain, we watched this youtube video:

This is a good historian review of mostly historically accurate battle scenes. My wife does a youtube channel going over battles of the American Civil War and WWI, and I like history.

However, all these factors together did not do well for me. After I watched this, I went to bed because I was feverish and woke up with the following dream.

Trigger Warning: Death and war.

I woke up from a very very clear dream. It wasn't so much a war dream, but the aftermath. I was the vicar somewhere in Scotland or Ireland, or somewhere over there. It was an amalgamation of the first and second world wars.

I was in the churchyard digging graves. There was so many dead, and my wife had died in the bombing. I had laid out my wife next to four young soldiers. The soldiers were in their teens. They looked so young. 16-18 in age. I had them arrayed out around my wife because I hoped my wife would take care of them in the afterlife.

I was older than I am now. Today I am 51 in real life, but I think I was more in my mid to late 60s in the dream.

It was an overcast day, and I could not be sure if it was cloudy or if it was battlefield smoke. The fighting had raged on, leaving us all in its wake.

The little stone church had taken damage in the shelling, and my wife hadn't lived through it.

It was so damn detailed. I remember the smell of the wet turned-up earth and the smooth feel of the shovel's handle. I was so tired from digging. I wasn't the only one digging graves, and some of the men kept offering to do it for me, but I couldn't let them.

In WWI the "dog tags" were not metal like our modern ones, and I had four of them. I was worried about making sure these children's families knew they had died in the battle. I worried about what I was going to do without my wife. The only thing I didn't worry about was that my wife would absolutely take care of these boys in the afterlife because that is the kind of woman she is.

The most horrifying part was how clearly I envisioned their uniforms and my wife's dress. I just couldn't bring myself to put earth on them. It would be real when I did, and I just stood there looking at them in their graves, unable to do what I knew needed doing.

I woke up feverish and crying. I have not had a PTSD dream in years. Usually, I am down to non-specific night terrors these days.

My cat went and got my wife. Like, swear to god, the cat went and nipped at her heels until she followed the cat in and saw I was awake. I told my wife about my dream. Decades ago we'd do this when I had PTSD dreams.

My wife made a joke about her estrogen because she cried in sympathy, and that has changed since years ago.

I have never been in the army. I have never gone to war. I am thinking new house rule. No watching emotionally unsettling things when feverish. The problem with PTSD, for me, is that dreams don't always have anything to do with what I was traumatized by, but they carry a theme of horror.

This is an entirely new topic of PTSD dreams. Usually, I have dreams about being a horrible contagious monster that can give horrific diseases to my loved ones or sexual assault dreams. Okay, the latter is a bit related to my trauma. I haven't had any of those for close to a decade.

So I am going to sit here and eat leftover pizza while I wait for the Tylenol to take my fever down and then go back to bed. I think with the cat and my real-life wife, it will go much better this time.

[aimlessarchery]

✂️🌈🔥

emoji ask meme

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the “last straw” for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

Going to answer the second question first, because Python has cut people out before. His description in the Valentia Accordion Book (or, the translation I've located at least) states that "His father was a talented carpenter, but his alcoholism drove Python to leave his house in disgust and live a hand-to-mouth life." The only way that this situation is even vaguely referenced in-game is in his memory prism with Forsyth, where Forsyth sarcastically tells Python he's welcome to go home and become a carpenter like his father (which Python shoots down with a snide remark about hammers being the only thing he hates more than swords).

This dialogue combined with the knowledge that none of Python's endings ever imply anything more about his family leads to me portraying him as completely uninterested in reconnecting. The ties with his father have been cut, and he's walked away without much of a thought about ever sewing it back together. (His mother is never mentioned, so I have to make all that stuff up myself lol…but I don't need to get into all that here. This answer is already long as fuck 🙏) As for what that "last straw" is, I haven't envisioned a specific action or insult that led to Python leaving home. I just work with the sense that despite Python's lackadaisical and self-deprecating attitude, there is a level of disrespect that he doesn't tolerate. When that line is crossed, he's ready to drop everything and walk out. (This is also why I believe he does like the Deliverance despite his whininess about work—he's chosen homelessness over a living situation he hated before. If he truly hates the whole thing, he'll pack his shit and go.)

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

"When all the oranges are collected during harvest season, eat your fill while they're around. Don't wanna freak you out, but there'll be less and less every year." Maybe he shouldn't say that last part. Gods, he's glad he can't actually do this. What a nightmare of a thing to do to yourself—popping in to tell yourself about the future. "Oh, and quit blowing off Forsyth's offers to read to you. It's a chance for some of the best sleep you'll ever get."

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

answered this one here !

[riverdamien]

From Darkness to Light!

"Sloughing Towards Galilee!

Fifth Sunday of Lent!

March 17, 2024

From Darkness to Light!

Louis L'Amour once said: There will come a time when you believe everything is finished, that will be the beginning."

These last months I have thought my time was coming to an end, both physically and professionally; Others like Job's friends echo the same pronouncements: you have failed, you are too old, and it is time to retire! I have been touchy, and irritable, I say the wrong responses, and my moods have been low!

And like Job, I have begun listening to the God within me; and memories flood me. One is of a fifteen-year-old sitting on the street corner in the Haight, selling the Amethys in the above cross, to a man for $100.00, and when he saw me told the man "No!", rose to his feet, handed me the Amethyst, hugged me, and said, "Thank you, you have saved my life, you have never known that, but you have, thank you!" And so the Amethyst stone was placed in the center of the cross, for me to wear, to remind me sometimes, and I mean sometimes, the presence of Jesus shows through. I know I make so many mistakes!

Today, on this fifth Sunday of Lent, my 30th  year in ministry, I understand we stand at a crossroads, faced with a choice: do we continue to walk the familiar path, holding on to old grievances, judgments, and patterns? Or do we envision a brighter, future of hope for ourselves and the world?

Throughout the past decade, humanity has weathered storms of adversity, from the ravages of the global pandemic of COVD--a disease which continues, and in its wake, we are dealing with monkeypox and RSV to the upheavals of change in our society. Wars are raging around the world, people are starving, and migrants throughout the world are suffering.

My heart is full of pain with the people without housing and health care, on the streets of San Francisco, really full of pain. It is easy to fall into a deep depression, to walk away and succumb to fear and uncertainty, to believe that our current circumstances are unchangeable.

But today, I, all of us, can choose differently, that is a great opportunity! We can grab the power within each one of us for transformation in our lives. We are not bound by the constraints of our past selves, or of others, but we can choose to follow  Jesus in his walk steadfastly towards Jerusalem, we can effect profound transformation in our lives and what is around us. We can shed our old skins, those negative thoughts, and lack of hope,  and in the resurrection of Christ find a new, radiant life.

Dorothy Day once said: "The Church is both our Mother and a whore!" I have seen both sides personally, and have chosen the "Mother", God present with us, to find joy and fulfillment. I refuse to listen to any talk of what we can not change, the past, but choose where I see Christ in the Church, and pray my work is one expression of Christ. I have chosen not to talk politics, but of seeing all as God's children!

I have chosen, and hope you will as well, to embark on a journey of self-discovery and awakening tapping into the boundless reservoir of joy, abundance, and peace within us. We realize that we are not merely physical beings, animals, but brightly shining beings of love, capable of miracles beyond our comprehension.

So let us cast off the chains of the past, and embrace the limitless possibilities of the moment. Let us live in each moment, and dare to dream of a world where the redeeming love of the Cosmic

Christ reigns supreme, where every soul shines as a spark of God, seeking to provide for the homeless, the hungry, and the suffering around us, remembers the words of Dorothy Day, "Those who cannot see Christ in the poor are atheists indeed!"

I remember the words of Joshua each moment of the day, calling me forward:

"Be strong and stand firm. Be fearless and undaunted, for wherever you go, the Lord your God is with you."

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

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

(Temenos and Fr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

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

Press Release:

"Jesus continues to be crucified in all those who are crucified in history...There are not enough Stations of the Cross to depict all the ways in which the  Lord continues to be persecuted, imprisoned, condemned to death and crucified today!"

-Leonardo Boff

What: Non-Violent Witness in the Tenderloin to commemorate Good Friday!

Tenderloin Stations of the Cross

“A Journey With People on the Street!”

“Our Haunted-ness!”

When:

March 29, 2024

Noon-2:00 p.m.

Meet in Front of Polk Street-Side City Hall

Why:

There are approximately 8, 000 people on the street, without housing, or health care, they suffer from prejudice, anger, and hatred; they are shuffled around as if they are "objects" rather than human beings.

As followers of Jesus, and all who care, living in a war-making and uncaring empire we say loudly and clearly with Jesus: "Love one Another," "Love your enemies", "Be merciful as God is merciful," "Put away the sword," and "Thou shalt not kill."

We witness as people of faith who believe in God's reign of justice, love, peace, and restorative justice!

Sponsored by Temenos Catholic Worker

For more information:

Fr. River Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.

415-305-2124

temenos@gmail.com

www.temenos.org

www.paypal.com

Day of (No) Silence 2024: Rise Up. Take Action.

History of Day of (No) Silence: Started in the mid 90’s by two college students, Day of Silence has expanded to reach hundreds of thousands of students each year. Every April, students would go through the school day without speaking, ending the day with Breaking the Silence rallies to bring attention to ways their schools and communities can become more inclusive.

2024 Day of (No) Silence: With more than 800 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced last year, we must Rise Up and Take Action. GLSEN’s Day of NO Silence is a nationally recognized student-led demonstration where LGBTQ+ students and allies all around the country—and the world— protest the harmful effects of harassment and discrimination of LGBTQ+ people in schools.

====================================

[timelineman-of-titors-edge]

Modern/urban fantasy story idea?

I'm typing this out because I can't afford another project on my plate, and yet my brain holds it in the front of my mind anyway.

the general concept I've thought out is that this world I'm cooking up has ancient magic that's split into two main categories:

Blessings: magic that is gifted to you from a divine being from birth. These tend to be rudimentary or vague powersets that take awhile to hone and develop e.g you would be born with "ice powers" but you're going to have to figure out how to use the power effectively throughout your life.

and Vows: you make a specific promise to a specific divine being with a set of conditions and in return you are given a specific powerset. Should you fail to uphold the conditions of your vow, you lose the powers and, depending on which divine being you got the powers from, you receive some sort of punishment.

In modern society, those born with blessings are generally given favor in the world.

Vows, in the modern day, are a lot harder to do. Many divine churches guard the rituals to create a vow, reserving them for clergy. Other beings have vows only taken by those with specific professions like Law enforcement, fire fighters, etc.

The story I'm envisioning would be centered around a boy who encounters a recently born Divine being, a phenomenon thought to be impossible. The young divine being wanders the streets and sees the world of the underprivelliged, those without any magic, the homeless, those who most would consider invalids and unwanteds. This Divine being makes their first vow with this boy:

In exchange for a promise to never amass wealth for himself, the being would bestow upon the boy great strength and durability, along with knowledge of farming and construction, for the ends of creating a space for these, the lowest parts of society, to grow and flourish, and thus make this new being the Divine of the Unfortunate.

