#OBJECT COUNTING TECHNOLOGY

[al-luviec]

compiled whatever this is (and I run out of tag space)

meh HoT gifs (3/?)

[txttletale]

hey what’s up, i think you’re pretty cool but disagree with you on the whole ai can make art thing. to me, without the purpose from an actual person creating the piece, it’s not art but an image; as all human art has purpose. some driving factor in a work, compared to a program which purely creates the prompt without further intention. i was wondering what your insight on this is? either way, hope you have a great day

well, first of all, does art require 'purpose'? there's this view of art which has very much calcified in "anti-AI" rhetoric, that art is some linear process of communication from one individual to another: an Artist puts some Meaning into a unit of Art, which others can then view to Recieve that Meaning. you can hold this view, but i don't! i'm much more of a stuart hall-head on this, i think that there is no such transfusion of Intent and that rather the 'meaning' of a piece is something that exists only in the interplay between text and reader. reading is an active, interpretative process of decoding, not a passive absorptive one. so i dispute, firstly, that 'purpose' is to begin with a necessary or even imporant element of art.

moreover i think this argument rests on a very arbitrarily selective view of what counts as "an actual person creating the piece" -- 'the prompt' is, itself, an obvious artistic contribution, a place where an artist can impart huge amounts of direction, vision, and so on. in fact, i completely reject the claim of both the technology's salesman and its biggest detractors that genAI "makes art" -- to quote kerry mitchell's fractal art manifesto: "Turn a computer on and leave it alone for an hour. When you come back, no art will have been generated." in the past, i've posed questions about generative art pieces to demonstrate this

secondly, of course, the process does not end after image generation from prompt for serious generative artists--the ones who are serious about the artform (rather than tech guys trying to do marketing for the Magical Art Box) frequently iterate and iterate, generating a range of iterations and then picking one to iterate on further, so on and so forth, until the final image they choose to share is one that contains within it the traces of a thousand discrete choices on behalf of the artist (two pretty good explanations of this from people who actually do this stuff can be found here and here)

third and finally, that very choice to share the image is itself an artistic decision! we (and by we, i mean, anyone who cares about what art is) have been talking about this since fountain -- display is a form of artistic intent, taking something and putting it forward and saying 'this is art' is in and of itself an artistic decision being made even if the thing itself is unaltered: see, for example, the entire discipline of 'found art'. once someone challenged me, yknow, "if you did a google search, would that be art?" and my answer to that is, if you screenshot that google search and share it as art, then yes, resoundingly yes! curation and presentation recontextualizes objects, turning them into rich texts through the simple process of reframing them. so even if you granted that genAI output is inherently random computer noise (i don't, of course) -- i still think that the act of presenting it as art makes it so.

since i assume you're not familiar with anything interesting in the medium, because the most popular stuff made with genAI is pure "lo-fi girl in ghibli style" type slop, let me share some genAI pieces (or genAI-influenced pieces) that i think are powerful and interesting:

the meat gala, rob sheridan (warning: body horror!)

secret horses (does anyone know the original source on this?)

infinite art machine, reachartwork

ethinically ambigaus, james tamagotchi

mcdonalds simpsons porn room, wayneradiotv

software greatman, everything everything (the music is completely made by the band, but genAI was partially responsible for the lyrics -- including the title and the several interesting pseudo-kennings)

i want a love like this music video, everything everything

cocaine is the motor of the modern world, bots of new york

poison the walker, roborosewatermasters (here's my analysis posts on it too)

not all of these were necessarily intended as art: but i think they are rich and fascinating texts when read that way -- they have certainly impacted me as much as any art has.

anyways, whether you agree or not, i hope this gives you some stuff to think about, thanks for sharing your thoughts :)

[yzzart]

DARLING, AND I WILL BRING YOU HOME ── KENJI SATO

── summary: While Ken and Emi trained, played together, you were in the stands, cheering them on; unearthing a memory from Kenji's mind.

── content warnings: F!reader, fiance!kenji, scenes of Ken and Emi playing together, mention of Emiko and Professor Sato, a little angst but with comfort in the end!

── word count: 899!

"Lets go, girl!"

Kenji's voice exclaims, in a high and benevolent tone, highlighting a magnanimous animation and excitement for the peaceful environment, so serene and enchanting; hearing the return of his voice through the stillness of the place. — A lovely place, capable of leaving anyone speechless. — A space to call his own.

Fixing and comfortably positioning the cap, Sato takes two steps back and raises his hand for the second time. — Waiting for the attention and focus he were looking for.

“You can do it, you know that, don’t you?” — He questioned with support, helping the big baby lizard; who, in response, grunted gently, without lacking her tenderness, and shook her small, and immense, arms. — "Of course you know!" — He expressed, proudly.

“Go, Emi!” — Claps, associates of euphoria, entering into a condition of encouragement, from you; earning affectionate glances and admiring expressions from Sato and the baby. — “Make me proud!” — You got into the rhythm, feeling the wave of encouragement, content in the crowd. — Like you did every time you watched Kenji's games.

Sitting in the stands, made, technologically, by Mina, which easily reproduced a real and authentic Baseball field, containing all the tiny and relevant details. — Including the fact that that field was always chosen by Kenji. — You watch them play.

Moments, scenes, like these had already become routine between you; bringing cycles of leisure, distraction and a way to teach practical notions to Emi. — Which was, faithfully, important and approved by Professor Sato. — In addition to directing, training and, again, further preparing Kenji's passes for the championship; you advised him, agreeing that it could help him.

"Did you hear her?" — He tilted his head toward you, earning an excited squeal and a blink, with precision, from Emi. — "Pay attention to the ball, like last time." — Kenji swung the small ball, attracting her concentration, and smiled when he realized he was reaching it. — "There you go!" — With a strong throw, intending a stable impulse, Kenji threw the ball towards the adorable creature.

With the basic reflexes, which, by the way, were being amplified, upon seeing the small object heading towards her, Emi, holding the huge bat, easily bounced the ball and shot so far that it disappeared into the programmed sky. — Being worthy of an incredible play.

"That's right, baby!" — You shouted, standing up, quickly, with enthusiasm, burning with exaltation and vibration, raising your arms up. — The baby lizard, finding your voice, directed her head towards you; smiling, dazzled by her celebration and, even though she didn't understand so many things, she happily got excited.

It was not possible, much less plausible, to counter the emotions, and old sensations, that came from Kenji's chest; conceiving an ardor of passion, bonds of fascination upon hearing their cries of celebration. — In addition to your claps, the way you had gotten up and approached the field, wanting, in some way, to capture every little point of the play. — He remembered, with such grace and delicacy, the moments when his mother watched him play.

Not missing any matches, even training, she was present; shouting, clamoring, cheering for little Kenji. — Recording all the games, leaving them as souvenirs and secretly sending them to his father; Ken wasn't aware of that, he wasn't that. — Emiko was always there for him and with him.

And watching, witnessing you accompanying him, lifting him, supporting him and guiding him for so long — now, caring, by his side, for a young Kaiju — guides Kenji towards a light, deeply, pure and loyal to all the love he could feel in his heart. life. — The same light that guided his father to his mother.

"Now, run the bases, girl!" — He warned, smiling and ecstatic about the result, and signaling Mina to follow Emi, who quickly flew towards her. — "I'm proud!" — He exclaimed and was responded to with a loud and cheerful, and slightly breathless, scream.

Moving away from where he was, leaving Emi running across the field, Kenji took steps towards you, never stopping to smile, even more so, hearing the baby's amused grunts and seeing the adorable and charming expression on your face. — Also, influenced by the fact that you are wearing one of his caps. — Contemplating you once again.

"She's getting better and better." — You said, biting the lower part of your cheek, bowing your head, looking at the young man and raising one of your hands to his t-shirt, repairing a small and insignificant dent.

"That's good, however…" — He looked up, acting as if he were thinking about something convenient, promising. — "…i feel like our girl could surpass me at any moment." — He joked, in a mix of drama and suffering.

Taking you by surprise, even though you were so used to his comments, you couldn't contain a beautiful and melodic laugh, shaking your head, refusing to believe his words; but, feeling your heart warm when you heard the magnanimous and dazzled way in which Kenji recognized Emi. — Letting that phrase repeat itself in your mind.

Kenji was right, you hadn't, and wouldn't dare, disagree about what he had said; no one could.

"Our girl…" — You murmured, conveying tenderness and softness in the small words. — Resting your head on Kenji's chest, being able to hear his heartbeat, and feeling one of his strong and safe arms around your waist, bringing caresses to the area, you and Sato saw Emi running through the large and beautiful field.

[joaeriz]

8 LETTERS (Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader)

📎 inspired by “8 Letters” by Why Don’t We 📖 fluff | slow burn | soft romance | college AU 💌 word count: ~2.8k

summary: When Y/N is assigned to write a feature on UConn’s star player Paige Bueckers, the last thing she expects is late-night FaceTimes, secret hangouts, and catching real feelings. As the line between friendship and something more starts to blur, both girls are left wondering if they’re brave enough to say the eight letters that could change everything.

authors note: (Okay, so before you jump in—I just wanna say I had so much fun writing this. It’s honestly a mix of two of my favorite things ever: Paige Bueckers (who I adore) and “8 Letters” by Why Don’t We (which lives rent-free in my head, always). The idea hit me out of nowhere—like, what if that kind of soft, slow, “I love you but I’m scared to say it” kind of story played out between Y/N and Paige? And it just spiraled from there in the best way. I got way too emotionally invested in these two (not sorry), and writing all the cute moments, the late-night FaceTimes, and the feelings they’re both too scared to admit? Ugh. I loved every second.So if you’re into a little angst, a lot of softness, and some seriously sweet vibes, I hope this gives you butterflies the way it gave me butterflies writing it. Thanks for reading—it means so much. — Jo)

P.s: this is my first fic i have posted on here!! Im not new at writing, but let me know if you guys want more :)

You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your story subject.

That was rule number one of journalism school. No dating your interviewees, no crushes on profile pieces, no getting involved. But rules felt irrelevant the first time Paige Bueckers smiled at you like you were more than another face with a notepad.

Your assignment was simple—write a semester-long feature on the UConn women’s basketball team for the student paper. Paige, naturally, was the center of the piece. A star on and off the court. Already a national name. Every sports journalist dreamed of covering her.

You were supposed to remain objective.

Instead, you were falling for her.

Hard.

—

It started with a dead recorder.

Your first real conversation wasn’t planned—unless you count fate as a planner. You’d been huddled near the sideline at practice, trying to record a quote from one of the assistant coaches when your recorder sputtered out and died mid-sentence. You swore under your breath and slapped it, like that ever helped.

Paige had been walking by, sipping on a water bottle, and stopped. “Need backup?”

You looked up, startled. “Only if you’ve got a time machine.”

She smiled. “Nope. But I’ve got the Voice Memos app.”

She handed over her phone like it was no big deal—like she hadn’t just offered you her lifeline. You blinked. “You trust a random reporter with your phone?”

“You don’t seem like the type to scroll through texts.” She leaned in with a smirk. “Besides, you’ve got an honest face. And a tragic relationship with electronics.”

You laughed, cheeks heating. She stayed next to you for a few minutes, watching as you wrapped up your interview with her phone in hand. When it was over, she texted you the audio file with the message:

“Try not to let your technology trauma ruin your career.”

You responded with a lame thank-you and a joke about threatening your recorder with a hammer. You didn’t expect her to reply.

But she did.

“Violence is rarely the answer, but I’ll allow it.”

From there, it snowballed. Texts turned into full-blown threads. Threads into daily check-ins. She started sending random memes between practices—some sports-related, some completely unhinged—and you’d match her energy with cursed TikToks and sarcastic commentary.

Then came the first FaceTime.

You were editing audio at 11:47 p.m. when her name lit up your screen. Paige Bueckers is FaceTiming you.

You stared at it for a second. Then answered.

She was wrapped in a hoodie with damp hair and tired eyes, lying in bed. “Hey,” she said softly. “Didn’t wanna be alone tonight.”

That first call lasted three hours.

You talked about everything: your major, her injuries, your complicated relationship with your hometown, her fear of letting people down. She confessed that sometimes, the pressure made her want to run away to a place where no one knew her name.

You said you understood.

After that, it became routine. Late-night FaceTimes. Morning Snapchats. Study breaks where she'd call and say, “Tell me something random,” and you’d ramble about your day while she half-listened, half-dozed.

—

The first time you hung out outside of school was under the guise of an interview follow-up.

She invited you to a local coffee shop—some cozy little place with plants in every window and tables just slightly too small. You showed up with your laptop and pages of notes. Paige showed up in a hoodie and beanie, no makeup, looking infuriatingly good.

You talked for two hours.

Only twenty minutes was about basketball.

She paid for your drink when you weren’t looking.

“I’ll Venmo you,” you said, pretending to dig for your phone.

She just shrugged. “Nah. Call it a reporter’s hazard fee.”

After that came more not-quite-dates. Study sessions in the campus library where she never actually studied. Walks through the trail behind the dorms where she'd kick pebbles and talk about life like it was something she hadn’t quite figured out yet.

One night, she invited you to “movie night” with the team.

You showed up with snacks and nerves, expecting a whole crowd.

But it was just her.

Two mugs of hot chocolate already on the table. A blanket tossed casually over the couch. She tried to play it off. “The others bailed,” she claimed with a sheepish shrug.

She was a terrible liar.

You stayed anyway.

She fell asleep halfway through the second movie with her head on your shoulder, and you didn’t dare move.

After that night, everything shifted.

—

There were moments. God, there were moments.

The way her hand would brush yours when she passed you something and linger—just a second too long. The way she’d light up when you walked into a room, like you were the only one she’d been waiting for. How she’d say things like:

“Sometimes I forget how to breathe around you.”

And then immediately pretend it was a joke.

You wanted to say it.

You almost did—on Valentine’s Day, when she left a note in your dorm mailbox with a chocolate bar and the words “you’re my favorite notification.”

But you chickened out.

Because if she didn’t feel the same way, you’d lose her. And that possibility was more terrifying than staying quiet.

But then came the silence.

She started pulling away. Fewer texts. Missed calls. Short replies like:

“Practice ran late.” “Sorry, just tired.” “Talk soon?”

And soon became never.

Until the day it broke.

—

It was cold. Rainy. The kind of day that made everything feel heavier. You were walking past the practice facility, hood up, heart aching, when you saw her.

Paige. Alone. Leaning against the wall like she was waiting for something—or someone.

You slowed. She looked up.

“I think we should stop,” she said.

Your stomach dropped. “Stop…?”

“This. Us. I don’t know what this is to you, and I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with not knowing.”

You blinked, throat closing.

“I’m not asking you to guess,” you managed to say.

“Well, then tell me,” she whispered. “Because I think about you all the time, and I don’t know how to make it stop. And it hurts, Y/N. It hurts not knowing if I’m just another story to you.”

And finally—finally—you said the words.

“You asked what love looks like to me.”

She held her breath.

“It looks like you. Like FaceTime calls at midnight and cold coffee on a Sunday morning. It’s how you fight through everything and still smile like you’re not carrying the weight of the world. I didn’t say it before because I was scared, but I’m more scared of losing you.”

Her eyes glossed. She stepped closer.

“You love me?” she asked, barely a whisper.

“I do.”

And when she kissed you, it was soft and shaky and real. Like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

—

That night, your article sat unfinished.

She lay beside you on your tiny dorm bed, her hand brushing yours under the covers, the silence between you humming with peace.

“Say it again,” she murmured.

You smiled.

“I love you.”

Eight letters.

—

It had been twenty-six days since you told Paige you loved her.

Twenty-six days since she kissed you in the rain like her world had just started spinning again.

Twenty-six days since things finally became real.

And every single one of those days had felt like waking up in the softest dream.