[dittolicous]

The worst part is how money is the core of my issues. Money would fix... not everything but close to it. But when you say that you get accused of greed and greedy people don't deserve help.

(and it won't solve the core issue that I'm unable to get a job that actually pays a living wage, so it is pointless in the end)

Plus, oh, it could be soooo much worse, you could be this or that, and I'm just sitting here like. I wish I was. I wish I was violently ill. Terminal even. I wish I was prone to hurting myself. I wish I was worse. Because if it was worse, I might be able to get help. Or at least have my suffering recognized for what it is. But because I get by, I can smile and nod, I don't physically hurt myself, then I don't need or deserve help.

Instead I'll be left as the one that they never saw it coming. Because that's how I've always been. Good enough to not need therapy. Good enough to not neex antidepressants. Good enough to not need intervention. Good enough to scrape by until everything that makes life worth living has been scraped away and lacking the safetynets to catch me.

Thousands of people die in poverty. Getting out of it is statistically unlikely. Even in high-school I would often fearfully wonder how I would survive as an adult, because I couldn't see a job that would pay the bills or make me happy. I've never had a career desire or a future I envisioned. And things have only gotten worse since then.

The only reason I live is to care for my pets but honestly, they'd be better off in other homes. And even if I didn't have then, I can't do homelessness again. I can't survive that pathetic feeling, the worthlessness of being an adult who can't even. Carry their own weight. I'm fucking 30. But I'm just as useless as I was at 10.

And, lets be real. Resources should go to people who really need them. Who have goals and desires and a purpose to live. Who actually bring something to the world. Not to a scummy adult who's too pathetic to handle being an adult. I want help, but I don't as well because I'm disgusting by my own uselessness and greed and worthlessness. I won't accept anymore because it's better that way. Better to just fully stick to my guns. Help should go to the more needy. Hungry families. Sick people. The homeless. People who are actually trying. Not some blackhole disguised as a human.

[simplynot-there]

Now I'm the Adult

Every adult in my life has disappointed me, betrayed me, neglected me, lied to me. I think about my childhood often. Who would I be if the adults in my life spent less time destroying the world around me, destroying my innocence. And spent more time teaching me the skills that all the other kids were learning from their parents.

Lately I've been envisioning my younger self. My eight year old self. She was quiet, curious and filled with anxiety. She had many sleepless nights thinking about what her future had in store for her. The present was so dull, she had a hard time picturing a brighter future. Millions of questions would run through her head. Who would she live with? What if her father somehow got soul custody? What happens if we end up back on the street? What happens if someone sees the inside of her home? The home that was infested with her mothers childhood trauma--buried underneath her mothers hoarding. Will CPS take her away? Will my father ever get his shit together? Does my mom regret having me? Does my dad hate me?

She dreamed of graduating high school, moving away and never looking back. She'd rather be homeless again than ever spend another day at home. She never had a peaceful day. She was forced to pick sides, forced to defend herself, forced to keep secrets, forced into adulthood. My mothers friends would say "You're daughter is eight, going on twenty-four!". My mom would suck her own dick if she could. She'd hold her head up high, thinking she raised such a well behaved kid who never annoyed any of the adults. But really, this little girl was screaming inside. She was confused, unsettled, scared. Too scared to ever defend herself, never wanting to stand out.

I remember sitting with my grandfather on the couch, he had put his famous chicken soup in a mug for me, he'd take the cigarette out of his mouth (his fifth that day) and say "don't be like your dad, he was so timid, so shy--never knew how to make any friends" I would giggle, I thought it was funny that he'd talk shit about his own son. "Be like your mom, when she was dating your dad, she'd light up every room she went in, she had a sparkle in her eyes, she wasn't afraid to stand out--thats how I want you to be". I would nod to make him happy. But really, I knew I was more like my father. It felt like a curse.

I wish I could hug that little eight year old girl. I wish SOMEONE would have hugged that little girl when they had the chance. But now, I'm the adult. I stand tall next to the adults who failed me. Who turned me into an anxious borderline. But instead of screaming at them like they deserve, I have to smile and nod, I have to be the one to learn to accept the past. I have to be the one to forgive. Because they won't. They don't care enough to. Where is my apology? Why am I expected to move forward? Why do I constantly have to roll with the punches? Why do I have to live with the consequences of my parents actions?

That little girl never stood a chance at being normal--and now she's an adult, suffering.

[kazdencade]

Here's to a New Year

“Happy New Year” feels inaccurate this year… All things considered, I'm relatively cognizant of the good and bad things/events of this year (world, politics, pandemics, etc., generally aside), but I'm not particularly happy, and I'm not particularly sad, if anything it feels empty. It’s like… what is neutral new year? Is that a thing? I think it’s where I am.

Thing is, in my professional life, I’ve thrived. My movements in that space have been on a trajectory that I’ve only envisioned. I’m proud of that. I’ve worked hard, and although not done doing My Time, have put in The Time. Even in the midst of the world around us kind of doing it’s best to fall apart, I’ve some come out in a place that is comfortable (when I’m being not ridiculous, and treating my bank account with a modicum of respect). I’m where 26 year old me would say, I’ve found success, which, by all means has changed a lot since then, but still, when it all came to be, I was struck with, “I did it”. And although it’s often just me enjoying these successes (I don’t really tell people about things like this, it feels like bragging, and I hate that), it feels good.

I say this is in the context of lots of people have lost things this year, and I don’t think I’m some unique beast in the world, but, I’ve lost a lot this year. I feel like my personal life is in shambles. It feels without direction, without community. Homeless is the word that comes to mind. I have friends (virtual and in-person, lol, the latter of which we're not really talking about here because they don't really want anything to do with the "games" part of my life). Plenty-enough. I cherish them. Almost to the point of suffocation – never outwardly, but damn near always in my own head space, which is ironic because they’re literally voices in my head (read: headphones, I’m not fucking crazy, maybe), and time spent. I need them. They nourish me in ways that only they can (I don’t even know if they know that/this). To my own credit, I walked away from some things this year that I felt no longer suited me. People, places and homes (if you will), that were my spaces of rest and restoration. They started to feel foreign, and I felt like I didn’t belong. It stopped making sense, and I felt critical and frustrated. But, I knew then, and it’s painfully evident now that it was such a HUGE part of who I was (for lack of a better phrase). I stand by my decisions, even if often times there’s sadness attached to them. I’m telling myself that caring for ones (my)self is sometimes sad, and sometimes painful, and that sometimes letting things go is the right decision. I believe this to be true, but it doesn’t change my humanity (read: the way humans are liable to feel) in the matter.

I’m grateful for the FFXIV community. Deciding to make a Kazden (“Kaz”) dedicated Twitter was a decision I didn’t really see for me, but with encouragement from folks, here we are, and it’s been generally marvelous. The way WoLs pour into each other; it helps fill my proverbial cup. My gposes have seen some growth, and I want to continue that. A lady from a my younger years, used to say, “it’s always nice to have a fan”, and FFXIV Twitter tells me that that is true. I love that people love Kaz. But, if I’m being completely honest (which I have no reason not to be considering), it’s sometimes difficult for me to separate myself from Kaz. I created him as an extension of me, and not really a separate entity. There’s a complexity there that I feel like I’m constantly analyzing and there’s the Me that is constantly battling against the not-realness of him and the actions that take place on the platforms where which he exists. He wants to be loved, but that’s because I do. He wants the attention from specific spaces because I do. He’s jealous, and reactionary because I am. He’s aware of certain worldly things because I am. All that said, I'm thankful for the followers, and the appreciators of Kaz and his goings-ons.

I enter the new year conflicted about a lot of things, which is kind of unlike me. I’m generally very sure-footed. There’s an emptiness in this new year that I didn’t think would be here, but it’s something I’ll need to explore. My sense of balance has to evolve, I have to evolve, I have to grow – to where, into what, I have no idea.

So, here’s to a new year.

[aquagustd]

spice - KTH | M

↣ you and your best friend, Jeon Jungkook, take it upon yourselves to help the community when you find out that an ancient building that acts as a shelter for the homeless is to be demolished. All efforts are fruitless, but there’s one more thing you could do; approach the mayor’s son, Kim Taehyung, who’s scarier than the mayor himself.

pairing: playboy!taehyung x reader

genre: crack, fluff, smut, angst, s2l

word count: 14.7K

warnings/tags: bi!tae, long-haired tae, strong language, soft girl aesthetic, virgin!reader, best friend!JK, Y/N is afraid of dicks & sex, rich!tae, mentions of homeless people, mentions of masturbation, mentions of infidelity, explicit smut- first time sex, fingering, grinding, hair pulling, lots of talking + dirty talk, pet name, oral (f), hickeys, clit biting, multiple orgasms, protected sex, slight scent kink, praise kink

a/n: gentleman tae is it

∞

‘You have reached your destination.’

You whip your head around to stare at Jungkook who sheepishly stuffs his phone into his jeans pocket.

“Seriously?”

He unclicks his seatbelt, speaking with a pout, “what if you got lost?”

“Are you being serious right now? Who could miss that?!”

You point to the blinking, neon red sign, that sits above a very large doorway, shaped in the word ‘SPICE.’

“I mean, I’ve never been to this side of town so…”

You roll your eyes, switching off the engine and gesturing for him to follow you into the dimly lit building.

“Wait,” Jungkook yanks you away from the large mahogany doors, “we can’t just enter.”

You watch two women take the steps that lead to the entrance, sauntering through the doors.

“I think we can.”

“Okay but. Have you ever met him?”

You groan, “no. I haven’t. But what does this have to do with anything? We’re just going to have a decent conversation with him, get him on our side and ask for his help.”

Jungkook laughs, sarcastically, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

“Listen,” he holds up both his hands, tracking his words as he speaks, “you can’t just talk to him.”

“Why? Is it because he’s the mayor’s son and he acts like some hot shot?”

“No,” Jungkook sighs, seemingly losing his patience, “it’s not because of that. Remember the fundraiser we held last year? The one you missed because you were sick?”

“Stomach flu,” you nod, “yes? What’s your point?”

“Well, I met him there. And he wasn’t very…welcoming. He refused to take the pamphlet I was handing out and my handshake!”

“Jungkook, no one takes the pamphlets you hand out and maybe he was having a bad day. He doesn’t usually attend fundraisers…he probably didn’t want to be there.”

“No, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice has a slight tremble to it, “you didn’t see him before. In real life! You didn’t see the look he gave me.”

“Well,” you grab Jungkook by his shoulders and steer him in the direction of the building, red light beaming down on his terrified features, “put on your big boy pants, because you’re gonna meet him again.”

It smells a lot like tobacco and beer in the large space, dark wooden tables and chairs line each wall with a bar to the far left and a lounging area. You heard that Spice was some sort of club owned by the mayor’s son, it doesn’t look the one you envisioned. Not in the slightest. There’s no loud, obnoxious music, but the lazy hum of jazz which filters through the speakers.

Jungkook tugs your coat, you follow his gaze to a pool table behind the bar area, men with leather jackets and shiny hair, slick with gel, crowd the area, none of whom you recognize. You’ve never seen him in real life, but from the images on the internet and the newspaper articles, he’s handsome. Of course he is, his father is known to be the most attractive mayor in your town’s history. And you obviously know that his son uses his charms to his advantage when it comes to wooing men and women. You haven’t heard unpleasant gossip about him, but you know that he has a different face with him every few months.