Being with Paige wasn’t loud or flashy—not most of the time. It was slow mornings in bed, tangled limbs and quiet whispers. It was FaceTiming just to sit in silence while you both worked. It was warm hoodies borrowed without asking, and her stealing your socks because “they’re the soft ones.”

It was peace.

One Sunday morning, you found her asleep on your couch, wearing your crewneck and hugging your stuffed animal. She’d crashed the night before after watching movies in your room, the two of you curled together on your tiny dorm bed until she got too warm and rolled onto the floor, dramatically sighing, “This is why we need a queen-sized mattress and a lease.”

You’d laughed, thinking she was joking.

Then she blinked up at you and said, totally serious, “Like… a place. You and me. Off campus. Someday.”

Your heart soared, and you tucked the idea away like a wish on a star.

Later, she sleepily mumbled, “I want you in my mornings and my nights.”

And you knew she meant it.

—

Dating Paige came with little adventures.

Like the time she surprised you with a picnic—on a Tuesday.

You’d been having the worst week: deadlines, papers, zero sleep. Paige texted you in the middle of class: “Be ready at 6. Trust me.”

You met her behind the student union, expecting takeout and a movie.

Instead, she’d laid out a blanket under a canopy of fairy lights she somehow got from the volleyball team’s gear closet. There was music playing from a Bluetooth speaker, a thermos of your favorite hot cocoa, and a little box of cupcakes from the bakery you once mentioned you liked.

“I know you’re overwhelmed,” she said, pulling you into a hug. “So I’m forcing you to pause. Just for tonight.”

You nearly cried.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

She kissed your forehead and grinned. “Nah. We deserve each other.”

—

Her love came in a thousand small ways.

When your period hit hard, she showed up with snacks, heating pads, and the world’s ugliest cartoon pajamas she said were “scientifically proven to improve moods.” (They did.)

When she won a game, she didn’t go out with the team—she came to your place and danced with you barefoot in the kitchen to 2000s R&B.

When you got a bad grade on a paper and spiraled about being “not good enough,” she held your face in her hands and said, “You’re brilliant. One grade doesn’t get to rewrite the story.”

She never let you forget your worth—even when you did.

—

Your favorite tradition was Sunday mornings.

You’d wake up slow—her arm slung lazily around your waist, her cheek against your shoulder. She always looked soft in the mornings, voice scratchy, hair messy, face unfiltered.

“Don’t look at me,” she’d mumble, burying her face in the pillow.

You always did anyway.

You’d take turns making breakfast—read: burning toast and debating whether Pop-Tarts counted as a real meal. You’d play records on your vintage player, dance around the room in socks, kiss in the doorway like it was a scene from a movie.

She called you “home” once.

You didn’t say anything in return.

You just pulled her into your chest and held her tighter than words could manage.

—

There were no more secrets now.

People knew. Slowly, sure. But Paige had started holding your hand in public. At first on quieter streets, where no one looked. Then at campus parties. Then at a game.

After a home win, she ran over to the bleachers—where you were waiting—and kissed you in front of a thousand fans and a dozen cameras.

“I love you,” she said breathlessly. “Needed you to know before anything else.”

The video went viral. The team teased her endlessly.

She didn’t care.

Neither did you.

—

One night, lying in bed with your laptop open on your stomach and Paige half-asleep beside you, you said, “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

She looked up. “Because of me?”

You smiled. “Because of us.”

She kissed your shoulder and whispered, “Let’s stay like this forever.”

And maybe the future held more challenges—graduation, jobs, long-distance talks if things got complicated.

But for now, you had everything you needed.

Her heartbeat beside yours. Her laughter echoing in your chest. And the words you once feared to say now lived freely between you.

“I love you.” Eight letters. Forever on repeat.

[jaggedamethyst]

bucky barnes and his physical media

pairing: bucky x reader, use of she and girl once or twice

content: bucky is obsessed with physical media, especially photos…but he hates being in them. you try to change that.

notes: minors dni, slight smut but it’s honestly pretty tame here, some obligatory bucky angst. i don’t believe in proofreading I fear.

word count: 1.8k

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Growing up Bucky quickly gained a fondness for cameras. He loved to capture the images of those he loved--moments in time for which he could always look back on when he missed them.

He considered himself a confident guy and took said pictures at any opportunity he was given. He figured someone would always want to look at a face that perfect, if he could say so himself.

It was different, though, when the reflected images no longer were of the young man so keen on going to war. When the moment in time was one that could only elicit one of fear. He couldn’t recognize himself these days, not after being the Winter Soldier. The man was now adamant about not having memories that preserved him as he was now. Not when he was a shell of the man he’d known years ago.

If he absolutely had to take pictures, he was even more sure it would never be on a fucking phone. Not only are they the most fickle objects imaginable, he also hated the damn cloud. He wasn’t entirely prehistoric; he understood when people said that it was a way to store things…but a cloud. He’d had one too many mishaps with technology that things randomly disappearing from the cloud was not too far fetched in his mind. If he had to preserve something special to him it would absolutely be in an album. An album was tangible, and if it came to it, he could easily grab the stack of them in a hurry.

Physical media was absolutely near and dear to him. Whenever an old show was nowhere to be found, he clung to his DVD sets like a lifeline. The same could be said of his photo albums. They quickly became a way for him to reclaim some of the power he felt was lost with his mind. But taking pictures and storing them, to him, was therapeutic.

That's how he ended up with several albums on his shelf. Some were miscellaneous, ones that had yet to be sorted. Others solely for pictures of nature that he found calming to look at.

Nothing compared to the album he had of you, though.

An inadvertent smile would always creep up on his lips when his eyes met the spine of your album. Just the sight of your name sprawled in his handwriting was enough to make him feel warm inside. Inside were photos of you, some candid, others posed. He hated pictures, but for you he would at least attempt to stomach the feeling .

He flipped through the pages as he always did, feeling sort of proud he’d managed to take such great snapshots in time..and even more that he preserved them without the damn cloud.

Bucky made note to add more to this album; it wasn’t nearly as full as he’d like. With that, he swiftly closed the album—a gust of air causing one photo to fly out of the book. He grabbed the print that lay at his feet, not thinking much of it other than it would be returned to its rightful place among the other portraits of his girl.

As he flipped the picture, a heat quickly spread across the man’s cheeks. Oh. He definitely was not expecting this.

A selfie. Yes, that’s what it’s called. He’d learned that word a while ago. Somewhere in time he also learned that while people could be “in the nude,” they’d also referred to risqué photos similarly. Yes, a nude was how he would describe this one.

The man had seen many works of art in his day. Some of which were dedicated to his friend for his accomplishments in war. Others, of objects, like how Bucky would leisurely snap a photograph of a bird sitting stoic in a tree.

None of that compared to the polaroid he’d laid eyes on right now. His thoughts reeled in his mind, observing every detail. He knew it was hard to capture yourself in frame with these print cameras—no clear indication of what was in focus. But you were skillful.

The sun cascaded over your body, highlighting your skin in a way he’d never seen. He couldn’t see your face above your lips, but they curled in a way that seemed purposeful. How he’d do anything to see your eyes reflect the light of the sun that day. He slowly placed a finger on the photo, tracing the curve of your neck…your shoulder…your fingers.

No. He mentally groaned. The curl in your lips, a smirk, made sense now. You’d covered yourself where he wanted to see most. Hands crossed over your chest but your skin remained bare, teasing him. He felt so disgusted with himself even thinking this way, wanting to see more. It’s not like he hadn’t already, but in this moment the taunting imagery drove him up a wall.

He’s not sure when exactly he’d sat down on the couch or when his pants got to be pooled at his ankles. He’s even less certain of what time it is, but your footsteps approaching his door bought him back to reality. You’re off work.

The now strained fabric of his pants irritated him. Not only did your nude leave him extremely worked up, but he didn’t even finish before you got back.

Your voice resounded from the door, “Buck! I left the key, can you open up?”

“Coming!” He froze, an audible huff leaving his nostrils at the poorly timed reply.

He placed the photo in his back pocket before stalking towards the door.

With a swift swing, the door opened to your smile on the other side. Unlike the mischievous smirk that was printed in the picture in his pocket, this one was borderline affable. He let out what could only be described a a mixture between a scoff and chuckle.

You quirked a brow, “um, what's funny?” You rounded the space left by Bucky’s shoulders, making your way towards the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Bucky replied with a hint of sarcasm, “just had a bit of a weird day.”

“Really?” You turned to start the faucet, washing your hands before looking for something to drink. “You…wanna talk about it?”

The man felt his chest continue to rise and fall at an erratic pace. As the water continued to trickle he became painfully aware of the situation in his jeans at the present. Fuck it.

He reached for his pocket, quickly whipping the film towards your back.

He tried to level his voice in an attempt at asking his next question in the most nonchalant way he could muster. “Baby…what’s this?”

You craned your head away from the faucet a bit, “huh?” Grasping a towel, you slowly turned towards the sound of Bucky’s voice. “What’s wha- oh-”

An obvious shock appeared on your face but had he not looked close enough he would have missed it. The shift to an indifferent facial expression perplexed the man--even more when you replied in a chipper tone.

“Oh! I just got this new camera the other day at the store.” You moved past him, turning the corner and heading down the hall towards the junk closet you guys kept. He followed your movement with his eyes, stuck in place with pure intrigue. The distance and scrambling left your voice low to his ear. “You wanna see it? It's so cool and it wasn't too expensive!”

He moved back towards the couch, slouching a bit. “Sure, baby.”

Bucky twisted his head at the sound of you walking, no skipping, back towards the living room. “This thing is so easy to use, Buck. I feel like a pro like you.”

“I am not a pro,” he mumbled, his hand meeting his forehead.

He felt a hand on him, brushing his hair back. The nudge forcing him to lift his head to meet your eye. You’d knelt on the floor in front of him.

“I,” you planted a kiss on his cheek, “think you are amazing at taking pictures.” A pause loomed in the air, “but I wanted to do something for you…show you can be a great subject too.”

You placed a finger on his shoulder, urging him to lay back. “You should get comfortable, Buck…because this,” you gingerly plucked the photo from his grasp “is just the first installment to an amazing collection I think we will have.”

Bucky absolutely needed to work on his recollection skills—his ability to focus too. He again found himself with his pants down and no idea of how he’d come to be that way. This time, a cool breeze swept against his chest—his shirt somehow flung across the room. He absolutely did not mind, though.

The way in which you seemed to be skilled at everything truly blew his mind. With only a hand pumping him up and down, slowly at that, he’d found himself writhing against you. Whispers fell on deaf ears, as he’d quickly become overstimulated from his lack of release before.

“I- I-,” he stumbled as he usually did with you. There was no time when you were together when he didn’t feel at a loss for words. But here, with himself dripping all over your hands, your eyes looking at him expectantly, and your gentle lips grazing against his skin—he was struggling to even say more than one syllable.

You assured him, “it's okay, I know.” Simple words, but enough to make his insides tingle.

“Fuck…please,” he uttered your name. “I can’t-“

Your soft hands grasped his face again, a silent request for his eye contact.

It was so unfair, he knew that she knew that’d be his weakness. As quickly as it started, Bucky would finally finish. A feeling of euphoria and relief rushed the man, his skin prickly and glossed over with sweat.

“This is perfect,” he lowered his head a bit to see you back on your knees, this time holding your hands up. An arched brow raised on his face once more…you could be so damn elusive sometimes. At a further look, he could see you there, one eye closed. He searched between your hands, they were making L shapes in the air.

“Actually perfection,” you said with a flourish of your fingers. You leaned back, grasping your camera from the coffee table. “Now, be good James and don’t ruin my work.”

“I don’t know what you mean-“

Your finger met his skin, softly mixing in with the wetness now drenching his lower abdomen. He felt you marking a shape into the puddle—a heart?

Before he could even register, a flash. You’d taken a photo.

“Like I said, perfection.”

You left the polaroid beside the other on the coffee table, planting a kiss on the man's lips this time.

Bucky’s smile creeped up on his face, a happiness enveloping him.

“I think we need a new album.”

[dearhargrove]

Sink or swim

summary When the tsunami hits you're at the pier, watching in confusion and shock as the huge wave nears. You're swept away with a dozen others but gain back consciousness with a weirdly attractive guy and his.. son?

tags medical inaccuracy (I made everything medical up pls ignore it), blood and injuries, one POV change, cursing

word count 2831

a/n just watched the episodes with the tsunami and oh my god? I’m so in love with Buck, Chris and Eddie. These three are adorable. Also these episodes were just good as hell, wtf? Andddd I hope I didn’t make any of them OOC (out of character) but if I did forgive me yall 🫶🏻 also English isn’t my first language, so… 🥹

masterlist

Maybe you should've guessed what it meant when the sea started retreating and a huge wave built up more by the second. But somehow it seemed so surreal that you didn't. You clung to the thought that it was an optical illusion, after all there was no way a tsunami would hit that one time you're at the pier.

Now moments later you regret not running faster, earlier or simply finding a spot to hide. You're pulled under the surface every few seconds, swallowing mouthfuls of salty seawater that makes your nose burn and eyes blur.

You're choking when you're swept against a hard object, it's sharp edge digging into your waist. “Fuck!” you curse, though it ends in a gurgle when more water sweeps over you.

When you resurface you're facing an object that turns out to be a sunken fire truck. The red is striking against the blue and Grey around you and you could cry at relief when you manage to hoist yourself onto it.

You're exhausted, your side hurts and you're dizzy. Your phone is useless, the water having destroyed the technology. Cursing, you pocket it again and lean back. You're about to relax, aware that it could take hours for emergency services to reach you when you hear high pitched screaming. You look up, just in time to see someone with a yellow sweater being pulled towards you with the current, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Jesus,” you swear and crawl to the edge of the truck, yelling to get their attention with your arm reached out as far as possible.

You almost faint when the person turns around and a small child looks at you, red glasses full of water and messy brown hair. He's crying, reaching out as he's struggling to stay afloat.

“Hey! I'm here, grab my hand!” You yell and lean over the ledge as far as you could. As soon as you saw that little boy you knew you'd jump after him if he couldn't grab your hand now.

“I got you, sweetheart, come on!”

Your assurance seems to help and he kicks his legs, managing to move closer to where you are. In a split second you grab his hand and pull him over the railing and onto the truck, holding the little boy close to your chest in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, coughing a little as he adjusts his glasses. You try to look as calm and collected as possible, gently smiling at him and beckoning him further away from the railing and rushing water.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He shakes his head, biting his lip as he looks out at the water again. He must've been with someone else, you guess when he sits up at every piece floating by.

“Are you looking for someone?” You ask gently and he nods. He slowly speaks, hands fidgeting in his lap, “B-Buck. He's a firefighter.”

You stop yourself from cooing at this adorable child and nod, “We're gonna find him, okay? Just stay here and it'll be okay.”

He looks worried but slowly nods. You go back to sitting between him and the railing, looking out for anyone else.

Just as you spot someone, the small boy moves rapidly and pulls your shirt, “Buck! It's Buck!” He stutters loudly.

You whip your head back around to the rushing water and try thinking of a way to save him too. You couldn't just grab his hand, he would probably just pull you off the truck and you wouldn't risk leaving the kid by himself.

“Shit,” You mumble as you look for a way to help the man, the boy desperately crying out for ‘Buck’ behind you.

It seems you don't need to do much when something slams into the truck and seconds later the man pulls himself up and next to you.

And, damn. He was attractive. His dark blonde curls stick to his forehead as his blue eyes fixate on you and then the boy, strong arms holding him up as a smile builds on his lips, “Christopher!”

You move a bit as the two reunite, the boy- Christopher throwing his arms around the man's neck and giggling wildly.

You watch with a smile, the adorable sight momentarily distracting you from the tsunami keeping not just you but these two strangers trapped on top of a fire truck.

He turns around after a minute, keeping Christopher in his lap as he looks at you. He clears his throat and nods, “Thank you for saving him.” You shake your head and wave your hand in dismissal, unsure how to deal with compliments.

“No, really. I was going crazy when I couldn't find him,” his eyes are fixed on your face and you blame the heat creeping up your neck onto the temperature changes from the water and sun, smiling nervously. “It's all good. Your son is a sweetheart.”

He chuckles, “He definitely is. Though he's not my son,” he mentions, poking the boy's side when he mumbles something. You quickly nod, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-” he shakes his head and a relaxed smile sets on his face.

“It's fine, don't worry. Did you have any luck reaching 911?” You shake your head and hold up your broken phone, screen flickering sadly as you do. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair (you try not to stare at the hot sight because wow, what are the odds of meeting such an attractive man in the middle of a tsunami?).

“We're probably just gonna have to wait. It'll take time to get boats and units here. It probably looks like this everywhere,” he explains and you tilt your head in surprise before remembering that the kid had mentioned he's a firefighter. Meaning he knew the protocols.

“Right. Christopher mentioned you're a firefighter.” You smile when the boy perks up, a seemingly never faltering smile on his face. “Guess I'm lucky to be stuck with you. Safest I could be.” You shrug, a bashful smile on your face.

“Buck will s-save us all,” Christopher proclaims proudly and you coo at the cute boy. The man now seems a bit uneasy and sighs before his eyes widen, “Shit, right, I'm Evan. Everyone just calls me Buck, though.” You shake his outstretched hand and introduce yourself in turn, biting your lip as a nervous habit.

“So you're a firefighter?” You prompt curiously.

“It's a bit complicated right now…” He sighs, a frown setting on his forehead. You're about to apologize for overstepping when Christopher speaks up again, “He threw up blood.”

Your eyes widen and Evan- Buck pinches the boys’ side in reprimand. “Blood clots,” he elaborates as he looks at your slightly shocked expression. You hum sympathetically before realizing something. “Wait. You were the one trapped under that fire truck? On the news?”

He chuckles (which makes him even more attractive, what the actual fuck?) and nods, “Yep, that's me.”

You grimace in sympathy at the memory and automatically glance at his leg, “Is it all healed? You don't have to talk about it, it's fine if you don't-” he waves you off assuringly, looking relaxed.

“It's fine, don't worry. Yeah it healed fine, had some physical therapy and stuff but now I have blood clots kicking my a- butt.” He stops himself from cursing with Christopher on his lap and you almost smile at the adorable expression of confusion on the kid's face, when Buck presses his hands over both of his ears and whispers what he was originally going to say.

You laugh at the two and a relaxed and almost light atmosphere surrounds the three of you, momentarily disregarding your situation.

“It's kind of ironic isn't it?” He starts and you tilt your head in question. “You saved me, a firefighter, by pulling me onto a fire truck,” he elaborates and you can't help but chuckle, “Right. It should've been the other way around,” you sarcastically add and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

You relax back against the railing, your eyes drawn to Buck again just to notice him already looking at you. You cock your head questioningly and he bites his lip before grinning, “Sorry, you're just- like, really beautiful.”

Your jaw drops momentarily before you compose yourself and hide behind your hands, “Stop! Geez,” you laugh and he does as well. You exaggerate a shake of your head as you look at Christopher who giggles happily and exclaims, “He likes you!”

Now both you and Buck fluster as he continues, “He's always angry but n-now he's happy.” You notice the small struggle of getting his words out but you couldn't care less, you'd wait hours for this sweetheart to finish a sentence if you had to.

“Oh, really?” You ask in mock surprise and he eagerly nods before Buck intervenes, “Woah, Woah. I'm not always angry. Just.. grumpy.” Christopher makes it a point to look at him and then at you, rolling his eyes and shaking his head which makes it hard to refrain from laughing.

When Christopher busies himself with leaves floating around them Buck lowers his voice a bit as he speaks to you again, “Don't get the wrong impression it’s just, it’s hard. Not being able to work, saving people and all that.”

You nod quickly, “No worries. I’d go insane if I was in your place. I’m guessing they’re keeping you from really doing anything ‘dangerous’?” You ask, careful in case of him wanting to change the subject.

He nods and drops his head back against a siren light, “It is. They’re trying to put me behind a desk! I mean, I’m supposed to be out here, saving lives, fighting fires. That’s my purpose.” He frowns and you hum to show that you’re listening.

“I know they just want me to recover, but…”

“It feels like they’re holding you back?” You finish for him. He chuckles in surprise at the accuracy of what you said and nods.

“I’m probably in no place to tell you this, but trust me, it’s worth it. Get better, do the light work and sooner than you think you’ll be back doing what you love. But if you start now and ignore your health.. it’s going to catch up with you. And it’ll be way worse than a few weeks behind a desk.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding, “You're right. Thank you.” You smile and put a hand on his leg, making sure he doesn’t mind before adding, “I mean look at you, crushed by an entire ladder truck and you’re up and running already.”

“I’m just that great,” he sarcastically pats his own shoulder and you both break into laughter.

-

You don't know if it's been minutes, seconds or hours when you wake up, laying on top of destroyed concession stands and other things. Something is digging into your back, your leg is awkwardly bent and your ears are ringing.

Groaning you sit up, wincing in pain when a sharp pain strikes through your back at the movement.

Around you is just more trash and destroyed cars, you see an arm laying on one of the cars and decide to avert your eyes as quick as possible for your own sake.

Every step hurts but you keep going; walking through the flooded streets with your eyes looking for either of the two boys you’d spent earlier with or other survivors.

The sun is starting to set and you’re starting to get hopeless. You have no clue where you were, completely disoriented as you pass houses that look entirely the same. Your phone is useless and you’re alone. Shouldn’t you have met at least one person by now?

Your back has gone practically numb, same as your leg, when you see faraway lights in the distance. Your steps get quicker as you see people and to your utter relief firefighters. You don’t know if the tears in your eyes are of joy or utter despair from what happened but you couldn’t care less when a man with short, brown hair spots you and approaches.

You’re trying to walk closer when a small voice somewhere close stops you. You’re not sure if it’s your imagination but you turn around, squinting your eyes in the darkness. And then you see it. A small boy, waddling your way with his arms stretched out like he couldn’t see.

Could it be..?

“Christopher?” You see his head perk up and he tries going faster, stumbling over his own feet. Your heart drops in relief and you gather your last strength to run to him, “Hey, you remember me right?” He nods and you note the missing glasses.

“There’s help, come on,” you point out but he doesn’t look happy. He looks almost angry, “Buck.” You had almost forgotten about the charming firefighter. But your priority right now was Christopher.

“We’re gonna find him. Let’s get you help first,” you say with fake enthusiasm in your voice. He doesn’t look okay with that but stays silent and you awkwardly wrap your arms around him after making sure he’s okay and lift him into your arms.

It’s hard to avoid any obstacles while walking but you manage, seeing the brown haired man from a few minutes ago still there.

“Hey! I need help! It’s a kid!” You yell.

He waves you over while walking towards you and as soon as you can actually see him you’re once again surprised. What was it with these firefighters and their good looks? Jesus.

When he’s close enough you nudge Christopher, “There’s help, he’s gonna make sure you’re okay,” you nod at the man and he stands still before running the last feet over to you, basically ripping the child from you.

“Chris!” He cries, clutching the kid with all his might. Oh, this must be his father.

You smile, relieved that they found each other. He looks up at you with gratitude, “Thank you so much. Thank you.” You just smile.

“He’s found us himself. I couldn’t find him after..” you don’t even know what happened- you just know you passed out and woke up alone. Sighing you rub your temples and shake your head.

“You should get checked out, too. You’re barely walking,” the medic (you guess) advises. You take in the people behind him, the full cots and stressed professionals. “I’m okay. There’s people that need more help,” you nod.

He frowns and shakes his head, “I could tell you at least two injuries of yours that need treatment. Come on.” He nods his head in the direction of one of the tents and you chuckle but follow him. At least you try to. Four more steps and your legs give out, you clutch a random person's arm to prevent your fall, mumbling a sorry when they just barely catch you.

The ringing in your ears is back and you groan when you’re laid on one of the cots, your back protesting painfully.

Your vision is blurry and you can’t understand what’s being said - what the hell was happening to you?

-

“Wait, she’s- she was with me and Chris.” Eddie looks up in confusion as he hooks you up to an IV, checking your pupils with a small torch. “What?”

Buck nods, “Yeah, she saved Chris and then me. When the last wave happened she was swept away- we were all swept away.”

Eddies brows furrow and she looks down at you, your hair a damp mess, clothes dirty and bloody. “She saved Chris?” His best friend nods and crouches down next to you - Eddie notes the pained groan he tries to conceal as he does so - extending a hand and awkwardly patting your shoulder.

“Will she be okay?”

Eddie's answer is interrupted when you open your eyes and wince at the lights surrounding the tent.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Buck asks before Eddie can get a word out, and you almost faint again seeing these two fine men looking down at you with concern. Great first impression, you think.

“Feel like I was in a tsunami,” you grunt and both of them laugh a bit. A third voice pops up next to you, “We were in one, silly.” Leaning over your head and looking upside down at you was Christopher, a smile on his face.

You huff a laugh and hum, “You’re right. Smart boy.”

Eddie looks at Buck at the exchange and he just shrugs with a grin. Chris walks to Eddie and leans into his side, eyes still on you.

“Is there something on my face, or..?” You ask half joking as three pairs of eyes stay trained on you.

“Just beauty,” Buck grins and there’s a second of silence before Eddie gags and rolls his eyes, “That’s so creepy, díos.” You laugh as Buck tries defending himself, simply looking just as cute to you as earlier.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An Epic antitrust loss for Google

A jury just found Google guilty on all counts of antitrust violations stemming from its dispute with Epic, maker of Fortnite, which brought a variety of claims related to how Google runs its app marketplace. This is huge:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/11/technology/epic-games-google-antitrust-ruling.html

The mobile app store world is a duopoly run by Google and Apple. Both use a variety of tactics to prevent their customers from installing third party app stores, which funnels all app makers into their own app stores. Those app stores cream an eye-popping 30% off every purchase made in an app.

This is a shocking amount to charge for payment processing. The payments sector is incredibly monopolized and notorious for its price-gouging – and its standard (wildly inflated) rate is 2-5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Now, in theory, Epic doesn't have to sell in Google Play, the official Android app store. Unlike Apple's iOS, Android permit both sideloading (installing an app directly without using an app store) and configuring your device to use a different app store. In practice, Google uses a variety of anticompetitive tricks to prevent these app stores from springing up and to dissuade Android users from sideloading. Proving that Google's actions – like paying Activision $360m as part of "Project Hug" (no, really!) – were intended to prevent new app storesfrom springing up was a big lift for Epic. But they managed it, in large part thanks to Google's own internal communications, wherein executives admitted that this was exactly why Project Hug existed. This is part of a pattern with Big Tech antitrust: many of the charges are theoretically very hard to make stick, but because the companies put their evil plans in writing (think of the fraudulent crypto exchange FTX, whose top execs all conferred in a groupchat called "Wirefraud"), Big Tech keeps losing in court:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Now, I do like to dunk on Big Tech for this kind of thing, because it's objectively funny and because the companies make so many unforced errors. But in an important sense, this kind of written record is impossible to avoid. Any large institution can only make and enact policy through administrative systems, and those systems leave behind a paper-trail: memos, meeting minutes, etc. Yes, we all know that quote from The Wire: "Is you taking notes on a fucking criminal conspiracy?" But inevitably, any ambitious conspiracy can only exist if someone is taking notes.

What's more, any large conspiracy involving lots of parties will inevitably produce leaks. Think of this as the corollary to the idea that the moon landing can't be a hoax, because there's no way 400,000 co-conspirators could keep the secret. Big Tech's conspiracies required hundreds or even thousands of collaborators to keep their mouths shut, and eventually someone blabs:

https://www.science.org/content/article/fake-moon-landing-you-d-need-400000-conspirators

This is part of a wave of antitrust cases being brought against the tech giants. As Matt Stoller writes, the guilty-on-all-counts jury verdict will leak into current and future actions. Remember, Google spent much of this year in court fighting the DoJ, who argued that the company bribed Apple not to make a competing search engine, paying tens of billions every year to keep a competitor from emerging. Now that a jury has convinced Google of doing that to prevent alternative app stores from emerging, claims that it used these pay-for-delay tactics in other sectros get a lot more credible:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/boom-google-loses-antitrust-case

On that note: what about Apple? Epic brought a very similar case against Apple and lost. Both Apple and Epic are appealing that case to the Supreme Court, and now that Google has been convicted in a similar case, it might prompt the Supremes to weigh in and resolve the seeming inconsistencies in the interpretation of federal law.

This is a key moment in the long project to wrest antitrust away from the pro-monopoly side, who spent decades "training" judges to produce verdicts that run counter to the plain language of America's antitrust law:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

There's 40 years' worth of bad precedent to overturn. The good news is that we've got the law on our side. Literally, the wording of the laws and the records of the Congressional debate leading to their passage, all militate towards the (incredibly obvious) conclusion that the purpose of anti-monopoly law is to fight monopoly, not defend it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

It's amazing to realize that we got into this monopoly quagmire because judges just literally refused to enforce the law. That's what makes one part of the jury verdict against Google so exciting: the jury found that Google's insistence that Play Store sellers use its payment processor was an act of illegal tying. Today, "tying" is an obscure legal theory, but few doctrines would be more useful in disenshittifying the internet. A company is guilty of illegal tying when it forces you to use unrelated products or services as a condition of using the product you actually want. The abandonment of tying led to a host of horribles, from printer companies forcing you to buy ink at $10,000/gallon to Livenation forcing venues to sell tickets through its Ticketmaster subsidiary.

The next phase of this comes when the judge decides on the penalty. Epic doesn't want cash damages – it wants the judge to order Google to fulfill its promise of "an open, competitive Android ecosystem for all users and industry participants." They've asked the judge to order Google to facilitate third-party app stores, and to separate app stores from payment processors. As Stoller puts it, they want to "crush Google’s control over Android":

https://www.epicgames.com/site/en-US/news/epic-v-google-trial-verdict-a-win-for-all-developers

Google has sworn to appeal, surprising no one. The Times's expert says that they will have a tough time winning, given how clear the verdict was. Whatever this means for Google and Android, it means a lot for a future free from monopolies.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/12/im-feeling-lucky/#hugger-mugger

[rallamajoop]

Portraits of Miranda's family: Image assets and renders

Have some assets and object renders of all those fancy portraits of Miranda, Donna and Lady D and her daughters! There are also many more portraits of Miranda herself to be found all over the village, of course, but I've posted those before. Not sure exactly why the Dimitrescu portrait is so much lower-res than the others (the actual picture is plenty big in-game), but this is the only version of it I could find in the game files.

The painting of the three daughters is (as you've probably heard before) based on a real painting by George Theodore Berthon called "The Three Robinson Sisters" ‒ and when I say "based on" what I mean of course is "it's the same picture, they've just tweaked the poses and added the Dimitrescu crest and a few extra details." But then, you can do that when a picture is over a hundred years out of copyright.

Whether the portraits of Dimitrescu and Donna were similarly based on specific historical art I do not know, though their faces look far more game-accurate, at least. Meanwhile, the portrait of Miranda so perfectly apes a thousand different madonna-with-baby images that I wouldn't be at all surprised if that slightly-creepy-baby comes direct from some original art piece, but who knows?