“I can’t see him.”

“There-“

Jungkook points to a man with long, brown hair who spins around holding a pool stick, another stick popping out of his mouth.

“It’s him. Come on,” you drag Jungkook in the direction of the pool table, the air thickens the further you walk into the dull space, a few red lights line the couches in the corner.

“Wai-“

“Excuse me?”

Your tone is as determined as your stride, keeping your arms to your side to appear more friendly.

Kim Taehyung cocks an eyebrow in your direction, gaze flitting from you to the possibly horrified-looking man behind you.

“I’m Y/N. Can you spare me a few minutes of your time-“

“I’m not interested-“ deep, baritone voice cuts through your practised speech.

You resist the urge to gasp and keep your professional smile on, poking his back, clad in expensive leather. He doesn’t turn around fully this time, just looks at you over his shoulder, moving the pink lollipop to the other corner of his mouth.

“I just need a few moments to discuss something with you. I promise it won’t take much of your time.”

The group behind him pause their conversation to listen, two men, dressed in leather as well, and two women, you recognize them as the same women who entered the club earlier. Their attentive gazes have you feeling a little uneasy, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“Can we speak so-“

“I’m listening,” he spins around to face you now, sitting on the pool table and resting his hands on his thigh.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s when people cut you off while you’re speaking. But you take in a deep breath through the nose and call your backup.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook rushes forward and thrusts his hand in Taehyung’s direction, “good to see you again.”

You grab Jungkook’s wrist when Taehyung just stares at his awaiting palm, seeing the group go back to their conversation from the corner of your eye.

“So, what do you two want from me?” He gestures between the two of you with his lollipop, licking his lips before he speaks again.

“I’m single right now, but I prefer to focus on one relationship at a time. Although you two look decent.”

You and Jungkook stare wide-eyed at each when you catch on to his words.

“No no no,” you splutter, Jungkook joins in your laughter, just as nervous, “we have something else to discuss with you.”

He narrows his eyes at you, tan skin being exposed when he cracks his neck.

“Go on.”

“Well-“

“But,” he glances at his watch, “I don’t have much time, so make it quick.”

Jungkook decides to take over when he sees your eye twitch from being interrupted once again.

“I’m not sure if you keep up with the news or anything-“ his chuckle makes you question ever bringing him along “-but we need your help with building 613.”

His eyebrows furrow, obviously he wouldn’t recall a building by its number.

“The face brick one on the fourth street.”

He folds his arms, “what about it?”

“Well, your father had a statement published a week ago that it’s set to be demolished before the end of the month.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches your mouth as you talk so you take it as your cue to continue, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“There are people living there, it’s a shelter for the people who can’t afford the simplicities of life, the one’s who go to bed hungry each night, the ones who-“

You slap Jungkook’s chest, “what he’s trying to say…if the building is demolished, where would they go? As far as we know that building doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Alright,” he stands up to his full height and adjusts the collar on his jacket, “can I ask why you are telling me all this?”

“Because you’re…the mayor’s son.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth, “and you come to me? The person who’s hardly involved in his father’s business.”

“Trust me, we’ve tried everything. This was the only thing we could come up with now.”

Jungkook takes a step forward, “we tried contacting the mayor himself but there was a waiting list, we held a rally, we-“

Your eyes bug out when Taehyung shoves his lollipop in Jungkook’s mouth, who blinks stupidly at the intrusion.

“Listen,” Taehyung grabs the pool stick again, “there’s nothing I can do to help. I’m sorry, it sounds terrible, but you’ve come to the wrong person.”

“Wait, you can’t-“

“Yes,” he spins around, and sits down on the couch behind him, back facing you.

“But but-“ you’re just as frantic as Jungkook now “-kids live there, and old women and men who can’t take care of themselves, they all need each other! And the puppies-“

His head swivels in your direction, eyebrows reaching his hairline, “puppies?”

“Yes,” you fight the lump in your throat, “the puppies, they live on the rooftop, and I have no idea where they’d go.”

“And their mothers,” Jungkook adds, removing the lollipop from his mouth.

You both perk up when Taehyung returns with a softer look on his face.

“I’ll…Can we discuss this in a more-“ he glances around “-suitable setting, like my café? Tomorrow?”

You and Jungkook nod, heads almost popping out with your vigour, “sure. What time?”

He pulls out two cards from his leather jacket, business cards, and hands them to you.

“Text me the details. I’m free from 4PM till 8PM.”

Wow.

You have no choice but to smile politely and agree. You literally get off work at around 6:30PM and by then you’re exhausted. Jungkook leaves after 7. You would have less than an hour to discuss things.

Jungkook lets out a relieved sigh once he enters your car but you’re quick to remind him that this is only the beginning.

It’s 7:34PM and you’re furiously chomping on a donut. He gave you four hours to work with and he agreed to meeting at 7PM, yet he’s still late.

“Calm down, Y/N. We still have half an hour.”

“Calm down-“ you glare at Jungkook, the corners of his mouth are white with icing sugar, “calm down?! You know how I feel about tardy-“

Taehyung enters the café wearing the same leather jacket and stoic expression from last night.

He pulls out the chair across from you and Jungkook, holding up two fingers to the barista who scrambles to make his drink.

“So,” his eyes flicker from you to Jungkook, “I spoke to my father last night.”

“Really?”

Jungkook laughs in disbelief, “that quick?”

“We…live together.”

“Seriously? I thought someone like you would live on your own.”

You watch Taehyung poke his tongue in his cheek, eyes set on Jungkook now, “someone like me?”

You pinch Jungkook’s thigh under the table, he bites down on his lower lip while you shoot Taehyung a tight-lipped smile.

“And what did he say?”

“Well,” he leans back in his chair, fluffing out the ends of his brown locks, “I told him what you told me about the elderly, the kids and the puppies.”

“And?”

Your place your forearms on the table, listening intently.

“He- thank you sweetheart,” he beams at the waitress who sets his pink milkshake on the table, probably the first time you’ve ever seen him smile. As soon as she returns to the front counter with a squeal, his smile is gone.

“He said that we need-“ he takes a healthy sip of his milkshake, your knee bobs in impatience “-he said that we need to gather the homeless and have them speak.”

You glance at Jungkook, “speak about what?”

“Why the building is so important to them.”

You scoff, mirroring his posture, “that’s really dumb considering the fact that they’re HOMELESS.”

Deep, brown eyes lock onto yours, “well, that’s what Mr. Mayor wants. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he sips noisily, “it’s almost 8 and I have somewhere to be. And don’t worry about the bill.”

He turns on his heel and rushes toward the exit, you run after him and grip his arm, he smirks as he stares at the way your fingers are curled around his bicep.

You retract your hand and adjust the hem of your dress, “what are we supposed to do?”

His hand comes up, index finger rubbing his bottom lip. You’re suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, shifting from foot to foot.

“Just gather everyone there on Saturday and make sure to grab as much attention as you can on social media. News reporters might be there, and I’ll get a permit to close the road.”

You watch the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly before he exits the café, a gust of wind lifting the skirt of your dress as he leaves.

“So,” Jungkook questions, wiping his chin with a beige tissue, “what did he say?”

You return to your donut, “he said we should get everyone together and-”

“Oh. It didn’t work the last time.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, gazing into the distance, “but he said that news reporters might be there and he’s gonna get a permit to close the road.”

Jungkook grins, “that might work. I knew this would work! I mean, why wouldn’t it? It’s a direct link to the mayor.”

You place your elbows on the table, “something’s fishy about Kim Taehyung.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, resting your chin on your interlinked fingers, you wonder why a guy like him is so willing to help you out. What’s in it for him? What’s his motive? What if he plans on saving the building, then buys it from whoever and chases everyone out? You need to know why Kim Taehyung, playboy, hedonist, someone who doesn’t get involved in matters like this, is so determined on helping the poor.

When you voice your concerns to Jungkook, he complains that you’re being confusing because his help was what you wanted initially. You can’t help but wonder…

“Where’s your husband?”

You sigh, adjusting the blush pink coat on the woman’s shoulders, “I don’t have a husband, Mrs. Kang.”

She’s perplexed, eyes darting from the car behind you to your purse then to your face.

“And you live alone.”

“Yes. Mrs. Kang. Now do you remember everything I told you to say?”

She nods, grabbing your hand and pouring out her thanks which you can’t really focus on because you recognize Taehyung’s BMW, with a long procession of cars following.

It wasn’t that hard to get everyone gathered, most of them are unemployed while the others are mostly car guards or take up gardening jobs here and there. But you’re still stressing out. True to his word, Taehyung had someone close the end of the street and the news channel’s van is parked across the building.

Jungkook arrived an hour before you and he doesn’t seem the slightest bit anxious. The mayor’s verdict will determine whether these helpless people get to live their lives in a comfortable home. Although you hope to propose proper housing facilities like running water and electricity. The lack of a shelter is what brought them here, to an untenanted, nondescript building near the end of town.

Taehyung steps out of his car along with two other men and his father who emerges from the black car behind his. The mayor isn’t known for his ostentatious behavior, his son however…

“Good morning,” he greets with a curt nod to Jungkook. The corner of his mouth twitches when his eyes land on you, raking down the length of your dress.

“This is Y/L/N Y/N and…friend, whose name I am yet to remember.”

You resist the urge to laugh at Jungkook’s wide eyed expression and bow when you spot Mr. Kim who appears from behind Taehyung’s lithe frame. You’ve seen him before but haven’t been formally introduced.

“Miss Y/N, I’m sure my son has informed you of my presence here today. Let’s not waste any more time.”

His frown lines drag down into his cheeks as he smiles, gesturing to the man behind him who rushes past you with a microphone and a cameraman following clumsily.

“Are they going to be interviewed?”

He nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket, mirroring his son who keeps an intense stare on the side of your face.

“Yes. I’m not sure why I am needed but my son insisted that I stay,” he turns to Taheyung, “he can handle everything himself.”

You cock an eyebrow, “I thought he doesn’t really involve himself in matters like these.”

Rich, masculine laughter reaches your ears, the corners of their mouth spreading into a box shape.

“He doesn’t. Unless I ask him too.”

You take a step forward, standing next to the sprightly man and observing each of the tenants as they’re being interviewed. You had advised them to not allow anything to hamper with their confidence in keeping the building for themselves.

“What did you plan on doing with the space after the building was demolished?”

He shoots you a grin, “am I the one being interviewed?”

You’re afraid that he may not like the idea of being questioned but his laugh eases your nerves.

“I haven’t planned anything as yet. But I will let you know.”

You take this as an opening to give your ideas some hope.

“Can I…make a suggestion?”

He considers your words for a moment before he’s nodding, Taehyung seems to be listening attentively with the way his head tilts a bit in your direction.

“Well,” you take a deep breath, “I was thinking that instead of demolishing the building. Obviously, everything costs money, why not have some renovations done?”

“Dear,” he purses his lips, “there’s a lot that has to be discussed. I may be the mayor, but I will have to seek counsel from the rest of the head community members.”