On a related note, has anyone else ever noticed the weird gender/class divide in Miranda's family? All five female family members appear in these flattering portraits (all seven if you count Angie and Eva), and Donna lives in a stately home and Dimitrescu in a castle, both attended by staff and servants. Heisenberg and Moreau, meanwhile, live in an old, run-down factory and a lake. The men do get their photos displayed in the church with everyone else's, of course, but that's hardly comparable to an actual painting.

There's arguably something of a technology divide too: though everything in the village seems old, Heisenberg's factory and the reservoir control mechanisms at least mark those areas as post-industrial revolution, and both feature major puzzles to get power generators running. But very little in Donna or Dimitrescu's domains would seem out of place in pre-Victorian times.

I don't think there's much meaning to be read into the gender divide (except inasmuch as you know Heisenberg plays up his filthy, lower-class persona just to get under Dimitrescu's skin) and I doubt it was even intentional. There's not much to suggest Miranda actively favours her 'daughters' over her 'sons', given Heisenberg's favoured treatment at Ethan's trial, and you definitely don't see the same kind of split in the Baker family of RE7, which gave us the gloriously revolting Marguerite. But as soon as you start digging into these characters, it's hard not to notice it all the same.

[sweetblossomsss]

Into you || Jeong Yunho

Synopsis: Your husband, who was a deceitful piece of shit, unfortunately is someone who is high of status which means danger comes easily. But when Yunho was hired as your bodyguard, you felt something inside of you change. You were fighting with fire trying to explore what this relationship with Yunho could be.

WARNINGS: nsfw, swearing, reader’s husband gets physical by grabbing her face, drinking, crying, yelling, angst, happy ending, unprotected sex, smut, The character Jae is based on no one, just picked that name, toxic relationship with husband, divorce, throwing a object, tbh I’m sure I’m missing some just lmk.

Word Count: 40K. (If I remember correctly)

Blossom’s Notes: Hello my petals! I definitely had a blast writing this story. As I was watching Ariana Grande’s Into You music video it inspired me to write something similar to it. This is a long one so cozy up, grab a drink and popcorn and enjoy your read. Let’s get into it.

Started: May 29, 2024. Finished: July 28, 2024.

“And I just want to say, thank you to my beautiful wife.” Your husband, Jae, says as he smiles at you. The light shining on you, giving you a spot light. You smile back. “Without you, I don’t know where I would be right now. I love you so much.” He says as he sniffs those crocodile tears up.

You’ve gotten use to his bullshit and lies. The whole banquets clapped for your husband as he smiled for the cameras holding up his plaque. He’s a renowned technology entrepreneur, who is known for his innovative software solutions. His company, a major tech company, is getting recognized for its ground breaking achievements tonight.

He walks down the stage, shaking people’s hands, thanking them as he walks to you. He gives you a kiss on the lips, hugging you. “Show some more affection, would you?” He whispers in your ear, making it seem like he whispered sweet nothings to you. You smiled, as you held his cheek, trying to make it a sweet moment for the cameras.

How badly you wanted to slap him and clean the floor with his ass. You two sat down, thanking the people in your table for their compliments. You couldn’t wait to get home, get out this tight dress, and take the night off with a nice hot bath and alcohol.

“So Y/N,” An older woman says, catching your attention, “You must be very proud of your husband.” She smiles at you two as you reached over and placed your hand over Jae’s, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Words truly can’t describe how proud I am of him. He deserves it all.” You said smiling at him. Ugh, please.

Jae cleared this throat. “I’m truly a lucky man. I meant what I said when I said I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for her. She’s been my everything through all the hardships.” The way he looks at you and speaks which such love about you tugs a bit on your heart strings.

You won’t lie, this has been rough. Even then that’s an understatement. You both started this journey with not even able to afford a bed frame. Jae was putting hours in and out for his company, busting his ass to get to where he’s at now. It is true that you kept him sane and composed throughout it all. He leaned on you every time he let his frustration consume him and wanted to throw everything away.

Sometimes you fantasize about the what if. What if you did let him give up? Maybe all the money, glory, and fame wouldn’t get to his head. Something within him switched and you could never figure out why or when it did. If you’re wondering why you stay, well, truthfully speaking even you don’t know yourself. Maybe a part of you is holding on to the what use to be. Hoping Jae goes back to how he was.

“It’s beautiful to see a relationship like this.” The woman said. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin after she had a sip of her champagne, “Pardon if this is wrong of me to ask,” You felt the mood change within the table. “But I saw those threats online. How are you both feeling?”

Oh my mistake, did I forget to mention that you have been receiving threats? Due to your relationship with Jae, you have become a target for people who are against Jae’s business, along with some fans of Jae who aren’t too fond that your his wife. But what has your loving husband done with this information every time you bring it up? Nothing.

The other people in the table agreed talking amongst themselves whispering how they were terrified for you or were worried something bad would happen. “Oh, trust me, we aren’t taking the threats lightly,” Jae said, reassuring the people at the table.

You could’ve sworn you hurt your neck from how fast you snapped to his direction wondering who the fuck is “we” and why “we” all of sudden started caring. “We are currently trying to find the culprits as well as hiring a bodyguard for Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped. You were in shock. For MONTHS you’ve been begging and pleading for some form of protection but he always dismissed your feelings. Guess when other people speak he will do anything to save face his reputation.

He gives you a small face signaling to fix yours. “Oh-Oh, I’m just so shocked,” you said as you put a hand on your chest, “I- um- I didn’t know he was getting me a bodyguard.” You fumbled with your words, giving a small smile to the people at the table to save your reaction.

“Oh, what a good man you have,” the woman said. She grabs her champagne raising it in front of her. “A toast,” she says as everyone, including you two, raise your glass. “To the newly renowned entrepreneur.” Clinking with Jae before you downed that drink knowing you’re in for a long night. You can’t wait to get home.

_______

Finally you two arrived home, no one saying a word to one another. Jae loosening up his tie and taking his jacket off as he walks to the bar. You closed the door, walking to lean on the wall as you take off your heels. You carried them in your hands as you headed up the stairs.

“It would be nice if my wife would give a fuck about my award.” He spat in venom as he poured himself a drink, watching your figure go up the stairs.

You stopped half way on the stairs, making a creaking sound on the wood as you turned around. “Are you serious?” You scoffed. “Your wife is exhausted of playing pretend tonight, husband. I’m going to bed.” You turn around, wanting to just get comfortable and out of his presence.

He slams the cup down, liquor spilling out. You roll your eyes. Oh, here we go again. “Pretend? Are you fucking kidding me? After all I fucking do for you? For us? You’re gonna treat to me like this?” He yells as he spreads his arms out in front of him, leaning on the counter top, glaring at you.

You let out a laugh, slowly going down the stairs, staring at him with a smirk. “For us?” You asked tilting your head to the side in amusement, dropping your heels. “No, Jae, just for you. You’re just a self absorbed arrogant piece of shit.”

That set him off because he was coming in heavy steps, flaring his nostrils, eyes full of anger as he walked up to you grabbing your face. You yelped in shock, digging your nails into his wrist. “You don’t get to speak to me like that.” He spat at you, tightening the grip.

“Admit it. You don’t give a fuck about me. All you care about is your status and how you look on the outside to others.” You said breathing heavy as you try clawing his arm away from you.

“That’s not true. You know I care for you.” He said. His actions obviously say otherwise. You finally shoved him off of you. He stumbled a bit trying to find his balance. There was a moment of silence looking at each other before you spoke.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Why does it take for other people to speak up about what’s happening to me in order for you to do something? You listen to them instead of me?” You felt tears dwelling up as you fumbled taking off your engagement ring and throwing it at him. “Your wife?”

The ring hit him on the chest, bouncing at bit as it made impact with the floor, not that he cares about it either way. “You know that I was caught up with work, business meetings-“

“Everything but me. You just needed to hear other people talking about the threats to validate my feelings, huh?” You cut him off with tears streaming down your face. You were just fed up with all his excuses.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I was making sure that you weren’t just you being paranoid!” He yells.

You scoffed in disbelief, is he serious right now? “Paranoid? You think I’m being paranoid? You think it’s great living in fear?” You asked him, watching him walk to the bar.

He pours another drink, giving his back to you. “We are doing it now so what’s the matter.” He says nonchalantly.

You sniffed as you wiped the fallen tears. “What matters is that my own husband who vowed to love and protect me doesn’t do anything of the sort.” You said as you shook your head in disappointment and anger. Seeing that he just gave up on this conversation, you just left and went upstairs.

Jae isn’t even phased one bit. He doesn’t bother looking back at you as you leave, not even feeling a tad bit remorse. He just leans his body over the counter, entertaining himself with the cup moving the liquor around, hearing the ice cubes clank against the glass.

He then suddenly feels a vibration in his pocket. He takes his phone out to see someone texted him what he was doing tonight. He chugs the rest of the drink, grabbing his car keys and slamming the door shut as he heads out.

As you’re getting undressed in the bathroom, you turned your head to the sound of the door closing. You sniffed as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. You’re not stupid, you know he’s probably off to go party and screw some woman. Not the first nor the last.

You watched as the hot steam fogged up the room. Turning to the mirror, you wiped it as you stared at yourself. This isn’t you. You deserve better. You touched your face as you see the tiredness in your eyes, stress written all over your face. Soon the mirror would be fogging again causing you to look at your reflection fading.

You walked to the tub sighing in delight, feeling the slight burning sensation of the water relaxing your muscles as you stepped in. You slowly got in, letting your body adjust to the temperature. You leaned your back on the tub, closing your eyes letting the bullshit of night get out of your system into a peace of mind.

________

A few days have passed and tension still lingers between you and Jae. But here you are, standing in his spacious, sleek office, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city getting ready to meet this so called bodyguard Jae has hired.

When he told you he had found someone, you felt the weight of the world come off your chest. Finally, you get to breathe and not have to constantly be looking over your shoulder anymore. The sounds of Jae’s rhythmic typing filled your ears as you stared at your wedding ring, wearing it just for display for photos. You sighed as your attention turned to the view before you.

Suddenly a knock on the door caught your thoughts as you turned around to see who it was. “Come in.” Jae said not even bothering to look up. “Sir,” the receptionist said as she peaked in, “Mr. Jeong has arrived.” Jae looked up at her pausing mid-type, nodding his head as he stood up. “Bring him in.”

You walked and stood next to Jae as he is straightening his clothes, buttoning up his suit, preparing to meet him. “Let me do the talking,” he says, adjusting his tie. “Maybe now I won’t have to worrying about your safety every second.”

“Since when have you ever been worried about my safety to begin with?” You shot back at him with anger in your eyes.

Right when he was about to say something the door opens. Everything went silent when this tall man walked in. You were momentarily stunned at how handsome he was. He was just oozing with quiet confidence in every step as he approached you both. “Good evening, I’m Jeong Yunho.” He greets himself, deep voice ringing in your ears. Wow.

Yunho extends his hand out to Jae and he returns it with a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jae and this,” he wraps his arm around you, “is my wife, Y/N.” He smiles at Yunho.

The urge of breaking his arm off of you is hard to fight but you push through it. “It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Jeong. Thank you so much for coming in today.” Although you feel irritated towards Jae, you gave a genuine smile to Yunho.

He extends his arm out to you. “Please, the pleasure is all mine. And please call me Yunho.” He gave you a small smile as he shook your hand. Wow, he is very handsome. Not just that, but the energy he was radiating when he walked captivated you in some sense.

Jae clears his throat putting his hands in his pockets, noticing your longing stare. “Yunho comes highly recommended. He will make sure you’re safe now.” He said in a serious tone.

“Im sure I will be.” Your tone coming off a little sarcastic as you smiled at Jae causing him to force a smile as his eyes sent daggers to you. “It really means a lot that you’re here Yunho.” You turned your attention back to him.

He nodded, giving a small smile. “Of course. It’s my job. We’ll go over your daily routine and set up a security plan tailored to whatever you need.” He said putting his hands behind his back as he spoke.

“Just make sure she’s protected.” Jae said with slight attitude towards Yunho. You gave him a look that said shut-up. “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing Jae.” You spat back at him.

Yunho sensed the tension between the two of you. He was eying your body language. Keeping a keen eye at the way Jae held your arm and you trying to remove it from his grip as he harshly whispers something into your ear causing your expression to turn angry.

“It’s alright. I understand where he’s coming from,” Yunho said calmly, trying to ease the tension. “My only goal is to protect you without intruding on your personal space. Whatever you need, just let me know.”

You nodded at Yunho’s words. “Well, if you excuse me,” Jae said as he looked at his watch, completely ignoring what Yunho said. “I have a meeting to get to. Make sure she gets home safe.” Jae said as left the room, but not before looking Yunho and up and down as if he’s a threat.

Once you hear the door close, you let out a sigh trying to release the frustration within you. “Yunho, I’m so sorry about Jae. He’s just very… difficult.” You apologized.

Yunho shook his head, giving you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. My focus is on you, not him.” He told you. Oh, what was that? Did my heart skip a beat?

You feel a rush of warmth covering your heart with his words, feeling your heart do a leap. It was the way his words spewed sincerity with his intense gaze throwing you off guard. It felt like it stirred up something in you and it was just the first time meeting him.

But besides that, you kind of felt overwhelmed, but in a good way. Feeling some tears creeping in, you sniffed a bit, “Sorry, it’s just- It’s been a long time coming. Ive been waiting for this for a while. You have no idea how clear I can breathe now.”

Yunho looks at you with compassion, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I promise I’m going to be here for you at every step.” He reassures you as he pulls out a handkerchief for you to dry up your tears. You thanked him as you grabbed it from him, patting your face dry.

“Why don’t we go over your daily routine? The more I know, the better I can protect you.” He said smiling slightly at you, trying to take your mind off of the overwhelming thoughts. You let out a soft okay as you two sat down at the sofa.

You two spent an about an hour or two going over the entire outline of your routine. The places where you like to eat, favorite places to shop, like to hang out, just the usual places. He listens intently as he takes notes, asking questions to clarify some details, nodding his head as you kept talking. “And, well, that’s pretty much it,” you chuckled nervously, “sorry it’s that’s a lot of information.”

He shakes his head, “Not at all. It helps me to know as much as I can to ensure your safety.” He closes his notebook tucking it inside his suit pocket, standing up. “Well then, let’s get you home, yeah?” He asks as he extends a hand out to help you stand from the sofa.

You take his hand as you stand up looking at him. “Yeah, let’s go.” And with that you lead the way out the office and out the building. Because of the news of Jae winning an award, paparazzi were outside his building wanting to take photos and ask questions. And of course he would eat up all that attention.

As soon as you stepped outside, you were bombarded with questions, crowd closing up on you. You covered your face with your hand as flashing lights from the cameras were blinding you from seeing where you were going. Yunho had brought you closer to his chest, shoving people out the way, yelling at them to move.

He held a finger to his ear piece. “Prepare the car.” He said as he held you tightly. When the crowd opens up a way to the car, you see more security guards creating a barricade for you to get in the car. Yunho opens the door for you and helps you inside closing the door quickly.

He rushes to the other side of the car and gets inside. “Let’s go.” He tells the driver as he taps the driver seat. The driver books it out of there as you stared out the window, watching as you get further and further away from the paparazzi. You leaned your head back and close your eyes, feeling at ease. Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

_______

To say you were happy beyond words is an understatement. Yunho has been there at your beckoning call, very attentive when people are in your surroundings, he can read you like an open book at this point. It felt good getting some normalcy back. However one thing is still unresolved, your marriage.

Yunho has definitely seen the bad and the ugly when it comes to you two. The screaming matches, the silence between one another, you name it he saw it. You felt so ashamed and embarrassed to be doing all that in front of Yunho, but he always reassured you that it was okay and that he was here for you.

And tonight just so happens to be one of those nights. Tonight is an important conference for Jae and as always, he’s on edge. He had a drink in his hand, tapping his foot impatiently as he looked at his watch.