“I’m sure that you, along with the other community members, are well aware that this town does not have a shelter for the homeless. What kind of community would we be if we are ignorant to those living on the streets, who knock on our doors asking for a slice of bread? That’s how I was made aware of this building, I never visited this part of town before until I asked a woman, who came to my doorstep carrying a baby with another clinging to her arm.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, while the mayor chuckles.

“Well. Let’s see how things go today and I’ll have Taehyung give you a call when it comes to convincing the other head community members.”

You blink, knowing that you have much more to say. Instead, you turn your attention back to Mr. Ahn who rambles on about how no one would employ him because of his ‘nasty’ eye patch.

By the time lunch rolls around, you and Jungkook hand out hotdogs to everyone including the two men who hover near the mayor.

“Hello,” you jump in fright when you feel Taehyung’s hot breath in your ear.

“Yes. Oh,” you had him the neatly wrapped meal, “want one?”

He smiles, “no thanks.”

You shrug and continue to pack the extras back in the crate, Jungkook is busy munching on his fourth one.

“Y/N,” Taehyung holds his fist to his mouth as he clears his throat, clunky watch reflecting the sunlight into your eyes, “where are the puppies?”

You dust your hands, gesturing for him to follow you behind the building, laughing when he grimaces at the wall that’s covered in algae. You guide him up the unstable stairs and onto the roof. Immediately, the seven dogs who were lazing around a minute ago, scurry in your direction. You expect Taehyung to duck in order to protect his expensive suit, but instead he kneels and grabs the brown dog’s face, cooing and scratching. The grin that splits his face is something you never thought you’d ever see on Kim Taehyung.

“You’re so handsome! Yes, you are! Oh hello!”

None of the dogs jump and play with you like they always do, instead they crowd around Taehyung for some of his affections. The sight makes a smile creep onto your face.

“So,” you begin, scratching behind one of the puppy’s ears, wondering when the stench would get to Taehyung, “do you think we have a chance of saving this place?”

You’re not looking at him, but you can hear the smile in his voice as he rubs the other pups’ bellies, “oh definitely. Look at them. Although-“ he turns to you, “-you didn’t suggest an animal shelter for these guys.”

You laugh, “I didn’t get a chance to. But that’s on my long list-“

“Of demands.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m doing this for the community-“ standing up to your full height to peer over the ledge.

“But why are you doing this?”

His lips sag into his usual uninterested expression when he levels you with a stare.

“Are you forgetting that you asked for my help?”

You nod, moving a bit to the side when he joins you at the ledge, “yes, but you could’ve said no.”

He shrugs, “I just wanted to do something good for once.”

Deciding to drop it for now, you spin around and make your way to the top of the stairs, he pats your shoulder as you’re making your way down.

“Yeah?”

“I’m actually going for this…show tomorrow night. Want to join me?”

He bumps into your back as you halt your step, whipping your head around to stare up at him, “why?”

He scans your face, the proximity bombards you with the heavy scent of his cologne, “because…It’d be fun.”

You aren’t going to overthink things, but it sure does seem like he’s asking you out on a date. Why would someone like him be interested in someone like you? But you could be wrong.

“I’m actually working late tomorrow,” you aren’t lying, “maybe some other time.”

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, nudging you to keep walking, “that’s alright.”

You’re met with the sight of Jungkook with his arms around the mayor’s shoulders.

“What’s going on?”

Taehyung smiles at his father, in a way that seems like they’re sharing an inside joke.

“I made my decision,” Mr. Kim informs, a beaming Jungkook giving you a hint.

“And?”

“I’ve decided to demolish this building, but another vacant building which is still under construction would be built with the intent of a shelter for the homeless.”

You smile, bowing in thanks, while you try not to jump up and down with Jungkook.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“However,” he adds, holding up a slender finger, “we’d have to raise enough funds to add any extra utilities for these people to live a comfortable and healthy life.”

You’ve done plenty of fundraisers in the past and you have no doubts that the next one would be a cinch.

“Of course. Thank you again, Mr. Kim.”

He waves his hands dismissively, placing an amiable hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, “I should be thanking you for bringing this to my attention.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak but you shoot him a glare in warning, knowing what he was about to say.

The mayor says his goodbyes and leaves along with the rest of his posse while Taehyung lingers behind you.

“So.”

Your eyebrows furrow, making your way to your car with the large crate in hand, “so?”

“Sure you’re busy tomorrow night?”

“What?”

“What?”

It’s annoying that he’s calm while you’re the opposite, lips stretched into a smirk.

“Of course! I told you that I’m working late tomorrow. God!”

His smile doesn’t falter as he opens the car door for you, seeing him wave you off in the review mirror.

“He’s so weird.”

“I think he’s nice.”

You groan, “just yesterday you called him a privileged idiot.”

“That’s because he is,” Jungkook chortles, grabbing another hotdog from the backseat, “but he’s still a good person.”

At Jungkook’s words, you think of his interaction with the dogs earlier. Despite the nauseating smell, he still played with them and let them cuddle him. It makes you question your view of him for a bit. It was influenced by the gossip you heard from others, however, you’re still a bit skeptical about his willingness to help.

You wave Jungkook over to your desk, pointing at the figures on the screen when he stands behind your chair.

“This is good for the first week.”

He clicks his tongue, eyes scanning the numbers, “I’m not sure. Usually, we have a couple thousands more after the first week.”

You sigh, knowing that he’s right. The site you set up for fundraising isn’t doing as well as you thought. But it doesn’t cause too much worry because you still have the fundraising event this Saturday.

“What you two up to?”

Without lifting your head from the screen, you groan in annoyance at the presence of your ex-boyfriend.

“Go away Namjoon.”

He rests his chin on his arms, leaning on your cubicle with a grin on his face, “can’t. This is my working space.”

Jungkook continues with your discussion, ignoring Namjoon who steps around your desk to stand next to your chair, hands in his pocket as he dips his head to stare at your screen.

“What’s this for? The crusty building on fourth street?”

You glare at him, not prepared to argue with him this early in the morning.

“If you aren’t making a donation, please go away.”

He laughs, “you two are always busy ‘helping out the community,’” he points to your screen, “wouldn’t be surprised if you take all the cash for yourselves.”

“Listen buddy,” Jungkook speaks with the same amount of irritation that you’re feeling, “we work hard and if you’re bitter because you don’t do anything to help the community then just let us be.”

He holds up his palms, retreating to his desk, “I’m just saying. No one invests this much time and effort in stuff like this.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, whispering into your ear, “can’t believe you dated that guy.”

“Hey!” You smack his arm, “he was a nice guy, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway,” he walks backward, cupping his palms around his mouth as he shouts, “don’t stress too much!”

You laugh when Jimin tells him to shut up.

He’s right, you should focus on Saturday being a success rather than the figures on the fundraising site. Most people prefer to get something out of their money anyway, so the market always contributes a huge chunk to the total funds raised.

As always, you and Jungkook are going to be selling food and you can’t wait to check out the other stalls.

Market days have always been your favorite. Knowing that people enjoy your food, and the money is being put aside for a good cause is heart-warming. The loud chatter and laughter fill the fresh air, kids lining up to try Jungkook’s fruit lollies while you prepare sandwiches and subs for the peckish customers.

You’re busy stuffing the notes into the tin when you notice someone stand at your table from the corner of your eye.

“Hello. What can I get for- Kim Taehyung.”

You have no idea why you have this reaction to seeing him after a week, but you gather your emotions and pull out your small notepad, ready to take his order.

He smiles, brown eyes travelling to the menu propped up on the side of the table, index finger rubbing his bottom lip as he browses through the options.

“What do you suggest?”

After five minutes, he still hasn’t made up his mind and the queue continues to grow behind him.

“Uhm,” you lean over to peek at the menu, pointing to the large spicy chicken sub.

He shakes his head, brown locks dusting his leather jacket, “I don’t like spicy food.”

Laughing to yourself, you move your pen up on the laminated paper and draw his attention to the mild chicken sub.

“I’ll take three. Thank you.”

You shuffle to the table on your left and he follows you, waiting patiently on the other side.

“What was so funny?”

You glance up at him, spooning the shredded chicken into the bread, “what?”

“Just now,” his nods to the other table, “you laughed.”

And he reminds you of why you laughed, so you laugh again.

“Oh. Nothing. Just-“ your eyebrows pinch together, shrugging as you speak, “you said you don’t like spicy food but you literally own a club called ‘Spice.’”

He chuckles, the sound tinkling in your ears.

“It’s not a club, it’s a lounge and I didn’t name it spice because of its literal meaning.”

You wrap up his subs and hand it to him, then pull off your gloves to stuff the cash into the tin.

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his tongue across his lower lip, leaning over the table to whisper.

“Variety is the spice of life.”

Just then, a cool breeze wafts across your back, involuntarily shivering when he tips his chin to stare into your eyes.

“I’m going for this…car show tomorrow evening. Would you like to join me?”

Your gaze travels to the impatient man standing behind Taehyung, grumbling to himself.

“I-“

He grabs the subs and moves away from the table, your throat feels dry.

“You have my number. Let me know,” with a wink, he disappears from your sight while you fumble to take the man’s order.

Jungkook sidles over to your side, you ignore his pensive stare.

“Was he flirting with you and did you just fall for it?”

You clear your throat, bending down to reach for the pen that slipped out of your grasp.

“I did not. And he was not.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook tails you as you hand the man his order, “you know what a guy like him would want from you.”

You place your fist on your hip and turn to Jungkook, cocking your brow in irritation. This guy has varying opinions on Taehyung.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “I’m just saying.”

You’re not oblivious when it comes to guys and their different shapes and sizes. And Taehyung is the type you avoid at all costs. You’re cautious when it comes to breaking down your walls, even more after the joke that was your last relationship. Jungkook should know better than to think that you’ve fallen for Taehyung and his charms. He’s handsome, yes he does have luscious hair, and chocolate eyes, and a perfectly shaped mouth and a great sense in fashion. But, you would be silly to be swept away by his allure. Silly.

The rest of the day runs smoothly and you’re more than proud when you tally up your orders and reach the goal you’ve set for yourself by the end of the day.

It’s time for the stallholders to close up when the mayor and his two bodyguards arrive and collect the funds from each of you.

“Thank you for organizing such a wonderful day. The sub was delicious.”

You smile, untying your apron and folding it neatly.

“Thank you.”

Jungkook rushes over and grabs your hand, pulling you to the group of people huddled at the center of the field.

“They’re taking a photo for the newspaper.”

The mayor stands in the middle of the long row of people, Jungkook stands on one side with you near the end. Your breath hitches a bit when the smell of Taehyung’s perfume fills your nostrils.

“Closer!”

The cameraman diverts your attention to the way Taehyung’s hand hovers over your waist, inching closer so he can get in the frame.

Your eyes lock for a split second before you’re facing the camera and smiling, leaning away from him. You ignore the thunderous beat your heart drums in your chest, the way your blood rushes to your cheeks, stomach twisting in a feeling you’re trying to quash as you scurry to your car. You suspect that it’s a harmless crush, a crush on an attractive man that will disappear once all this is over.