“Y/N, we have to go. Come on!” You heard Jae yelling from downstairs. You roll your eyes, applying the final touches to your makeup. You stepped back, admiring yourself as you spritz yourself with perfume.

You set it down and ran your hands down your dress, turning a bit to the side to see how you looked from behind. You smirked at yourself, Damn I look good.

You took a deep breath and let it out as you started walking down the stairs. The creaking of the stairs caused Jae and Yunho to look at your direction causing them to freeze up at your presence. You just looked so breathtaking. Yunho eyes never once left you as he walked towards you to help you down the last couple of steps.

“You look beautiful, Ms. Y/N.” Yunho complimented as you stepped in front of him, turning so he can help you with your silk shawl. You gave him a small thank you, adjusting your shawl around you.

Jae looked at you up and down before finishing his drink. “Let’s go.” He said, placing his cup down as he walked to the door. “We are going to be late.”

____

Arriving to the conference, as soon as you stepped in servers with drinks on a silver tray offered you champagne. You happily took one while Jae went off on his own to the bar to get something else to drink. Yunho just declined by raising his hand and followed you to the reserved table.

Once you spotted your name, he helped remove your shawl. The mixture of his slight touch mixed with the fresh cool air hitting your exposed skin gave a chill down your spine. He took out the chair for you,“If you need me, I’ll be right over there, okay?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear as he pushed the chair in for you.

The hot breath you felt in your ear gave you goosebumps all over, making the little hairs stand at your neck. “Okay.” You said softly as you nodded at him, clearing your throat. Feel like a little hot all of a sudden.

You watched him walk away as you bite your lower lip. Why am I feeling like this? But soon the devil himself would take you out of your thoughts as he got into your view taking a seat next to you. “Remember, act happy and don’t look so miserable.” Jae reminded you for the 20th time that night.

“Oh, sweetie, how can I when I’m with you?” You gave him a fake smile to which he returned one to you. When people started arriving at your table, his focus immediately shifted to them. You gave a small talk and smiles as the night when on.

As Jae was chatting up amongst the people at the table, you sighed in boredom. You grabbed your champagne taking small sips, your eyes roaming around the room. But you know who you were looking for. Your heart stopped when you saw those eyes were already looking at you.

It just felt like it was just you and him in this large crowded room. The dimmed light casting a mysterious look on him. You felt yourself getting lost looking at him. You can hear your heart beating with curiosity and excitement. Something in the way he looks at you makes you feel giddy inside.

He raised his eyebrow, almost asking if anything was wrong. You saw how was getting ready to walk but you smiled and shook your head. You placed the champagne down, turning your attention back to the table getting ready to play husband and wife when you heard Jae call for your attention.

______

Time has passed but the function is still going on. Jae and you stand amongst fellow CEOs, talking about their respective companies as Jae has a possessive grip around your waist. You try your best to hide your discomfort as you try to keep up with the conversation.

“So gentleman, as you can see,” Jae says as he takes a sip of his drink. “NexTech has been known for its unprecedented growth. Plus with our innovative strategies and unmatched resources, we will be dominating like no one has before.”

“Very impressive, Jae. The vision for your company is quite ambitious.” A CEO nods in approval. Jae chuckles as he grips you tighter. You slightly wince at the touch, knowing he’s getting drunk and can’t control himself.

“But of course it is. After all, I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” He said in an arrogant tone, chuckling.

You tried shifting away from him, but it was no use. He had a death grip on you. “Yes, Jae has always been ambitious.” You forced a laugh. You gave Jae a pointed look, signaling for him to loosen up the pressure.

But of course, he ignores you. All his attention is on the CEOs in-front of him. “Oh and who’s the lovely lady? Is she your assistant?” Someone asks, eyeing you with curiosity. Really man? You fought the urge to not roll your eyes.

“Oh no, she’s way more than that,” Jae chuckles, “This is my partner, Y/N, in every sense of the word. Although, between us, she’s not much help when it comes to the business side. Just a pretty face to show around.”

You look at him with widen eyes, feeling shock and humiliation. You can sense the mixture of pity and amusement from the CEOs as they look at you. In that moment you felt so small. You cleared your throat, “Excuse me.” You said as you removed yourself from his grasp, quickly walking away from them.

“Women, right? Can’t take a joke.” Jae sarcastically says as he takes a sip causing a laughter amongst the group.

______

Shoving the door of the banquet open, the loud noise of the chatter and music from the room fades away as the door closes behind you. Your heels echoed in the hallway as you desperately tried to find some sort of exit, feeling suffocated and humiliated.

After turning down some halls, you came across this French door that upon opening revealed to be a beautiful roof top garden. You sniffed as you sat down on the stone bench that was there, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed.

You shouldn’t be shocked at this point, you know that. But you just can’t help how you feel. Why must he be such an asshole. You sat there replaying the moment in your head. “I feel so stupid..” you said as you leaned your face into your hands as you cried.

Meanwhile back in the banquet, Yunho whose eyes never left your sight, saw you running away. He exchanged a look with Jae that was full of disappointment but quite frankly Jae could give a fuck about it. Yunho just knows that Jae did something to fuck this up.

As Yunho stepped out of the room, he looked all over for you. He was jogging down the hall but stopped in his steps once he saw that some doors were open and as he got closer he heard someone crying. When he stepped out, he saw you in your broken state.

As he approached you, the gravel under his feet made some noise but you were too caught up in your emotions that you didn’t hear foot steps approaching you. “Y/N?” He crouched down in front of you.

You jumped a bit not expecting to see anyone. “Oh my- Yunho, I’m so sorry,” you sniffed, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “I just- I- I’m sorry.” You sighed in defeat. “I don’t mean for you to see me in such state.” You said you turned to the side trying to compose yourself.

He doesn’t say anything as he stands up and takes his jacket off and he wraps it around you. You look up at him with puffy eyes and watched as he turns to the side and plucks a beautiful bloomed rose. “Here’s a flower for the woman whose beauty outshines any garden there is in life.” He says as he sits down next to you, tucking it gently in your hair.

You let out a small chuckle, touching the flower in your hair, “Thank you Yunho, that’s very sweet of you.” You say slightly nasally from the crying as you looked down. Feeling shy and embarrassed because you’re sure you look like a hot mess with your makeup all messed up.

“I mean it.” He says softly. He takes a minute then sighs. “May I ask a personal question? And apologies in advance if I have overstepped.” He asks you as he stares at your sadden state. You nodded, not even looking at him. “Why do you stay with a man who treats you like this?”

You take a deep breath, looking at him. “It’s complicated… We have been together for so long.” You sniffed, your voice was barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t always like this. He use to be so different.”

“But now?” Yunho asks as he listened intently, his expression softened at the sight of you.

“But now… I don’t know,” you looked down as you gripped Yunho’s jacket around you. “I think part of me stays because I hope he returns to being the guy he used to be to. Plus there’s so many other factors to it. Leaving isn’t as simple as it sounds.”

Yunho nodded in understanding. “While I do understand you, I just think you deserve someone who will treat you like the woman you are. It’s not worth crying over him.” He said turning your head to face him as he wipes your tears. The words he spoke ached your heart because it was the truth.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself, huh?” You chuckled at him causing him to laugh as well. His laugh was like music to your ears. He barely showed any emotions but when he did, it was a sight to see.

“Just doing my job,” he smiles. “But in all seriousness, you’re stronger than you think you are.” He says standing up, having the moonlight shine on his figure giving him that mysterious look from earlier.

You stood up as well, “Thank you for your kind words Yunho.” You said looking up at him. Suddenly the wind picked up a bit, causing you shiver. “Let’s go home, I’m sure his drunken self won’t even notice I’m gone.”

He nodded as he held his arm out for you to grab. You happily took it, feeling a bit tipsy from all the champagne you drank. Plus the crying didn’t help much. And with that you two left the building and headed home.

_____

You leaned your head against the window, watching the city lights has Yunho drove you both home. The drive was nice and quiet. You had told Yunho to take a different route because you honestly just didn’t want to go home.

But good things come to an end and here you are pulling into your driveway. You sat up in a surprise, feeling your heart quicken when you saw that Jae was home. “He’s home.” You muttered.

Yunho gave you a concerned look, “You want me to stay?” He asked seeing a bit of fear coming into your expression.

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll handle it first, if anything happens I’ll call you.” When Jae had too much to drink, he was just so unbearable. You just know he was angry with you leaving so this combination of anger and liquor forms a knot in your stomach. But you were a strong woman who takes shit from no one.

You entered the house as saw no other than Jae sitting on the sofa, with a drink in his hand glaring at you. “Where the hell were you?” He slurred as he took a sip.

Yunho helped take off his jacket you still had on. “Yunho please give my husband and I a moment to talk.” You sarcastically said as Yunho nodded and left the room. You stood there arms crossed staring at him.

“Im going to ask you once more,” Jae said placing his drink down and walking to you. “Where the fuck were you?” He demanded.

You scoffed, your eyes turning icy, “Why? Afraid you couldn’t play pretend husband and wife? Afraid you couldn’t embarrass me to make yourself feel good about yourself?”

“Oh please,” Jae spat. “Again you go making it about your damn self. You embarrassed me with your dramatic walk out. Everyone asking what happened or where you went. You know tonight was important for me but no, you had to act like a damn bitch.” He yelled as he got way too close to comfort but you didn’t back down.

You pursed your lips, “You humiliated me Jae. Degrading me and saying I have done anything for this company when you know that’s completely bullshit. I’m fucking sick of you!” You yelled at him.

He let his anger take over as he grabs your neck and the his hand on your arm. “You don’t get to speak to me like that. You think you’re so much better than me? You wouldn’t last a day in my world.” He tighten the grip on both hands.

You were struggling to breathe as you dug your nails into his arm. “I know enough to understand that I deserve better than you.”

He laughed. “You need me. You never find anyone else. No one will ever want you, Y/N.” He spat with venom.

“Jae,” you said trying to remove his hand. “Jae you’re hurting me. Let go of me!” You yelled out in desperation.

He titled his head in fake sympathy, “Oh, why? You’re afraid? Scared even?” He taunted you.

It all happened so fast. Suddenly you felt like you can breathe again. You hunched over, hand on your neck as you coughed trying to regain your consciousness. When you looked up, you saw Yunho with his hand around Jae’s neck. His eyes were filled with rage, as if he has had enough of Jae’s bullshit.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Yunho’s deep voice rang in the room. Jae was getting a taste of his own medicine as Yunho tightened the grip. “What a sad excuse of a man you are to be laying your hands on a woman.” He spat at him.

Jae stumbled trying to gain his balance as he tried his best to remove Yunho’s grip. “Stay the fuck out this,” he struggled to protest. “This is between my wife and I.”

Yunho towered over him, getting up close to his face. “Not when you’re hurting her.” He said watching Jae’s face turn red as he shoved him to a wall nearby.

“Let go of me!” He yelled at him. Yunho let him go, still standing close watching him fall to the floor, breathing heavy. Jae looks up at anger getting up to shove Yunho, “You think I’m fucking scared of you?!” He yells at him, chest heaving heavily.

“Touch her again and I’ll make you regret it.” Yunho said glaring into Jae’s eyes. Jae will never admit it, but deep down, he was scared of Yunho. He fucked around and found out right quick.

You grabbed Yunho’s arm. “Yunho, it’s okay.” You say weakly, still feeling the pain in your throat. But he didn’t budge at all eyes remaining on Jae. Jae just laughed bitterly, “Yeah, Yunho it’s okay,” he mocked you. “You better watch yourself, bodyguard.”

“Is that a threat?” Yunho asked, his voice was low and menacing getting closer to Jae who walked back causing him to bump into the wall.

Jae tsked and glared at Yunho. “Move,” he shoved Yunho as he walked to the stairs. “This isn’t over Y/N.” Throwing one last spiteful comment before heading up the stairs.

Watching his go up the stairs as you felt tears coming in. When you heard the door close you closed your eyes letting the tears stream down. Yunho put his finger under your chin gently tilting your head up examining your neck. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“That piece of shit.” You whispered as you felt on the verge of sobbing. “I’m so sorry Yunho.” You said, you looked down at the ground. You couldn’t help but feel remorse. Maybe you shouldn’t never brought up security, you could’ve saved Yunho his time.

Yunho cups your face, lifting your face to look at him. “Stop saying sorry.” He said firmly but kindly. “I’m here to protect you. No matter what.” You nodded as you sniffed, “Thank you Yunho.”

Jae never once laid a hand on you. But once the drinking and high status got into his head, there was no telling what he was capable of. He had gotten handsy with you, but you were always quick to fight back. You never thought you would need protection from your own husband.

“Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” He said giving you eyes of compassion. You couldn’t help but to hug him. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how else this night would’ve turned out. Yunho took a moment but eventually wrapped his arms around you, figuring that you needed someone to lean on right now.

____

The conference was a blessing in disguise because Jae had gotten the approval to open another location in a different state which means he will out of town for a while. Good riddance, you thought. Prior to leaving he was busy with meetings for the preparation of the new building, rarely seeing him after the dispute.

When you walked into the kitchen you saw a huge bouquet of flowers in the island. Grabbing the little note on the flowers, ‘I’m sorry for everything. Love, Jae.’ Feeling anger seeping in, you ripped the card to pieces throwing his half ass apology away. Staring at the flowers, you decided to keep them. Why should nature be thrown away when it wasn’t even its fault, it was his.

Now that Jae is gone, the sun is shining brighter, your smile lasts a little longer, the air feels clearer. It’s a good time to be alive. During this time you have been able to do the activities you enjoy in peace. Which naturally has gotten you and Yunho a bit closer.

One activity was shopping. When you walked into the store, your eyes sparkled with excitement as you saw the variety of clothes that was before you. Yunho, who had a serious expression the whole time, followed you around with a mountain of clothes that just kept piling up as you saw something that you wanted to try on.

When it came time to trying the clothes on, you would ask for his opinion and you can tell he was taking it serious and you couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. You stepped out the dressing room, seeing Yunho who was sitting on the sofa, legs spread open with his arms crossed waiting for you, looking to the side waiting for you.

Oh shit. He looked absolutely fine. Shaking your head, getting out of your thoughts you cleared your throat. “What do you think about this one Yunho?” You asked as you did dramatic modeling poses laughing a bit, doing a little twirl to look at the dress fully.

He sits up straight, his arm propped on his leg as he leans his chin on his head, eyebrows furrowed. Oh, he’s really thinking about it. “It’s not giving.” He said serious.

You stopped looking at yourself in the mirror and turned to face him with a playful look on your face, “It’s not what?” You asked, on the verge of laughing.

“It’s not giving…” he pauses, struggling to find a word to describe what he means. “I don’t think this on brings you out well. I think you should try on another dress.” He said as he turns to pick out a different dress handing it to you.

When he notices you staring at him with a smile on your face he shrugs. “What is it? What?”

You laugh as you grabbed the dress and headed to the dressing room. “I didn’t think you were a fashionista.” You smiled at him before closing the curtain. Little did you know, he smiled in secret enjoying this time with you. So this is how it is when you’re happy.

Another activity was when you went to the grocery store and just arm swiped a whole shelf of cookies into the cart Yunho was pushing. “Oh, the ice cream!” You said as you went to the frozen aisle. Yunho sighed as you went back forgetting something yet again. You wanted to pig out as you watched cringey cheesy movies which was right up your alley, Yunho not so much.

“Oh my god, why would she do that!” You yelled at the TV as you covered your face feeling second hand embarrassment from the actress in the movie. You sighed grabbing a spoon full of ice cream and eating it, “She messed up.”

“Yeah she did.” Yunho said flatly dreading that he agreed to watch these movies with you as he had his arms crossed. But you didn’t care as you tapped his arm pointing to the cookies near him, your eyes never leaving tv. “Pass the cookies please.” He sighed as he grabbed and passed them to you.

But honestly, although the hates the movies you have been binge watching, he stares at you in admiration as you are fully invested in the films. You’re too blinded by the films to feel his stares as he smiles at you slapping your forehead in defeat.

To also having him help you in working out which you were dreading now. He had suggested for you two have a nice morning run. But damn, you were huffing and puffing as your arms were leaning on your thighs trying to catch your breath. You hated yourself for agreeing to this.

He saw you falling behind and jogged back to you, “Come on. Don’t you want to burn off those cookies and ice cream?” He asked you jogging in place to keep his body warm.

“Shut the fuck up.” You said through your heavy breathing causing him to laugh at you. “I hate you.” You said getting back up and jogging ahead of him. He followed suit giving you words of motivation which caused you to grunt in annoyance. “I’ll throw up on you!”

To having Yunho stay at nights since you’re alone now, worried if anything happens to you in the middle of the night. As he walks past the living room, he sees that you fell asleep on the sofa. He smirks as he quietly walks to you, covering you with the blanket, tucking some hair behind your ear getting it out your face. He stops and stares at you for a bit, taking in how much you look in peace, something he was grateful for. He leaves, dimming the lights a bit and looking at you before leaving to another room.

_______

Time has passed and one thing stands out. These feelings for Yunho have grown no matter how much you try to push it back and deny it. You just tell yourself that this is just his job, you’re confusing his actions and your feelings.

You two are sitting on the sofa talking and laughing about random stuff. The way the afternoon sunlight hits Yunho’s face has you mesmerized, highlighting his features. The way the sun shines in his eyes as he looked at you got you in a trance. After the laugher subsided, he noticed that you went quiet. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Mm? Oh it’s nothing. Nothing.” You chuckled nervously. Damn, was it that obvious you went deep in thought?

But his gaze remained at yours as he asked again, not letting you dismiss your feelings quickly. “You know you can tell me anything right? You can tell me what’s on your mind.” He says.

You gave him a weak smile, “I don’t know if I can.” Your emotions sit heavy in your heart. You don’t think you can keep bottling up these feelings for him.

“Why can’t you?” He asks you. “It won’t change my judgement on you. You know you can talk to me.”

“You don’t know that.” You said, feeling a bit worried. “I don’t want to risk what we have.” You looked down, playing with a loose thread on your jacket.

“Why would you even think that?” He says softly as he gets a bit closer to you, wanting to get a better view of you.

You felt your heart pounding up to your ears. Feeling your palms sweaty. “I, um,” you started off, still looking down. You took in a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. “I’m in love with you…“ your voice trembling with vulnerability.

There was silence as you two stared at one another. Your heart was sinking, feeling regret settling in. You removed the blanket off you and stood up, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You should’ve just stayed silent.

“Y/N, wait,” Yunho said in a low and urgent voice as he stood up and grabbed your arm. He turned you to face him and saw unshed tears in your eyes. He cupped your face and leaned his forehead onto yours.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he too can’t control his urges anymore. Without another word he leaned in and kissed you passionately. You held onto his wrists as you returned the kiss back. My god, you felt like time had stopped. You couldn’t believe this.

He breaks the kiss, panting a bit to catch his breath. “Y/N,” he says as he wiped your tears. “I love you too. So, so much. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long.” He said in between pants, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah?” You whispered in shock. He kisses your hands as he nodded. “Yeah.”

It’s as if time had froze around you two, when you gently shoved Yunho to sit back down on the sofa. His eyes looking up at you with desire as you stand in front of him. “Come here.” He said to you, tapping his thigh, leaning back.

As soon as you straddled him, Yunho’s hands went behind your back, pulling you closer to him until there was no space between you. This kiss soon went from passion to hunger, wanting to express a different way to show how you feel for one another.

Yunho grabbed handful of your hair, tugging your head back as he peppered kiss down your neck, sucking on your skin leaving hickeys. You moaned in delight as you bit your bottom lip, enjoying this sensation.

And before you know it, you two are skin to skin, feeling the hot sweaty sticky bodies colliding perfectly. Electricity coursing through you body with every touch Yunho gives you. The way shivers went down your spine as he stretched you out when you first sat on him, letting you give him a high pitched moan.

The way your bodies melted into one another ignited a fire. The mixture of moans was melody to your ears. His hands were on your ass, helping you to quicken the pace of your hips, “Oh, oh Yunho,” you furrowed your eyebrows and threw your head back in pleasure, hands on his shoulders for support. “Fuckkk, you feel s-so good.”

Yunho stands up, carrying you as he’s still inside you to flip positions. He lays you down on your back and caresses your legs that are wrapped around him. “Fuck, keep doing that baby.” He grunts as he feels you clenching around him. He moves his hands between your chest and up to your neck, “Can I?” He asks for permission. “Yes, please.” you moaned as you arched your back throwing your head back.

He gave your throat a nice squeeze as he started pounding into you causing you to do some deep breathing techniques, because this man was spreading you out like never before. You threw your hands back, gripping the arm chair for dear life. “You like that baby? Who’s making you feel like this?” He asks you. Fuck, that was hot.

He lifts your legs up to get a deep angle, “Answer me.” He demands as he goes faster. You tried gripping the sides of the sofa or just something to hold on to, “Y-Yes, Yunho, you a-are.” You moaned loudly. He was taking you cloud 9, making you see stars, the whole nine yards.

He flips you around on to all fours. You leaned on the arm rest with your arms supporting you as Yunho grabbed your hair back making your arch your back. He wasted no time going back in, his free hand rubbing your clit, giving you the friction you needed to cum.

“You want to cum on my dick, baby?” He asked you lowly in your ear. You nodded frantically, “Yes please, please.” You begged as he bit your ear. He let go of your hair and flips you for the last time. He wants to see your face when you release on him.

“Cum for me then.” He says as he moves at a rapid speed. You bit your lip in the overwhelming pleasure you’re feeling. He had leaned down and sucked on your nipple, but looked up when he heard your muffled moans, “Scream for me, don’t be quiet.”

You gripped onto his arms, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to your release. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Yunho I’m gonna cum.” You yelled out, breathing heavy. He lets go of your nipple and hovers over you, “Do it baby, cum on my cock, cum.”

Just like that the knot was undone. He kissed you as you moaned into his mouth. You felt like you had traveled to another universe from how good that orgasm was. A few seconds later Yunho was right behind you, cumming inside of you. He rode out both of your highs and then laid on top of you.

Feeling each other fasten heart beats as you both catch your breath. He looks up at you and smiles to which your return as you ran your hand through his sweaty hair, “I love you.” He said, closing his eyes enjoying your sweet touch.

“I love you too.” You said as you just laid there for a moment, taking it what just happened. Internally you were doing cartwheels and backflips. You were happy knowing he felt the same way you did.

______

All good things must come to a because Jae has returned, along with his bullshit. What was once peace is now back to being a war zone of arguments and anger. Something else was for certain, he definitely has sensed something was going on between you and Yunho and it was eating him up alive.

And from the way the front door was slammed shut, it seems like he was going to get his answer today. “You. Leave. Now.” He says sternly to Yunho as he entered the room.

Yunho glanced at you, but you nodded in return signaling that it was okay. He started to walk out, giving you one last protective glance before disappearing. Jae’s eyes followed him out before looking back at you. “Y/N, tell me what the hell has been going on between you two.” He demanded.

You rolled your eyes, flipping through the magazine not bothering to look up at him. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” You said coldly, your tone unwavering.

“I know something happened while I was gone so just fucking tell me.” Jae yells at you, his fist clenching at his sides.

You looked up at him, “and if something did?” You shrugged “You think it gives you the right to be angry with me, given everything you have done?” You said with attitude as you went back to your magazine.

Jae’s face contorted with rage, shaking his head. “This isn’t about me. This about you, my wife” He says coming up close to you. There he goes with that wife word.

You chuckled, throwing the magazine to the side standing up. “Only when it’s convenient for you Jae. Why? Scared of losing control of this whole fake facade?” You walked past him, over this argument.

He grabs the vase that held the flowers he gifted you and threw it to the wall. You jumped at the sound, turning to face him with widen eyes. His back was still facing you as Jae looked down. From your corner you saw Yunho coming but you put your arm out for him to wait.

“Fucking tell me and don’t lie to me Y/N.” Jae said as he turned around with rage in his eyes. Knowing that Yunho was here in the house, he kept his distance from you as he was terrified of him.

“I’m in love with Yunho.” You finally said after some silence. He shook his head and scoffed at you, “How fucking could you? You would this to me?”

You scoffed at his stupidity. “Oh, so now you want to act like a victim? How many times have you cheated on me behind my back Jae? How many woman? So when the tables turn, it’s an issue all of a sudden.” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He gets closer to you, trying to intimidate you. “So what? You’re just going to leave me and be with the bodyguard? Do you honestly think he can give you what I can’t? You think you can just walk away from me? After everything I have done for you?”

You laughed in his face. “For me? For me?” You started off, “You mean your own personal punching bag? Where I’m constantly disrespected and treated like an accessory? Where I’m always ignored and you go screw some bitch? The only thing you have done was to teach me to never be with someone like you.”

“If you think you’re going to work out with some cheap fling then you’re more delusional than I thought.” He spat at you as you walked away from him.

“Cheap fling? Yunho is more of a man than you will ever be. He’s been everything and more to me than you ever were.” You stopped in your steps, facing him.

You looked down at your rings and take it off. This caused Jae to die a little inside. “I want a divorce.” You chucked it at his feet, leaving the room. Jae looked down at his feet and stared at the rings causing anger to boil inside him to the point he punched the wall.

As you passed the hallway, Yunho, who was ready to jump in at anytime, follows behind you. “Let’s go.” You told him as you grabbed your car keys and walked out the door.

Asking no questions, just focused on you, he opens the door for you and just as you are about to get in, you hear Jae yelling in frustration, telling you to get back inside as he starts breaking stuff. You rolled your eyes as you got into seat. Yunho walked to the driver side and drove off.

———-

The car ride was silent, only noise was the AC that was on low. You looked out the window, watching the cars passing by. “I’m getting a divorce.” You said out loud breaking the silence.

“Wow,” you said in awe of yourself. “I’m getting a divorce.” You couldn’t believe that it’s taken you this long and that you finally did it.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Yunho asks as he takes a quick glance at you. He really can’t read your expression and words clearly right now.

“I think I am?” You said unsure, giving him a shrug. “I don’t know, I feel like I should be but I’m just so overwhelmed. Like, there were so many times I told myself I was done, but never did anything. And now I just- I think I feel free.”

Yunho stops a red light and reaches over to grab your hand. He raised it to his lips as he gave a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I’m really proud of you Y/N. Whatever you do next, I’ll be there every step of the way supporting you.”

The way you were blushing like a school girl at his gesture. You smiled at him, “Thank you Yunho. Thank you for showing me what love is.” You caressed his cheek as you leaned in for a kiss.

______

One thing is certain for Jae, he can rot in hell. He didn’t not waste any time in spreading the news about the divorce publicly. It spread like wildfire throughout the media as it was plastered on magazines, spoken on drama news TV channels, on social apps. You name it, it was there.

The headlines painted the picture of the split, highlighting the scandalous nature of the breakup. And Jae, being a beloved figure, wanting to keep the good man persona in the people’s eye, threw all the blame on you.

You were under so much intense scrutiny, that it became suffocating. You were portrayed as the villain in this whole chaos while Jae was viewed as the innocent victim. As if he could stoop any lower than before, he definitely broke a new record.

At first, you just tried toughing it out. Trying to ignore the whispers and gossip. The harsh looks when you went out. Paparazzi was so far up your ass you couldn’t move without them knowing. But it was hard to escape from the public’s judgement.

One evening, you were at Yunho’s place, which is where you have been staying, skimming through a magazine that had a featured about another headline of you. Yunho who had sense your distress, quickly takes the magazine out of your hands. “Y/N, look at me,” he says he sits on the coffee table, grabbing your hands. “You don’t have to let this get to you. They don’t know the true.”

You looked up at him with sadness in your eyes. “It’s not just about the truth Yunho. It’s about everything!” You stand up as you walked back and forth, “it’s about how this guy who I thought I knew and spent the majority of my life with is out to ruin my life. It’s about everyone quickly believing his lies… I didn’t ask for this. I can’t take this anymore.”

Yunho sighs as he walks up to you, cupping your face. “Listen to me, please,” he leans his forehead, “You’re a strong woman. You have been through hell and back. You have never backed down from a fight. You never once let Jae’s manipulation and bullshit break you, and you’re not going to let this either.” He said as he watched you close your eyes as tears fall down.

You sniffed. “How can I fight this?” You whispered. You honestly felt so lost and broken, you don’t even know what to do or where to start.

“You’re not alone in this. Out in the public you can put a mask of fierceness, show the world you aren’t afraid of what Jae is doing. Show them just how strong and unbreakable you are.” He gives you a tender kiss. “But when we’re behind closed doors, baby, you don’t have to keep the facade. You can lean on me. We can do this.” He says as he hugs you.

You felt like sobbing. Is this what true love is? Throughout this whole darkness, Yunho has been your rock and you honestly don’t know how you would be if you were alone. You’re so thankful for him. “Yunho, thank you. Thank you for being in my life.” You looked up to him as he leaned down and kissed you once more.

______

If Jae wants to play like this, then you can play this game too. After the conversation with Yunho, you felt a fire ignited within you. That conversation helped you remember who the fuck you were and there was no way in hell Jae was going to go out like this.

For the next few weeks you laid low. Out of sight out of mind with the public. Your divorce lawyer, who was sent by the Gods by a miracle, told you to gather all information on your part as she does some digging on her side. Today you were meeting with her and not gonna lie you were sweating bullets.

Who knows what she has found. Did she even find anything? Will she be able to clear your name and reveal who Jae really was? This was also one of the few times you left the house so you just know you were going to be bombarded with questions and cameras in your face.

As the car pulls up, you looked out the window and saw reporters spread all over the place, waiting for you. You then felt Yunho’s hand over yours, causing you to snap out your thoughts. “It’s going to be okay.” He reassures you as you nod. He steps out the car and heads to the other side to open your door.

You can do this, you thought yourself as you put on your shades. Show Jae that you are that bitch. As soon as Yunho opened the door, everyone came flooding in asking a bunch of questions.

You just kept a serious face, purse hanging on your arm as you walked up the stairs while Yunho and other guards of his were making way for you. You tried your best to not react at the stupid questions they asked you.

“Y/N, how does it feel to know that you ruined your marriage?” One asked.

“Was it worth it to you? Care to comment?” One said shoving a microphone in your face.

“Have you spoken to Jae?” Another asked.

Oh and let us not forget the special, special fans of Jae who were also surrounding you were throwing nasty comments at you.

“Don’t you know how to keep your legs closed?” One screamed in your face. You bit down on your tongue, trying not to answer.

“Such a slut. Did all those years mean nothing to you?” One went to jump on you but Yunho shoved her off.

“Have you no shame in bringing him here? Have you no shame in being in public with him? Stupid bitch.” Another one said speaking about Yunho.

You finally reached the door and headed straight to the elevator. When it binged open, you and Yunho stepped in and turned to face the crowd before you. Seeing the flashing lights of the cameras and crazed fans pounding on the glass, their yells being muffled. As soon as the doors closed, you turned and hugged Yunho.

You felt the world crushing in on you in that moment. You had a mixture of overwhelming emotions clouding up your head. Anger, sadness, frustration. You just wanted to cry in silence and thankfully Yunho understood.

You then backed up and wiped your tears, taking in a deep breath. Yunho lifted your chin with his finger as he gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “You got this.” He whispered and you nodded.