It was supposed to be your day. After slogging all weekend, you were supposed to be lazing around and munching on the leftover subs from yesterday. But all your plans of having a destressing afternoon had to be cancelled because your boss called in and said that you’re needed at work.

To say you’re in a shitty mood would be an understatement.

And on top of that, despite your best efforts of keeping him out of your mind, your dreams were filled with a fanciable male you hope to never see again for fear of your heart being pulverised by your own expectations.

The cloyingly sweet voice of your coworker causes you to scrunch your eyes shut for a while, struggling to keep his words out of your head.

“Saw you in the newspaper. You looked pretty.”

“Go away Namjoon.”

He chuckles, voice becoming louder as he walks behind your desk.

“I saw you with that guy. The mayor’s son. What’s his name?”

He clicks his thumb in an attempt to remember while you crack your eyes open, hoping he doesn’t say-

“Kim Taehyung.”

You keep your eyes on your screen, typing furiously.

“Are you guys together or something? He had his arm around your waist. If I saw correctly.”

Something about his tone irks you, tilting your head to shoot him an unimpressed look.

“He did not.”

He shrugs, “well you two were standing pretty close. Is something going on?”

You have no idea how your love life concerns him, but you hear yourself say: “no.”

His deep laugh makes your eye twitch as he leans back against your cubicle.

“Of course. How could I think that the mayor’s son would date you. You aren’t his type at all.”

You grit your teeth, acknowledging the tiny pang in your chest.

“That’s okay though. Even if he did want you,” he holds up a finger as he walks away, “you won’t date him because you’ll come back to me like you always do.”

“No I won’t!”

You’re fuming, heart thumping in your chest at his words because it’s half-true. You always go back to Namjoon in the end. Because it’s convenient for you, because you’re too afraid to experience other men, too afraid to reintroduce each aspect of your life to someone who may not be worth it. For fear of your heart being torn into shreds all over again.

But you promised yourself the last time, that you would never go back to him, never make the same mistake.

That’s why, you’re sitting in your company’s parking lot, typing out a message to Kim Taehyung with blurred vision.

His reply comes hours later when you’re snuggled up in your nest of cushions, grieving in silence.

[18:10] Kim Taehyung: Hello Y/N.

[18:11] Kim Taehyung: Of course. I’ll pick you up at 8?

You spring up, leaning back against the couch as you try to fight the smile that burns into your features.

[18:12] You: actually. Can I come with Jungkook?

Obviously, you’ve informed your best friend of your impulsive decision and after you were berated for what felt like hours, he had insisted that he go along with you.

[18:15] Kim Taehyung: Sure why not

[18:15] Kim Taehyung: I’ll bring a friend along too

[18:16] Kim Taehyung: Should I text you the address?

You squeal, typing out a message to Jungkook but even more anxious to meet his friend.

[18:17] You: That’s ok. I’ll get it from the internet

[18:18] Kim Taehyung: Alright. It’s the BMW Torque Show.

You’re already fussing about in your room, flipping through your clothes to find a cute outfit and accessories to match.

[18:21] You: Thank you!

[18:21] Kim Taehyung: See you later (;

Half an hour passes, and you settle on a knee-length white dress with little roses on the collar, and boots. Jungkook said that he’ll fetch you a few minutes before 8PM so you scurry to do your makeup and hair, letting it hang in soft curls.

Your nerves heighten with each passing minute and you’re so jittery that you almost forget your phone charging in the corner of your room when you hear Jungkook pull up outside your apartment.

“Sorry, I had to go back ‘cause I forgot my phone.”

He laughs, pulling onto the road while you click in your seatbelt.

“Relax. So, I know I might be a third wheel-“ you give him a discernible look “-but I’m still a bit hesitant to let you date this guy.”

“Jungkook,” you speak plainly, “this isn’t a date. More like friends…I guess? Hanging out. Plus, you won’t be the third wheel, he said he’s also bringing a friend.”

“Oh?” He spares you a glance before he’s turning onto the highway, “you’re friends now? What do you even know about this guy?”

You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off.

“Apart from what you heard about him.”

Taking a minute to think, you realize that you haven’t had a proper conversation with him before. Maybe that day on the roof?

“I know that he likes dogs.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “everyone likes dogs.”

You shove his shoulder, “not everyone!”

“But I mean, you know he’s not the type of guy you take home to your parents and that’s what you’re looking for. Am I right?”

“Maybe we should just cancel because it seems like you’re trying to put this whole thing off.”

“No! No, I’m not. I’m just-“ you give him an empty smile when he looks at you, waiting for him to continue “-I’m just concerned because I know what happened with Namjoon and every guy before that.”

You huff, choosing to stare out the window and ignore your friend who’s bringing up your painful past when you just want to enjoy yourself tonight. Even though cars aren’t really your thing, as long as it takes you from A to B, you’re happy. But you do appreciate a sleek car when you see one.

“We’re here.”

You straighten your posture and notice the crowd near the racetrack, eyes wide in awe at the shiny vehicles parked near the entrance and the massive racetrack.

“I think we need to buy tickets then head down there.”

You follow Jungkook’s line of sight, nodding when you see the table set up at the gates where people are lining up.

Jungkook pays for your tickets and follows you down the narrow pathway into the space where tables and rows of chairs are set up for people to watch the show.

You’re about to text Taehyung to notify him of your arrival when Jungkook nudges you, standing ramrod straight when you see Taehyung and an unfamiliar woman approach you. Why did you expect his friend to be a guy?

“Y/N,” he grins, “and…Jungkook?”

“Hey,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Hi,” the woman steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug, “I’m Jiah.”

She’s pretty, dressed in a charcoal grey coat. You can tell she’s much older than Taehyung and you’re curious about the nature of their relationship.

“She’s my lawyer,” Taehyung nods in her direction, pouting when she smacks his shoulder.

“I’m not his lawyer.”

You force a chuckle out, catching Jungkook’s gaze furtively, knowing he must be thinking the same thing.

Taehyung stuffs his hands in his jeans pocket, gesturing to the racetrack, “shall we?”

He walks with your pace as you take careful steps down the stairs, you can see him glance at you now and again in your periphery.

“Didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Huh,” you realize that he’s talking to you, already feeling embarrassed in his presence, “well, I’m here.”

You snort, wondering why you’re behaving like an awkward teenager.

“Uhm, yeah,” you decide to add, hearing Jungkook and Jiah laugh behind you, “I changed my mind.”

Joining the crowd at the starting line, you pull out your phone to snap some photos of the luxurious cars parked in a fancy manner, weaving through the crammed-up space to stand next to Jungkook, Taehyung following close behind.

“What do you think we’d be doing if this was a normal Sunday night?”

Jungkook leans down to whisper, ogling the shiny black vehicle while he takes a video of the man speaking on the makeshift stage.

“Probably crying over another romcom we’ve watched over a hundred times,” you giggle, spinning around to look for Taehyung only to be met with his broad chest.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You shrug, tugging your cardigan closer to your body, “I’m not really a cars person but the night is lovely.”

“The night?”

“Yeah, the night,” you repeat, seeing his eyebrows furrow in question. “I mean,” you glance around at the joyful crowd, bright lights shining down on the track, sky spotted with stars, the scent that only belongs to the velvet of the night, “this atmosphere. I like it.”

“I agree. It’s kind of boring right now. Want to grab something to eat?”

“There’s food here?”

With a chuckle, he points to the food truck near the entrance, and you resist the urge to slap yourself. It’s huge. How could you miss it?

He guides you up the stairs, joining the queue while you stand behind him.

Tugging your arm, he points to the menu pasted on the front of the truck.

“We can order together.”

Your heart stirs in your chest at the contact, choosing the mozzarella corndog for you and Jungkook while Taehyung orders for him and Jiah. As expected, he refuses to take your money when it’s time to pay for the order and you argue about it all the way back to the racetrack.

“Thanks,” Jungkook begins stuffing his face with the corndog, while you struggle to finish it.

Usually, you’d be scarfing down the cheesy goodness, but your nerves are preventing you from enjoying the food. When Jungkook is done with his, you hand him yours quietly, thinking that no one would notice because they’re all listening attentively to the man who’s listing the specifications of each model.

“Not hungry?”

You shake your head, about to tell Taehyung that you ate earlier when a booming voice overlaps yours.

“Hi guys! My name is Kai and I’m selling tickets for a spin in one of these bad boys. If you’re interested, form a line behind the tape or head to the seating area and enjoy the rest of the show!”

Spinning around in the direction of the stairway up to the seats, you peer over your shoulder to see Jungkook and Jiah heading over to join the line.

You feel a hand on your arm, Taehyung’s friendly eyes pointing to the cars behind him.

“Wanna go for a spin?”

You exhale a dry laugh, “and waste money? When you could literally take me for a spin in your BMW for free?”

You clamp your mouth shut when you realize what you said, seeing him smirk suggestively.

“You wanna go for a ride in my BMW?”

You splutter, “I-“

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you’re holding your breath, fisting the skirt of your dress when his finger trails down your cheek.

“I’m just kidding. It’s fun on the racetrack. Plus,” he slides his palm in yours, while you’re stunned into silence, staring at the point of contact, “I have an idea.”

“What do you mean that’s not the policy? I’m paying for it.”

You chew on your nail anxiously, seeing Taehyung try to convince the stern man to let him drive one of the cars instead of “sitting in the backseat and going 50mph.”

“Come on. I’m sure if your boss was here, he’d understand.”

Offended, Kai hands Taehyung the tickets and tells him to head to the other end of the white tape.

“It’s okay. I’m sure we’d have a good time.”

Taehyung glares at Kai, scoffing, “the last time I came for one of these shows they let me drive myself. I don’t know what’s this guy’s problem.”

Taehyung looks…terrifying when he’s angry. But his smile returns when he ushers you to the dark blue car on the other side of the tape.

When the driver steps out, Taehyung’s face lights up and he takes the man into a bone-crushing hug.

“Hoseok! Where the hell have you been?”

“Here and there. So good to see you, bro! Hi!”

He steps in front of you, thrusting his hand in your direction. You shake his hand shyly, eyes travelling to his shiny suit.

“This is my friend, Hoseok. He’s a professional race car driver.”

You smile, “nice to meet you.”

You don’t miss the way he winks at Taehyung as he makes his way around the car.

“Hey, uhm,” Taehyung points to the steering wheel, “can I drive?”

“Woooh, you know I can’t do that.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I did it before. Come on.”

Hoseok cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing, “I cannot do that. We have strict policies regarding the cars and this racetrack.”

Uncharacteristically, Taehyung grabs Hoseok’s hand and pleads with him, smiling to yourself at his childlike behavior that draws the attention of the people waiting on the other side of the track.

Hoseok rolls his eyes, “fine. But I’m sitting with you.”

He hands Taehyung the keys and walks around the car to open the passenger side door, while you hover near the trunk.

“Nice!”

Taehyung is about to put his seatbelt on when he notices you standing near the car, awkwardly.

“Hey. Can my lady sit in the front with me?”

You choke on your own spit, heart stammering in your chest. His voice was so…soft.