The elevator dinged, signaling that you have arrived to the top floor. You straighten up your posture, keeping your head high as you walked the halls. “Stay here.” You told Yunho who nodded and stood next to the door putting his arms behind his back.

You walked in and was greeted by Jina. “Y/N,” she says standing up and shaking your hand, smiling to which you returned. “Welcome. Thank you for coming.”

You shook your head. “No please, I am the one who should be thankful.” She gestures you to sit down. “So tell me, what have you found?”

She wasted no time in take out files and spreading out copies of documentation and photos of Jae with other business men, “Jae’s time of looking like a saint is over. We have found evidence to that showcases all of the cheating and unethical practices within his company,” she starts off as she goes through each paper, describing to you all the horrible practices he has done.

You sat there in shock, taking in the information. You couldn’t believe this was happening everyday behind closed doors. Jae gets scummier and scummier by the minute. You leaned back into your seat letting out a scoff as you scan the papers. Jina then takes out a paper and hands it to you, “What’s this?” You asked her as you take it from her hand.

Jina smirks as she crossed her leg over the other, leaning back crossing her arms. “Signed affidavits of several woman who have confirmed that they have had affairs with Jae while he was married to you.” You looked at her with widen eyes. The devil works hard, but Jina works harder. “Look in that folder.” She points to one near your left arm.

You gasped looking at photos that had Jae partying or going out with women. You see his drunk self doing body shots on girls as well as inappropriate gestures to them. Ugh, you could throw up. Jina nodded as you looked through the pictures, feeling a bit proud of herself.

“And the Cherry on top?” There’s more? “We also have evidence from Jae’s company, NexTech, has been doing fraud, bribery, and exploitation of employees. Let’s just say he has been cutting some corners and violating labor laws to maximize his profits.” She finished off.

You shook your head, just flabbergasted at everything you’re finding out. “Jina,” you said after a moment of silence. “There are no words to describe how thankful I am. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” You said feeling a sense of hope rising in your chest.

She leans over the desk, placing a hand on top of yours. “Of course.” She smiles. “It’s only a matter of time before everything is unraveled. Everyone will know the real truth.”

______

It was later on in the night. You were pacing in Yunho’s living room with gnawing on your thumb in nerves. “Y/N,” Yunho called to you as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Relax. Everything will be okay.” He says trying to calm you down.

You were just caught up in your mind that you didn’t even hear him. Jina told you she was going to release the information tonight and honestly, you were shitting bricks wondering what the out come will be. You felt arms being wrapped around your waist, causing you get out of your thoughts.

“Y/N,” Yunho says as he leans down and kisses your neck. “Why don’t we go relax, mmh? You had a stressful day.” Peppering kisses up and down your neck.

You closed your eyes as you bit your lip, swaying a bit, lifting your hand to caress his head. “Okay. Let’s relax.” You sighed softly. He takes your hand gives you a little twirl, causing you to chuckle, before leading the way to the bathroom.

Steam was swirling in the bathroom as you two passionately kissed under the water. Both of your bodies lathered up with soap, foaming at the little friction you two created. You bit his lower lip, opening your eyes in a haze to look at his face scrunch a bit from the pain. You felt your heart race a bit when he opened his lustful eyes to look at you.

He glided his up your back, tugging your hair gently back causing you to moan in his mouth. Your arms over his shoulders, feeling the warm water slide down your arms and onto Yunho’s body. His free hand slides to down to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze.

In a swift movement, he presses you up against the foggy glass. Your hand prints and pressed up breast showcasing on the glass, turning your head to the side looking at Yunho stroking himself through your peripheral. You bit your lip, feeling your pussy throbbing, impatiently wanting to feel him again.

He placed his hand above yours as his other one guides him inside you. You gasped as the sensation of the stretch, leading more on the glass as the feeling takes over you. His free had placed on your hip as he starts thrusting into you.

The sound of the water clashing between you two intensifies as Yunho starts going faster. The bathroom is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and the moans of pleasure. “You feel so good baby.” Yunho said in his deep voice. “Just for me, right?” He grabs your hair, pulling you back so he can see your fucked out face.

You swallowed, feeling your throat dry from the heavy breathing you’re doing. “Ye-Yes,” you said, feeling your hands slip, trying to catch yourself from falling. “Just for you.”

He smirked as your struggle. “Good girl.” His deep voice made you clench on him, making him moan as letting go of your hair to your clit as he rubbed it. You caught yourself before hitting the glass as you started screaming in pleasure. You started whimpering from the rapid speed he was going. “Cum baby, I know you want to.” He tells you.

You fogged and defogged a spot on the glass that was near your mouth as you tried catching your breath with Yunho shoving your face into it. You shut your eyes tightly as you were nearing your high. “I’m clo-close.” You managed to moaned out. At the same time you and Yunho came, feeling stars as he rode out the highs. “That’s right baby, scream for me. Let everyone know who’s making you feel like this.” He grunts out.

When you two calmed down, you turned around and leaned on the glass, not caring how cold it was. He smiled at you, “Feel better?” He asked you and you playfully hit his chest. “Shut up.” You told him as you both laughed. He put his hands next to your face on the glass and he went for a kiss.

When you actually finished showering, you stepped out scrunching your hair and wrapping a towel around your body, tucking the excess at the top to stop it from falling. From the corner of your eye you saw your phone light up. ‘Turn on Channel 2’, read Jina’s text message.

You gasped with widen eyes as you ran out to the living room, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin as soon as the cold hits your skin. You grabbed the remote flipping through channels not caring about the droplets of water that were falling from your hair were landing on your arms.

“In recent news, Jae’s public image continues to crumble as more details emerge about his affairs and the unethical practices at his company. It is confirmed that these allegations are supported by fundamental evidence,” the reporter says as the screen shows Jae shoving cameras out his face as he is trying to enter a building. He starts yelling at them to get out his face.

“Former employees have provided detailed accounts of the harsh working conditions along with the illegal activities at Jae’s company.” The documents being shown on the screen explain detail per detail on how things were being run.

“Furthermore, details of Jae’s extramarital affairs have also been revealed,” she says as the same photos you saw in the office appeared on the screen too. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. “Multiple woman have come forward and shared evidence along with sources who can confirm his involvement in said acts.”

The reporter finished off by saying, “Legal experts believe this is going to be leading to very serious repercussions for both his business and personal life. As of right now, this is all we have. Stay tune for future updates.” You watch as the screen changes to commercials.

“Y/N?” Yunho who was there behind you the whole time watching everything unfold breaks the silence. “Are you okay?” He asks you.

You turned to him, smiling. “It’s over. I’m free.” You said feeling tears of joy coming in. He extends his hand out and you happily grab it as he pulls you to him. “I’m proud of you. I told you that you could do it.”

“Thank you for being by my side every step of the way, Yunho. I love you.” You say as you kissed him. He smiles into the kiss, “I love you more.”

“Now come on, let’s celebrate.” He says he breaks the kiss. You tilt your head, “Where we going?” You asked him. He smirked as he picks you up bridal style, “It’s best if I show you.”

Oh yeah, you can get use to this.

THE END

[reiderwriter]

NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵

A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...

Word Count: 3k

#127: "I can taste myself on you."

#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."

Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...

Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI

Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!

You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery. 

You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him. 

Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane. 

It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.

You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester. 

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week. 

To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes.  He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention. 

“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him. 

“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk. 

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again. 

“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right? 

You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class. 

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you. 

“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him. 

“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.

“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession. 

“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness. 

“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut. 

“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain. 

“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.

“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?” 

“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations. 

“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you. 

“Yes.” 

“Because you want to…fuck me?” 

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before. 

“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible. 

“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth. 

“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness. 

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement. 

“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened. 

“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime. 

“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing. 

“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster. 

“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch. 

Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor. 

His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him. 

“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact. 

“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations. 

“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.” 

Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck. 

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan. 

“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before. 

“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core. 

“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down. 

“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now. 

“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.

“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks. 

When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if  you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep. 

You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands. 

Miss Y/N, 

Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you. 

- Spencer Reid. 

P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office. 

[tttabii]

—박성훈 FALLING INTO TROUBLE (OR LOVE)

PARK SUNGHOON X READER

note: idol!sunghoon x idol!reader. reader was slightly traumatized by ice skating. pure fluff. word count: 3501

"ARE YOU SHAKING from the cold or from fear that you are going to die on ice?" Sunghoon asked, mild amusement in his voice as he looked over at you.

"Both," you grumbled, pulling your coat closer around your body. The live broadcast had already started, and you both stood outside the rink, snow lightly falling. You had an idol smile plastered on your face; but your insides were screaming. The only thing you had to do was survive.

After getting your skates and walking over the benches, you looked down at them like they were an unknown cursed object. You fiddled with them trying to loosen them, tighten them, basically just anything—to no avail. They might as well have been alien technology.

"You don't know how to put them on do you?" Sunghoon asked, already kneeling in front of you.

"Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled lightly and extended his hand out to you, "Let me."

Unsure, you lifted your foot slightly. He grabbed your sock-covered foot with both hands, heat radiating from his palms, and slowly guided your foot into the skate.

He didn't say anything the whole time, but you definitely felt your cheeks heat up as he laced the skate up with his expert fingers before moving on to the next one.

"There," he said as he tied the knot perfectly before putting his hands into the pocket of his coat. "Put these on too," he added as he passed you a pair of gloves.

You blinked. "What about you?"

"I have my own," he smiled, pulling his gloves from his coat. You nodded, putting one on just as your throat began to feel dry.

After a nervous wave to one of the managers nearby, you mimed water with a sense of urgency.

Sunghoon noticed and chuckled softly to himself as you worked to maintain your composure in front of the cameras. He looked so soft toward you, as if it wasn't embarrassing at all for you—like it was actually cute.

The cameraman, moving easily on the ice as if it was a second language to him, pulled back to catch a wide shot of you entering the rink together. You clung to Sunghoon's arm, almost shivering in anticipation as your blade hit the ice for the first time.

And then—disaster.

You lost your balance completely, giving a startled squeak as your foot slipped out from underneath you. Just as you were set to hit the ground, Sunghoon gripped you by the waist tightly and steadied you with the same calm grace that caused his fans to call him the "Ice Prince."

"I got you," he murmured, looking slightly amused but mostly concerned.

Your hands flew to the railings, holding onto them like they were the last thing keeping you alive. "No," you mumbled, eyes wide, breath puffing in the cold. "No, I really can't do this..."

Your voice was small, lips trembling—not from the cold, but from fear. Sunghoon paused, his hand still hovering near your back as he studied your expression.

He could tell.

You really couldn't skate for shit.

The livestream comments began pouring in already:

"Sunghoon save her!!"

"Not our bunny baby clinging for life—"

"ICE PRINCE AND OUR RABBIT, I'M CRYING"

"Their dynamic is so real—baby chick teaching baby bunny to skate—"

"Just... move with me slowly," he said gently, reaching for your hands. You tried. Really, you did. But your legs were wobbling like jelly and you were nearly about to collapse again.

"Sunghoon—!"

"I got you." He caught you before your butt hit the ice, arms wrapping securely around your waist to stabilize you again. But even then, your skates kept sliding, making you tip forward. His hand went straight to your back, his other arm wrapping fully around you as he held you upright. You were pressed lightly against him now, your face heating up despite the freezing cold.

"Sorry, sorry," you whispered, breathless, trying not to look directly at him because, well—this close, his features were way too flawless. Snowflakes rested on his lashes. His breath was steady. You, however, were about to pass out from embarrassment.

"You're okay," he said softly, not letting go yet. "You're doing better than you think."

Another flood of comments hit:

"THEY'RE GONNA MAKE ME BELIEVE IN LOVE"

"That soft 'you're okay' just punched me in the heart"

"Okay but WHY does this feel like a drama?"

After what felt like a dramatic rescue, Sunghoon slowly skated back a little, giving you space to try for yourself as he explained how to move your feet. "Okay, just put your weight on one foot—no like that—yeah, a little more, and with your knees bent not locked."

You nodded, biting your lip and concentrating. One hand still on the rail, you went through his step-by-step instructions one-by-one. For a second, it actually looked like it was working. Your skates glided an inch, then another. You were doing it. You were actually—

Thunk.

You were on the ice with a small yelp, just as Sunghoon turned to take a brief glance back at the counter, eyes scanning for something—anything—to help you.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught sight of a little push-assist skating aid, which was pastel blue rabbit shaped with handles—had been made precisely for little kids or... well, for adorably helpless idols like you. He turned to the rink staff at the counter. "Can we go ahead and borrow that one? The rabbit?" he asked, and politely nodded to it.

Then he turned back—only to turn back to you, who was still all to definitely on the floor, and you struggled like a helpless baby rabbit trying to get up, arms flailing as your skates kept slipping underneath you. Your group's mascot nickname really wasn't helping the image.

"Oh my god," you whispered under your breath, trying to plant one foot down, only to have it slide away again. "Please, end me now."

Sunghoon suppressed a laugh, skating over quickly to knelt in front of you, his hands gently finding your arms. "Don't move too much, you'll just slide again. Just let me help."

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and fully embarrassed. "I swear, I was doing okay for two seconds..."

"I know," he smirked, the soft, quiet one that made fans melt. "You were doing great. You just... weren't built for ice."

The chat exploded:

"THE RABBIT FOR THE RABBIT—"

"HE GOT HER A RABBIT RIDER THING???"

"I'm sobbing why is this so cute"

"GETTING HER A KID'S PUSH THING THAT IS SO SUNGHOON"

Then, after what felt like forever, the rink staff brought over the rabbit-shaped skating aid. Taking extra care with you, Sunghoon helped you sit on it, holding your hands like you were glass, and making sure your balance was right before he gripped the back of the little rabbit and pushed you forward gently.

"Okay," he said, eagerly grinning. "Now you’re skating."

"Sunghoon," you said deadpan, arms wrapped around the ears of the bunny, "this is a child's thing."

"And yet, you're not falling," he teased, pushing you along slowly like you were on a royal sled.

You buried your face in your gloves, groaning in mock defeat as the viewers spammed:

"I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE"

"PRINCE SUNGHOON AND HIS RABBIT PRINCESS"

"This is literally healing content. I feel reborn."

"He's so gentle with her I'm gonna cry."

As you continued laughing, your gloved hands tightening around the bunny's ears, Sunghoon abruptly stopped near the center of the rink. "Okay," he said with a smirk, stepping around you, "you sit here—I'm gonna flex now."

"Huh?" You blinked.

He adjusted his sleeves, the wind catching his coat slightly. "You've never seen me skate properly, right? You should at least know you're in good hands."

With that, he skated backwards, slowly building up momentum, before ringing off a nice, clean, spin that had everyone aghast, your mouth agape. He followed with an elegant glide, then a jump—not diagonally across the rink like a competition move, but clearly showing everyone he still had it. Everything he did was free and easy and elegant and confident.

And the live chat exploded:

"ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS???"

"EX-FIGURE SKATER MY ASS, HE STILL GOT IT"

"Look at our prince show off for his princess!!!"

You were clapping in your seat on the bunny, laughing in shock. "Okay okay, fine, that was cool!"

He skated back over to you with that shy little smile, now a little breathless, running a hand through his hair. "I told you."

"You didn't have to make it look so easy," you teased, nudging him lightly with your glove.

Leaning in slightly, voice low just for you, he said, "I'll teach you someday... properly. No cameras."

Your heart was thudding, warmth blossoming in your chest that had nothing to do with the multiple layers of clothing you wore.

"Deal," you whispered, just as the camera zoomed out capturing your smile and the way Sunghoon looked at you like you were the cutest thing he had ever seen.

After Sunghoon completed his little stunt, he skated back to you, took both of your hands and said," okay, you got this. No railings this time." While looking directly into your eyes, there was a soft gentleness in his gaze that made your heart skipped a beat.