“Yeah yeah,” Hoseok holds the door open for you to step in the car, hands trembling as you click in the seatbelt.

You tuck your hair behind you ears, glancing at Taehyung who sports a cheeky grin, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Ready to go for a ride?”

Something about the way he said that makes your cheeks heat, averting your gaze to the row of people who are watching as Taehyung starts up the car and revs the engine.

“Yeah.”

Hoseok pokes his head between your seats, placing a concerned hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, “remember start nice and easy because this track is designed for-“

“Yeah yeah. I got it.”

“And don’t forget that-“

“I got it!”

He steps on the pedal, and you’re glued to the seat, a nervous laugh filling the small space as Taehyung zooms around the track, hair flying wildly around your face, eyes going dry.

Maybe you should’ve closed the window because the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he goes even faster, hysterical whoops coming from him and Hoseok.

You’re gripping onto the seat for dear life, boots lifting with each turn he takes, smashing into the door embarrassingly. When he glances at you, you shout for him to watch the road with a dazed smile, knowing that you can’t save your hair. Appearances are the last thing on your mind when you start to ease into the ride, adrenalin pumping through your veins, laughter bubbling from your chest because you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

Your tummy hurts, body feeling like jelly when he finally comes to a stop at the starting line, the crowd cheering as Hoseok steps out of the car.

Taehyung’s long fingers pull your hair away from your face, some strands got stuck on your lip gloss and he makes sure to get those out too, heart still racing in your chest.

“You okay?”

He says finally, face a few inches away from yours, heady scent clouding your thoughts.

You nod giddily, eyes flickering to his lips just as his do the same. It might be your mind, that’s still in a muddled lump, playing tricks on you but he leans closer and so do you, puckering your lips, closing your eyes when he tilts his head.

You wait and wait, eyes flying open when he clears his throat, he’s staring out the windscreen, back in a straight line.

Panicking, you jump out of the car and walk around the track, running up the stairs to see Jiah tucked into Jungkook’s side.

“Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, sparing Jiah a smile, “can we go?”

He takes in your frazzled state, and you don’t realize how crazy you must look with your unkempt hair, chest still heaving.

He holds up his hand, glancing at his watch, “err yeah. It is getting late.”

Turning to face Jiah, he wraps her up in a hug and you make your way to his car with hurried steps, mind spinning as much as your heart.

Jungkook unlocks his car, and you jump in hastily, scrubbing your palms down your face.

“Is everything ok?”

“No,” you sigh, “I was having fun and- and we were having fun but then I thought. I thought that-“

You groan, unable to even finish your sentence because you’re so ashamed. For a fleeting moment, you were carefree, you had no inhibitions and you thought that Kim Taehyung, the guy who wouldn’t even spare a girl like you a second look on any normal day, wanted to kiss you.

“Alright,” Jungkook starts his car engine, driving out of the parking lot, “I think I know what you need.”

Shoving the last bite of your pastry down your throat, you slouch in the sofa, neck bent on the armrest. Jungkook is sprawled across your rug, eyes half-open.

“I can’t believe I thought he was gonna kiss me.”

“Hey,” Jungkook yells, holding up his arm and pointing to ceiling, you know he must be drunk by now, “it’s okay! Just because you thought that he was gonna kiss you doesn’t mean he was gonna kiss you. Wait. Wait- that’s not what I meant to say!”

He laughs drowsily, slurring his words even more after he takes a deep breath and continues with his speech.

“Just because you thought he wanted to kiss you, doesn’t mean it’s your fault. You thought he liked you the whole night?! I thought he liked you the whole night! Jiah thought he liked you the whole night!”

You take a swig from your drink, resting your arm across your tummy, “yeah.”

“And isn’t it funny,” he titters, poking your knee, “isn’t it funny that I kissed Jiah and you didn’t kiss Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, tilting your head to stare at your goofy best friend who collapses on your wooden floor.

“You kissed Jiah? On the first meeting?!”

He shakes his head, bobbing as he speaks, “now…I know what it looks like. But she’s the one, man! I just know it! Who knew- Who knew-“

“Who knew…what? That you like older woman.”

Clapping like an inebriated seal, he punctuates each word with a burp, “yes! Precisely! Who knew I like older woman and who cares if we kissed on the first date!”

You scrunch up your nose, jealousy slowly pouring into the mix of embarrassment, anxiety, foolishness, disgust, disbelief, and sorrow. Your own feelings caught you off guard, you didn’t realize how deep your crush was after tonight, after the rejection stung more than you anticipated. And he isn’t to blame. You are. For thinking that a playboy like him would be interested in dating you. You should’ve believed your own words. When you said that it was more like ‘friends’ hanging out and not a date.

As the night progressed, you couldn’t help but sense a connection between the two of you, the electricity each time you locked gazes or exchanged smiles. Or when he held your hand, long, dexterous fingers curling around yours, hair flowing behind him, delirious when he was behind the wheel.

You yell into the throw cushion, as if that would get the memories to disintegrate and you would live a life where this night is erased from your memory.

“You won’t see him again, you know,” Jungkook reasons, sitting near the couch now, head in your lap, “only at the opening of the shelter which is in three weeks’ time. You know they already started extending the building.”

“I know,” you sigh, relief and sadness filling your thoughts, knowing that seeing him is tantamount to not seeing him at all.

“So, you don’t have to worry. By then, everything will be forgotten.”

You hum, his words echoing in your head a lot louder than you need. Everything will be forgotten. Him. You. The short exchange that will be ingrained in your heart for the rest of your life probably. The fact that there was so much you didn’t know about him disturbs you even further, because you feel so much.

It was definitely the small touches, his gentle mannerisms and caring demeanor. Even the short while where you saw his playful side pop out. Guys like Kim Taehyung only come around once, and it’s a shame that your experience is over.

Two weeks pass and you’re driving home from work when you decide to visit your friends on fourth street. Mrs. Kang raves about how she’s going to be the manager of the shelter.

“Mr. Kang would be so happy if he were here.”

You place your palm over hers, reminded of her husband who passed a few years ago, involved in a hit and run accident. Even after all these years, not a day goes by where she doesn’t mention her husband. You hope to find a love like that someday. To love whether they go on or not.

As you walk up the stairs to pay the puppies a visit, your mind drifts to a man with a charming boxy smile. Each day goes by, and you regret ever talking to him, spending time with him, as little as it was, because it hurts even more, and you can’t help but think that this is your fate. To be alone.

When you open the gate, you come to an abrupt stop when you see a man in a black suit crouched down, smoothing his palm over the puppies’ backs.

Your heart skips a beat when one of the dogs bark in your direction and he spins around, smile falling when he sees you.

You twist the fabric of your beige cardigan with your fingers, deciding to stare at the puppy that’s plopped in front of you instead of looking at him as he makes his way toward you.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, voice timid, “hey.”

“Hey,” you dip down, scratching the puppy’s belly, cooing when he nudges your knee.

“How have you been?”

“Good. And yourself?”

You’re trying your best to keep your feelings out of your voice, but the tense air around you proves that something is going on. Or nothing is going on.

“Good. You uhm. I didn’t see you after that night,” he laughs, it sounds a little hollow to your ears.

You stand up to your full height, deciding to walk to the ledge and peer over, watching the women pack the fruits and vegetables that didn’t sell today.

“Yeah. Sorry I took off like that.”

He stands next to you, much closer than you would expect him to.

“It’s alright. I understand.”

He understands? Understands what?

You didn’t realize that your thoughts were being spoken until he replies.

“I understand that I’m this guy who asks you out and everything is going well but then…”

He trails off. You’re baffled, even more than you were yesterday or two weeks ago.

“I mean. It’s annoying when someone gives you mixed signals.”

Tilting your head back when the warm afternoon breeze billows out your skirt, you shake your head, “I take mixed signals as a no.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eye and then he’s tugging your arm lightly, urging you to look at him, eyes brimming with an unknown emotion. Unknown to you.

His tongue darts out, “I didn’t mean for things to go the way they did.”

He hesitates for a while before he’s smiling, cocking an eyebrow in interest, “can I be honest with you?”

You fold your arms, pretending like his cologne and intimidating stance isn’t affecting you.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not the guy for you. And I realized that when it was too late. When I knew that I shouldn’t treat you like another game.”

“A game?”

He laughs, cheeks tinting a bright pink.

“I mean. Obviously, you’ve heard the rumors about me.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you speak, “you were under that assumption before you asked me out the first time?”

He shrugs, “yeah, I mean. I…don’t really know. Honestly. I just wanted to have some fun. Like what I always do.”

Then tension in your shoulders deflate a bit, “it’s okay. I understand.”

“Okay.”

Silence falls over the two of you and you take the time to think about what he said. So, Jungkook was right, maybe he was in it for one thing, but you don’t know if you should be flattered that he backed out in the end.

“Do you wanna…check out the new building?”

You nod, “sure. I heard that they’re working fast with extending the building.”

“Yeah,” he holds the rusty gate open for you as you walk down the stairs.

You unlock your car and wave at the ladies as you go. He doesn’t speak during the ride except for when he gives you directions. You’re glad that you decided to wash your car last week after a sudden burst of energy to clean your kitchen, your house, your car, your life.

“Turn here.”

At first glance, the building is huge, even bigger with the extension at the back and the paint is fresh and crisp.

“Wow. This is great,” you squeal, “I’m so happy right now.”

“Thanks to you.”

“No,” you tuck your hair behind your ear demurely.

A man wearing blue overalls runs up to Taehyung, shaking his hand and pointing to the building behind him. You’re standing a foot away, so you can hear their conversation pretty clearly.

“We’re almost done with the first coat. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

“And congratulations,” he nudges Taehyung’s shoulder, “I hope you know that your selfless act will return to you tenfold.”

Selfless act? You’re curious, seeing Taehyung smile and wave the man off.

It’s only when another man with a mohawk appears with a thick stack of papers do you feel a little curious. Especially when they start talking about a deposit, with Taehyung signing a few documents that look important.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

You nod, sliding your hands in your pockets, seeing him walk in the direction of the park a few minutes away.

He gestures for you to follow him, turning around the corner to the beautiful view at the end of the street. The lake is calm, golden as the sun beams onto its surface. You sit down on the bench next to him.

You decide to break the silence.

“I didn’t expect you to…be this involved with everything.”

He smiles, resting his hands on his lap, “actually, the building on fourth street belonged to my grandfather.”

He faces you, eyes lit by the golden sun, making your breath hitch.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And after he passed, I inherited it. I didn’t really care much though.”

“Wait wait,” you fold your legs on the bench, holding up your palms, “the building belonged to you? And you knew about the people living there?”

Nodding, he chews on his cheek, scanning your face while you’re stunned. He knew about the homeless who were living in his building for months, almost a year and he did nothing about it. Men of his calibre wouldn’t waste any opportunity to monetize their possessions.

“Well, anyway. Enough about me,” he pokes the tip of your nose, “what about you? What’s your story?”

You fiddle with the hem of your skirt, keeping your gaze on the movement, “my story?”

“Yeah. I know that you’re the head of the HR department at Kim Inc. You’re single, live on the quietest street in town and stay in for fun.”

You gasp, “that’s all there is to me.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “life has been pretty boring these days.”

“Yeah?”

He scoots closer to you, arm stretching across the backrest. The sun is disappearing from the sky, streetlights flickering on as you chat.

“Are you single?”

You giggle, covering your mouth with your palm as you laugh. His question catches you by surprise.

“I wouldn’t go on a date with you if I had one.”

“Hey. Anything can happen in two weeks.”

The fact that he remembers how long it’s been since you last saw each other makes your heart soar.

“I don’t,” your eyes travel across the lake, knowing that he’s still watching you.

“I think someone as beautiful as you must have tons of guys lining up for a chance.”

Will he ever turn off his charms?

You roll your eyes, despite the blush that spreads on your cheeks, mumbling, “bad experience.”

“Ohhh. I’m guessing…” He taps his chin, “you got cheated on?”

Your mouth hangs open, “how did you know?”

“I guessed. Wait, seriously? I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. It was a long time ago anyway.”

“What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you think that the effects of his charms are making you a little more talkative tonight.

“We were dating for almost a year, and everything was great. I loved him. He loved me…That’s what I thought. I caught him with a coworker of mine. A mutual coworker.”

He smacks his thigh, “what the fuck.”

“Yeah,” you give him a sad smile, “and for months I kept thinking that I pushed him away-“

“You shouldn’t think like that. Some men are cheaters. That’s just the way they are.”

You think about the downfall of your relationship, what led up to the point where he decided to throw everything you had away just because of a stupid fight.

“And I kept thinking that I shouldn’t blame him because men have needs and I couldn’t satisfy his needs because I was stubborn.”

Taehyung clears his throat, “what needs?”

You scoff, “you know!” Eyes on the patch of grass near your shoe, speaking under your breath, “I didn’t want to sleep with him.”

Immediately, you want to swallow your words when you see the indecipherable look on his face.

“Why…Why didn’t you want to sleep with him? If you don’t mind me asking.”

It’s your turn to change the topic but he grabs your hands, pestering you to tell him until you lose your patience and blurt it out.

“I’m a virgin!”

“Wha- Really?”

“Happy?”

You leap up from the bench, but he yanks your arm, pulling you back down with a huff.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You just…surprise me every time I see you.”

“What?”

He scratches the back of his head, “nothing.”

The awkwardness thickens in the air until he decides to speak.

“It’s okay if you’re still a virgin. I’m not sure why you’re embarrassed. If you’re waiting for that special person then-“

“That’s the thing,” you whisper, still refusing to look at him, “I wanted to. So many times.”

“Then what stopped you?”

You’re already so deep in the conversation, you might as well just tell him.

Glancing around, as if you aren’t the only people sitting in the park this late in the evening, you lean in closer to him to whisper, taking advantage of the position to breathe in his cologne.

“I’m kind of…scared.”

“Scared?” He’s whispering too, face a breath away.

“Yeah…That it might…hurt.”

He scratches his chin, speaking in a low tone, “I’ve never been with a virgin before but from what I’ve heard it hurts...”

You groan, slumping against the bench.

“I’ve also heard that it feels really good,” he winks, sending a shiver down the length of your spine.

How did you even end up here, having this conversation with the guy you wouldn’t mind enduring the pain for?

“Maybe you’re just afraid of male…genitals.”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you rush to talk about something else, but he continues with his theories.

“Or maybe, you’re afraid because of what you heard from others. Not everyone’s experience is the same.”

You rub your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the evening.

He seems to notice because the next moment, you’re being shrouded by his coat, fleshy forearms exposed to your gaze.

“Thanks.”

You’re drowning in his cologne, almost moaning from the delicious scent. It almost feels like he’s on top of-

Where are these thoughts coming from? It’s unlike you to have such salacious images pop into your mind.

“But I mean…if you’re scared, you aren’t afraid to like…you know…explore by yourself?”

You screw up your face, but nod anyway, ignoring the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he speaks.

“But I’ve never…”

How do you even tell him you’ve never fingered yourself because you’re too afraid? And even if you try, it’s like your lady parts cower. You Googled it and you think it’s called vaginismus? You don’t even know for sure. You can’t trust Google.

You don’t even have to finish your sentence because his brown eyes light up in understanding, lip tucked between his teeth.

“You know,” he flicks off a string of cotton from the coat, “it’s not that bad.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a man!”

He laughs, low and husky, ensuing another hurricane of filthy thoughts in your mind.

“Do something for me.”

Your eyes widen, “here?!”

“It’s not like that!”

He grabs your wrist and closes his fingers around yours, keeping your index finger out.

“Put it in and touch the roof of your mouth.”

Your stomach flips with an unnamed feeling at his orders, even more when his eyes watch the movement of your finger disappearing into your mouth.

You narrow your eyes, “it tickles.”

“Do you feel those bumps?”

You nod, like tiny folds gathered, hot and wet with your spit.

“That’s what it feels like.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” you wipe your hand on your skirt.

“The bumps are similar to the ones inside your…female parts.”

“How do you-“

You purse your lips, hyper aware of his minty breath wisping your hair around.

“How will that help me get rid of my fear?”

He inhales a shaky breath, eyes searching yours, “it won’t. But I-“

Your eyes fall shut when he grabs your cheeks and captures your lips with his, tongue sliding over yours when you gasp. You fist the front of his shirt, quickly matching his pace with soft suckles to his bottom lip. He swallows your moan when his tongue prods into your mouth, curling against the roof of your wet cavern. Your mind is running a mile a minute. He bobs his head, slick muscle staying rigid as he massages the bumps he made you feel earlier, heat collecting between your thighs.

Your hands skim across his chest, laying flat on his pecs as he continues to thrust his tongue. You whimper, grabbing his wrists when your lungs burn, too lost in the pleasure of his tongue rolling into your mouth.

He rests his forehead against yours, chest heaving, “I’m sorry.”

Your palms rest on shoulders, shaking your head, still thinking about the feeling of his tongue in your mouth.

He intertwines your fingers, you follow him giddily as you walk to your car.

When you’re settled in and about to drive away, fighting the simper on your face, he knocks on your window with his knuckle.

“See you on Saturday.”

His lips are more pink than usual, looking even more attractive under the moonlight.

“Saturday.”

The week drags by, with more work piling and your anticipation building. After that night, you couldn’t get the kiss out of your mind, swirling in your thoughts during the day, preventing you from focusing on your tasks.

You got home that night and called Jungkook, relaying the unexpected turn of events when you saw Taehyung. After you had repeated the entire conversation to him, he still had the same things to say. That he’s still wary, that you should be cautious and to remember who he is. It did annoy you, but you know that Jungkook has a point. Taehyung has a way with words, that’s how he made a reputation for himself in this small town.

But that doesn’t stop you from replaying the kiss in your head a million times, his blown-out pupils and soft lips. His tongue…

And, to your relief, vaginismus wasn’t a thing for you. Because that same night, hand slithering under your sheets, you dared to try something, and it felt…amazing. You’ve never experienced such an intense orgasm in your life and only one name dripped from your lips when you were lost in the pleasure.

You’re touching up your makeup when you realize that it’s almost 4PM. You’re too jittery to even give yourself a once over before you’re walking out the door and heading to the shelter.

Dozens of cars are parked on the sides of the road. You recognize Jungkook’s then Taehyung’s, hair at the back of your neck standing on edge when you see Taehyung near the shiny entrance doors.

You’re forced to park a few miles away from the building, trying not to trip over in your heels as you make your way toward Jungkook.

“Hey!”

He waves at you, one arm wrapped around Jiah’s waist. It’s odd to see Jungkook out in public like this and you’re happy for him. He also had his fair share of shitty relationships.

You’re peering over the crowd to look for a certain male when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey.”

His eyes disappear into slits as he smiles and you’re unable to speak, blubbering because he’s just a foot away.

“You look pretty.”

You open your mouth to thank him, but the mayor’s voice grabs his attention. He steps forward to stand next to his father, clapping as he congratulates and thanks everyone for their presence and effort.

“But, most of all,” he places his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, smiling proudly, “I want to thank my son.”

Everyone cheers and hollers, Taehyung’s shy smile making your heart race.

Jungkook leans down to whisper in your ear, “maybe I was wrong about him.”

You turn around to give him a confused look, “what?”

“He sponsored this building. It was supposed to be rented out.”

“How do you know this?”

“Jiah told me,” he shouts in your ear over the ruckus of the crowd, “she said that this building was his and he had plans to rent it out. But he didn’t.”

Your eyes are set on Taehyung, who’s guiding the people into the building for a tour. First, he let the homeless stay in the building on fourth street, then he sponsored another. Your heart is in your throat at his generosity.

When you walk past him to step into the brightly lit building that smells of lavender, he curls his fingers around your hand, pulling you to the side, stumbling along the sidewalk.

“Hey,” he smiles like earlier.

And you’re sporting your own grin this time, having found your voice.

“Hey.”

He thrusts his thumb in the direction of the building, “I can give you a tour another day, but I wanted to talk to you.”

You nod, nerves skyrocketing, blood rushing to your ears, “okay.”

He guides to his car and opens the passenger door for you as you get in, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress as you see him jog to the driver’s side, still smiling as he drives.

“So…What do you want to talk about?”

He licks his lips, brown hair covering his eyes slightly, “I’ll tell you in a bit. Let me find a good spot to park.”

The good spot he finds is the same park where you had your first real conversation, your first kiss. You’re hoping it wasn’t your last.

He combs his fingers through his hair and unclicks his seatbelt, facing you with a serious expression that makes your smile slip.

“I…”

You dip your head, so he meets your eyes, seeing the blank look on his face.

“I am sorry.”

You laugh, “for what?”

“I…kind of…did research.”

A frown replaces your smile, mostly of out perplexity, “research?”

“Yeah. But, only after the night at the car show. I swear.”

“What are you talking about, Taehyung?”

He groans, covering his face as he speaks, “I kind of asked around about you…at your workplace.”

“What?”

“Only because I was interested in you! And I never ever do that! Mostly it’s the other way around, but I know that literally everyone in this nosy town knows about me and my past and my habits.”

You grab his hand, not catching anything else he’s saying because you’re too focused on the first sentence.

“You were interested in me?”

He said he did research on you by asking around at your office? You have no idea what there was to say about you because none of them know you at all. The only thing they could’ve told him was that you throw a tantrum each time the coffee machine is out of order.

“I am…interested in you.”

You gulp, forgetting about your blooming feelings for him, how his pretty eyelashes make your throat constrict, how his lips haunt your every waking thought, how his smile flashes in your mind whenever you’re dozing off to sleep and how you think that if you spend even a second longer with him, you might fall, hoping he might catch you.

“I’m interested in you too,” you admit, appreciating the golden hour that sets a rosy tone to the feeling you haven’t experience in a long time.

He leans over and unclicks your seatbelt, warmth radiating off him while your heart sparks in your chest.

“Yeah?”

You nod, licking your lips reflexively, “yes.”

His eyes flit your lips, mouth appearing still even as he whispers with his low, husky voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

Trying to beat down the urge to jump his bones, you nod and await his kiss as he closes the distance, fingers dancing up your jaw until finally, your lips meet in a searing kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he places on hand on your waist, pulling you over the center console to sit on his lap.

He suckles on the skin of your jaw, earning a whimper from you when he grips your hair, licking the shell of your ear.

Involuntarily, you rock your hips forward, gasping when you feel his erection press into your core.

He pulls away from you to stare into your eyes, neck exposed to your ravenous gaze.

“Let’s go somewhere else, where you’d be comfortable.”

You swallow, fingers sliding across his collarbones to the sides of his neck.

“Okay.”

He sets you down in your seat and starts up the engine and you realize that this is happening. You’re going to have sex. This was probably how your friends felt in high school.

You don’t know how long he must’ve been calling your name, only when you feel his hand on your thigh do you return to reality.

You blink, seeing him smirk, a few buttons on his shirt undone. Was that your doing?

“Where would you be most comfortable?”

“My…bed.”

He nods, turning onto the road and driving as fast as the speed limit would let him, “your place it is. But…I need to get something quickly.”

Parking in front of the local drugstore, he hurries inside and appears five minutes later with a purple packet in hand.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

When you arrive at your apartment, you feel like the energy that was surging through you in the car has fizzled out, but when he shrugs off his blazer and stuffs his hands in his pockets like he usually does, you feel it again. The tug between your legs.

You pull off your cardigan and follow him into the lounge, wringing your hands nervously.

“Do you want something to drink?”

He catches your gaze, shaking his head and returning to admiring the ornaments you have kept on your bookshelf.

You’re nervous, you don’t know if you should sit on the couch and wait or strip in your bedroom.

Seeing the purple packet on your coffee table, you reach for it to inspect its contents. A bottle of lube and condoms. Eyes bugging out when you read the size.

You fling the packet onto the table when you feel the couch shift, forcing a nervous smile onto your face.

He takes your hand in his, “we don’t-“

“I want to,” you blurt, seeing something fond swirl in his brown orbs.

He tucks one arm under your thighs and wraps the other around your back, your hands fly to his neck as he carries you to your room.

“Okay.”

He stops at the entrance of your hallway, and you direct him to your room, clutching onto his neck as he sets you down on the bed.

The purple packet is set on your nightstand as he unbuttons his shirt while you move to unzip your red dress.

He pushes your hands away, smoothing your hair to one side as he drags the zipper down, breaths mingling as he tugs it down your shoulders.

He lets his shirt fall to the floor while you admire his sinewy chest, salivating as he unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops, the leather joins his shirt on the floor with a loud clank.

“I’m gonna take off your dress now.”

Nodding frantically, you lift your hips as he pulls your dress over your legs, crossing your arms over your chest after a sudden feeling of diffidence.

Your eyes dart to his massive erection straining in his slacks, you lean forward and return the favor, rolling it down his legs.

He pushes your shoulder so you’re lying on your back, eyes stuck to the swell of your boobs.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your breath catches in your throat when he noses through your hair, hands sliding down over each contour of your body, squirming under him. His fingers work on unclasping your bra, tossing it over his shoulder.

He steals the breath from your lungs with a passionate kiss, fingers intertwining with yours as his tongue flicks into your mouth, grunting when you nudge his erection with your knee.

“Not yet, dove,” he begins to kiss down your neck, pulling the skin between his teeth, suckling and leaving dots of purple and pink wherever his mouth rests. Wet patches glistening in the early evening light when he feathers kisses on your stomach.

Nothing you say or do will calm your heart, you’re so lost in his touch, and intoxicating scent that belongs to him only, and you can’t imagine what it would feel like to have him inside you, to be connected to him.

He kneels between your legs, statuesque frame towering over you as he holds up your leg by your ankles, kissing the soft skin there all while holding eye contact. You keep your hands at your sides, pussy clenching when his lips drag down the skin behind your knee, to your inner thigh.

“Have you ever been eaten out before?”

You nod.

You resist the urge to clamp your legs shut when he stares unabashedly at the wet patch on your panties, shivering when he keeps his ring clad fingers wrapped around the supple flesh of your thighs, kneading the meat.

“You smell delicious, dove. Can’t wait to taste you.”

Pussy throbbing at his words, your soul feels like it might leave your body when his warm lips curl around your clit over the fabric of your panties, sucking the bead into his mouth.

His fingers curl over the hem of your underwear, pulling it up until it clings to your sodden folds, whimpers tumbling from your lips.

“Please.”

“Please what, dove?”

You crack your eyes open, it feels like a dream to have him between your legs, lips grazing the sensitive skin.

“Want your mouth,” you pant, lifting your hips when he pulls the thin material over the swell of your ass. A long string of your arousal threads from your folds and snaps against your thigh, knowing that you’re dripping at this point.

He makes a ‘V’ shape with his fingers, spreading your folds, licking his lips as he ogles your glistening pussy.

At this point, the remains of your embarrassment go out the window when his breath fans across your swollen folds, you reach down to twist your fingers in his hair, pushing him to your aching pussy.

The low chuckle he lets out sends a shockwave up the length of your body, fizzing when he finally presses his tongue into your folds, spreading them apart with wiggles of his tongue, ensuing a string of moans from your swollen lips.

“Taehyung,” you breathe, grinding onto his tongue as he flexes it against your clit.

He hums, lips curling around your clit as his tongue switches from rigid to relaxed, dragging along your folds, flicking it against your engorged bud. You mewl, both hands in his hair now as your chase your high, feeling the rush of heat approach with each lick into your drenched pussy.

“I’m-“

You tense when you feel a finger circle your slit, eyes peeling open.

He pulls away, taking a deep breath, mouth and chin covered in your slick. He looks like sin.

“Don’t do that. Relax for me, dove.”

Closing your eyes once again, you inhale a shaky breath as he continues to suckle on your clit. His index finger trails through your folds, you tremble when his finger prods into your slit, legs sliding further apart once he pulls out and pushes in again, quiet moans filling the air with each thrust.

“That’s it, dove,” his soothing voice is what keeps you relaxed, fingers resting on your breast as he continues to massage your walls.

When he hooks his finger, you twitch, almost like there’s a button inside you that has your whole body erupting in a wave of goosebumps.

“Ah. Right there?”

“Mhmm,” you chew on your bottom lip, back arching when he adds another finger into your clenching hole, pants of his name breaking from your chest with each tug, each brush against your sweet spot.

His lips return to your clit, and you cry out, hips jerking off the mattress as he quickens the movement of his fingers, curling them into you until you’re shaking, chest heaving.

Your eyes scrunch shut when his teeth nip your clit, walls quivering around his fingers that still piston into your pussy at breakneck speed, scissoring your walls, spasming with his ministrations as you coat his tongue and fingers.

The heat subsides as your eyes slide open, vision a bit bleary as you take in the sight of him sucking on his fingers, pussy throbbing even more when he moans.

“Can’t wait to bury my cock in this tight pussy.”

He misinterprets your whine, helping you up on the bed so your head rests on the pillow, features morphing into worry.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, okay dove? We’ll take it nice and slow.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, pulling him down for a soft kiss that has you melting into the sheets. He struggles to open his eyes once you lean back to stare at his face, boxy grin making your heart flutter.

“Thank you,” you peck his cheek.

He smiles and crawls down the bed to fetch the purple packet.

You watch him patiently as he takes the plastic wrap around the lube between his teeth, pulling at it until he can get the cap open.

Eyes set on yours, he slowly pulls off his Calvin Klein boxer briefs, you bite back a whimper when his thick, veiny cock springs out, bobbing against his abdomen.

“I promise it won’t hurt.”

You watch with awe as he rolls down the condom and then squirts the clear liquid over the length, eyebrows furrowed as he spreads it all over. He hisses when he does it again, you feel bad for him, his pleasure was neglected for worry over yours. You hope that the next time is better for him. If there is a next time.

He leans over you, one arm holding him up while the other grabs the base of his cock and lines him up with your entrance. Your anxiety builds again, and you feel him tip your chin up.

“Take a deep breath and close your eyes for me, dove.”

Quick to obey, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as his chest presses against yours, feeling the blunt tip breach your slit. It pinches, and you gasp. His hand slides along the length of your arm, face buried in your neck, fingers slotting together.

You feel stuffed, and just when you think he’s going to pull out, he goes deeper. Levels inside you which you never knew existed.

“Is it…in yet?”

He suckles on your earlobe, murmuring in your ear, “almost.”

With a shuddering cry, you feel him hit what you think is the final level, moans heightening in pitch as he drags out, then pushes back in, whispering in your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, dove.”

“Fuck, so tight.”

“I hope you’re doing, okay.”

It feels like an intrusion, but at the same time, it feels like a gap that needed to filled by his cock, so snug in your warm walls, stretching you open, bordering on pain and pleasure.

He grunts and you assure that it’s okay, that you’re fine, that it feels good to have him on top of you like this, sweaty bodies stuck together, intertwined as he flexes his hips against yours, scent fogging your mind, nipples brushing his chest.

Your teeth pierce into his shoulder when his cock brushes your sweet spot, mewling as he sets a pace.

“Yeah? Like that?”

He continues to roll his hips with deliberate strokes, rubbing along your velvety walls. You feel his cock twitch inside you, nails raking down his back, marking his neck with your teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him reach even deeper.

“Fuck,” his thrusts become shallow, reaching down to rub your clit with his thumb in tight circles.

You moan, body prickling with goosebumps as your second high hits you, convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He stills his hips, whispering your name huskily as he spills into the condom, fingers digging into your hips.

He kisses up the valley of your breasts, and you’re only made aware of your tears when he wipes them away, pussy aching as he slips out of you and discards of the condom.

Rolling over on your side, the reality of the situation hits you as you pull the blanket over your clammy body, the air around you slightly stuffy.

It isn’t long before you feel him settle behind you, placing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

You turn around in his hold, cheek pressed against his chest.

“Yeah.”

Suddenly feeling sticky, you throw the blanket over your shoulder and step out of bed only to fall back on the mattress due to your wobbly legs.

“Woah,” he laughs, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket.

He smooths a strand of hair over your head, murmuring, “where are you going?”

“To shower.”

“Okay. But wait for a while.”

As you stare into those chocolatey eyes, you wonder what happens now. With the two of you. You’re still interested in him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, choosing not to kill the mood, pressing your back against his chest. The dull ache between your legs hurts the more you move.

His finger curls under your chin, pulling you to face him, mouth so close to yours.

“Are you having doubts about us?”

“Us?”

He nods, taking your intertwined fingers and bringing it up to his lips, lips moving over the skin.

“Yes. Us. If you want us? I mean, me?”

You giggle, eyes darting to every inch of his face, placing your lips on the little mole on his nose.

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Grinning at each other for a few minutes, you can’t help but feel gross cuddling like this.

“Can I shower now?”

He pretends to think for a while before he’s placing a kiss on your temple.

“Only if I can shower with you.”

Mouth going dry at the prospect, you twist in his hold, wrapping your arms around his back.

“Okay.”

His boxy smile returns, eyebrow jumping with mischief.

You’ve never enjoyed a shower more in your life, plus a peaceful sleep, and a calming breakfast. And you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with a tender-hearted man that makes it so delightful.

a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)

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