"Nope. I don't. I do not got this," you muttered as panic coursed through your body trying to started to grow and your skates wobbled underneath you. you grasped his hands tightly, your eyes wide.

"You're fine," he chuckled softly, and then pulled you just a little. "trust me."

But your knees buckled practically instantaneously and before you knew it, just before you could nosedive and faceplant onto the ice, his arms were around you—tight and assured. You gasped as you felt your feet lift off the ice, letting out a small yelp of panic as he laughed. "S-Sunghoon! Put me down, seriously—!"

He laughed, effortlessly lifting you in a bridal carries while gliding across the rink like it was nothing. "you were about dive off, I had to save you."

You buried your face in his scarf as you couldn’t stop giggling. "I'm going to pass out, like literally I'm about to pass out. I can't be this high above the ice again."

"Okay, okay, "he grinned and slowed down and gently lowered you down back onto the rink, but kept one hand on your waist to steady you. You clung to him like your life depended on it.

The live chat exploded once again:

"THE WAY HE PICKED HER UP???"

"That was NOT in the script and you cannot convince me otherwise."

"me and who."

Once you both stepped away from the rink, and back into your normal shoes, your hands were still shaking a little but mostly from the cold. Snow had started falling again, landing in your hair and sprinkling Sunghoon's lashes. You both strolled to the food booths, following the scent of tteokbokki and roasted sweet potatoes.

He bought you a hot drink and handed it to you without saying much, just giving you that soft look he always had. You took a sip, blowing into the cup as you looked over at him. His coat was dusted in white, cheeks flushed red, and his hair sparkled with melting snowflakes. You almost forgot how shy he actually was.

You weren't much different. It took everything in you not to shrink under the stares—even though there weren't many people around, the live was still rolling, and comments weren't slowing down.

"Introverts IRL falling for each other omg."

"I have never seen either of them so comfortable with anyone."

"Even Sunghoon doesn't normally do fanservice like this. I'm suspicious."

You chuckled softly at the last one, showing him the comment on your phone. He looked at it and smiled, then looked away, taking a sip of his drink. "They're not wrong," he said, almost too faint for the mic to capture.

That silence between you had this familial comfort to it. Safe. The kind of silence that you didn't have to fill with anything weird. It wasn't about being funny or charming, just you and him.

Just warming up with food, cheeks red from the cold and adrenaline, stealing shy little glances while watching each other in case there was something to say that neither one of you knew how to say yet.

The manager motioned from the side, gesturing for you and Sunghoon to keep walking down the path of snowy vendors. "They want you two to explore more. Maybe show the viewers some cute snacks or souvenirs," he said, voice just barely caught on the mic.

Sunghoon gave a small nod, brushing his fingers against his own sleeve to dust the snow off. "Let's check out the game booths," he suggested softly, glancing at you.

You looked up from your drink, blowing into it to keep your hands warm. "Are we even allowed to play in these shoes?" you whispered, pointing down at your boots with a chuckle.

"We'll risk it," he grinned faintly, and the camera caught the way he tilted his head just a little to look at you longer. You tried not to visibly melt.

As you wandered past food stalls filled with warm food and noisy lights, you stumbled upon a small vendor with plushies hanging from the ceiling won from a ring toss game. One caught your attention—a sky blue dolphin with sparkly eyes and little mittens.

"Oh my god," you mumbled as you slowed down. "That's so cute."

Sunghoon noticed where you were looking and chuckled. "That one?"

You nodded, then turned to the camera like a child at a fair. "I want it."

The live chat went wild:

"Get it for her Sunghoon, don't play."

"He better win that dolphin or I'm rioting."

"They're literally in a drama. I'm the camera."

The vendor smiled at you both and handed Sunghoon three rings. "Good luck," they said, but you could tell they knew who he was without saying anything. It was nice. Gentle.

You stood next to him, nervously clasping your hands in front of you. "Are you good at this?" you asked.

"I used to be..." he muttered, lining up his first toss seriously. He missed.

You giggled. "Used to?"

"Don't distract me," he said, playfully eyeing you from the corner of his eye. The second ring landed—barely—and the third one missed again.

"That's one ring! That counts!" you grinned.

The vendor nodded. "That's enough for a small plush."

Sunghoon turned to you, gesturing toward the dolphin. "That one?"

You lit up, nodding quickly. "Please."

When he handed it over, you clutched it to your chest like it was the most important thing in the world. "I'll name him Icey."

He blinked, then laughed—a real one. "Icey?"

"Ice prince, Icey," you teased with a grin, nudging him with your elbow. "He's part of the lore now."

"ICEY. STOP I CANT DO THIS."

"She made a nickname out of his nickname I'm gonna scream."

"No fr they're flirting. This is flirting."

You kept strolling together, you hugging the dolphin to your chest and Sunghoon occasionally glancing at you, his expression just barely softening each time. The snowflakes continued to fall, settling in your hair again—and once, he quietly reached over to brush one off your sleeve without a word.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. But it felt like something quietly blooming in the middle of winter.

The van door made a soft thud as it shut behind you as you buckled in, the live continuing to roll. You picked quietly at the warm waffle you had purchased earlier, your eyes trained on the screen reading the fan comments streaming in like a waterfall.

"Thank you for watching," you said, a small smile on your lips, almost a crumb at the corner of your mouth. "I'm glad you guys liked today's-"

Without a word, Sunghoon leaned slightly over and meticulously brushed his fingers against the left side of your mouth. He flicked away the crumb without any fanfare and leaned back into his seat.

Your mouth hung open in surprise, unsure if you should say something and be an annoying girl, but you had also not stopped him either. Instantly, your ears warmed with a soft blush, trying your best to go unnoticed like this was all normal. The plush dolphin sat between you both like an approved chaperone on a very expensive date inside an even more expensive van.

The cameraman let out a gentle laugh before turning off the live.

"HE WIPED THE CRUMB SOMEONE HOLD ME."

"I'M SCREAMING, MY PARENTS ARE HOME PLEASE."

"The way she just let him??? Oh this is real."

When the van pulled up to your dorm, you held the plushie close to your chest as you stepped out, waving goodbye to Sunghoon. "Text me when you get back," you said softly.

He nodded, gaze lingering for a second too long. "Don't fall asleep before replying."

You turned around quickly so he wouldn't see your red ears again.

The moment you stepped into the dorm, your members pounced.

When you walked into the dorm, your members jumped on you immediately.

"Is that the dolphin?!"

"Why were you BLUSHING like that?!"

"Oh my god, he wiped your mouth? Are you dating?!"

You gasped, embarrassed, and held Icey even closer to your chest as you said in a small voice, "You're all so loud!" while bolting to your room.

Halfway across the city, Sunghoon came into his dorm to absolute chaos.

"Hyung."

"Explain yourself."

"Wiping her face?"

"Giving her the plush?"

"He gave it to her because he won it for her. He was gentle."

He just shook his head and walked straight to his room. All he mumbled was "it was live."

But then a week later, you were on another live again—this time just a casual hangout with your group. The living room was a disaster zone of snacks and laughter, with board games everywhere on the floor. You, the maknae, were lounging on the couch in a pair of soft Hello Kitty pajamas, a plushie in your lap, and a star pimple patch stuck to your cheek.

No makeup, just plain skin, and just being you. It was everything the fans wanted.

"HER PJS I'M GONNA CRY."

"she's wearing no makeup and still pretty, I wanna be like her when I grow up."

"She is like... real real."

While your members were bickering over UNO cards, you were half paying attention to your phone, your thumbs tapping away quickly. Every once in a while though, you would stifle a small smile as you replied to a message.

"Yah," your older member said from behind you and peered over your screen with interest.. "You're texting him, aren't you?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What-"

She gasped dramatically, "It is him!"

The chat lost it:

"WHO IS HIM???"

"IS IT ICE PRINCE"

"WHAT IF SHE'S TEXTING SUNGHOON RN."

"SOMEONE HACK HER PHONE."

You covered your face with the plushie, groaning. "You guys are the worst."

And the plushie? Still there sitting on your lap like a silent witness to your entire soft, slow-burn chaos, loved every moment of it.

You finally put your phone down, your cheeks still warm, and walked back to the table where your members were halfway through a chaotic game of UNO. You slid in between two of them and set the plush dolphin with your deck as if it was now an honorary member of the group.

"Okay, next round!"

"Maknae, no mercy this time."

"Give me all your Draw Fours."

Laughter bubbled up as the game began, only for the chaos to shift into a casual game of Would You Rather halfway through. Fans were still watching the live, loving how comfortable and low-key everything felt.

Meanwhile...

In another dorm, Sunghoon sat at his desk with his laptop open, watching the live with one hand lazily propping up his chin. His expression was unreadable, but the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips every time your voice came through. His fingers tapped idly on his phone, clearly in your messages.

The camera caught you biting your lip, squinting at your cards.

"Would you rather kiss someone right after they eat garlic or text your crush right now and tell them you like them?"

You rolled your eyes and groaned, "Do I have to pick?"

The girls shrieked. The fans blew up. Sunghoon froze.

"...You're playing with fire," he muttered under his breath.

Then—

THUMP.

The door to his room swung wide open and slammed against the wall.

"Hyung! What are you—" Ni-ki's voice trailed off abruptly, mid-sentence, when he noticed the obviously live feed happening on Sunghoon's screen.

Sunghoon panicked. "I-I was just checking in-I-" He slammed the laptop shut so suddenly it snapped. "Privacy?! Ever hear of it!?"

Ni-ki raised a brow, a suspicious smirk forming on his face. "You were watching her, weren't you?"

"No," Sunghoon terribly lied.

"You're blushing."

"Shut up, close the door."

"Would you rather kiss someone or text your crush," Ni-ki teased before he backed out. "Y/N's probably waiting for your text."

"Close the damn door, NISHIMURA."

And somewhere across the city, your group had just dared you to answer the next spicy "Would You Rather" question, and you looked down at your phone again—only to see:

[1 New Message]

From: Park Sunghoon

ice prince : just so you know... i'd rather text mine.

[outofconcheol]

resonance (scb x f!reader)

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, arranged marriage, e2l (a little bit), sort of cyberpunk au, 18+

summary: Perfection - an idea that’s been drilled into you from birth. As the sole heir to the empire known as Miroh Labs, you’ve watched technology and tradition collide. However, your family’s latest venture is one that puts your own fate in limbo – ambitiously arranging a marriage to an android of their creation, known as C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N. Grappling with the idea of marrying a machine, you come to realize Changbin is more than a set of intricate codes – the profound depths of his abilities are capable of changing the fabric of society, and you, forever.

warnings: strained parent child relationships (OC's parents are jerks), mentions of past abuse (very mild and not described in detail), class differences, failed past relationship references numerous times, cameos from Chan, Jisung, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Yuna (ITZY), fair warning OC is a lot, Changbin is precious, self-doubt and negative feelings, arguments, alcohol, blood and injury, swearing, genetic engineering, talks of self-determination and agency, Streetlight my beloved makes an appearance

word count: 12k

a/n: happy (belated) bday to my beloved Changbin (almost a month later, nice)! i hope this is enjoyable and worthy of someone as wonderful as Changbin seems (i might have slightly fallen in love with him while writing this, don't look at me). the lovely banner is by Sarah (@caelesjjk). I hope you enjoy!

smut warnings under the cut!

smut warnings: sexual tension (lots of it), making out, kind of hatefucking?, sex outside (against a railing), clothed sex, dirty talk, brief nipple play, thigh riding, fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex (just because Changbin can doesn't mean you should), honestly more mild than the warnings imply

It’d been years since you’d seen candles - forgotten memories of birthdays past that faded into oblivion. Their warm, nascent glow had flickered much like your own life had, the comfort of past years giving way to the bright, grating pixels of the lights that illuminated New Domino - bright pinks, vivid greens, cool blues and silvers. Lights that greeted you from your window when you went to bed every night, reminding you that no matter how much your life stalled, the city never would, much of it your own family’s doing.

The years before Miroh Labs, your family’s company, took hold of the city,  became difficult to recall — before the towering skyscrapers blocked out the sun, neon lights replacing its rays, technology weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of your lives, like the patterns on your dress.

Picking at the threads – you wonder if someone had put love and care into intertwining each one, meeting perfectly to create the image of a flower. But the thought quickly dispels — knowing that a specialized machine was behind it, or an android doing the work that was once meant for humans. 

Resonance, your family prided themselves on saying. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – only it’d progressed beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Systems had advanced from being motherboards connected to screens to full blown humanized machines, who not only had to ability to perform human functions, but excel at them when it came to speed, efficiency, and cost. 

The thought of it made you sick to your stomach. As the presumptive heir to Miroh Labs’ empire, you’d seen firsthand how ambition had slowly given way to greed, your family creating and creating and creating, giving no mind to how their projects always seemed to end up in the hands of the city’s elite.

You’d been to the outskirts, the fringes of society failing to catch up with the advancement of the inner city, a ruined wasteland where people struggled to find work to bring home food for their families.

But they had candles, you muse, smiling lightly to yourself, remembering how you’d passed by a home once, devoid of any electricity, a single candle flickering in the window, the family huddled around their only source of light. It had brought them closer in ways that you could only dream of.

Which is why the intimate setting of the dining room shocked you today – lights dim, candleglow every prominent. Except instead of comforting you, it felt strangely eerie, casting shadows on the faces of your parents, seated at the head of the long table, your own chair pulled out at the very opposite end. 

Of course - your parents spared no opportunity to turn even the simplest of dinners into a boardroom meeting. Wincing, you feel the chair screech as you slide it across the cool tile, the sound grating your ears, which have begun to ring, pain throbbing at your temples.

The food is untouched, grave expressions on your parents’ face, and it’s your father who breaks the deafening silence.

“There’s a new project we want you to be a part of—”

“Forget it,” you pick at your plate. “I’m not interested. It’s not like I can contribute anything useful anyway.”

“This one’s different,” your mother’s voice cuts you off, and it’s softer, more gentle than you’ve ever heard it. For a moment, you could believe she actually cared.

Your father’s footsteps reverberate against the tile, walking over to your side of the table. A picture is set in front of you – a man. Dark curly hair, full lips, a strong jaw, the faint hint of muscle underneath his shirt. But it’s his eyes that pierce through the page – stark hazel. Your throat feels tight, closing in on itself.

“New employee?” you ponder, even though you know it’s not the answer.

Hazel eyes were for androids — no human would have eyes so piercing, ones that could glint in the darkest room, or pale in the brightest sun.

“___, meet C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Advanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. Our pride and joy.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the words, knowing they’d never applied to you – you with your rebellious streak, your lack of achievements, your failed engagement to a man that was far too good for you. 

Hyunjin’s face flashes in the back of your mind, and you fight to keep your expression from shifting.

“C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N was created for a very specific purpose you see — he’s been built and programmed to be the perfect companion. To provide all the qualities that one would normally seek in a spouse. Although humans are falliable, C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N is not. But we need a beta tester.”

The reality of what your parents are proposing dawns on you, horror creeping up your spine.

“No–,” you begin to protest, but you’re cut off by a wave of your father’s hand. 

“The announcements have already been uploaded to the city-wide servers. Starting tomorrow, news of C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N’s launch will go live, along with your engagement announcement. The wedding will be held in a week’s’ time.”

You look despondently to your mother, hoping the pain in your eyes is enough to dissuade her. Were you really that worthless to your parents that they’d hand you to a hunk of scrap metal, dooming you to loneliness for the rest of your life?

Your mother shakes her head. “___, dear, this is the least you can do for us, and for Miroh Labs. Especially given everything that’s happened.”

They always wielded it against you — the fact that you were hard to love. You hadn’t been enough to persuade Hyunjin to stay, and they’d experienced the fallout from whispers all around New Domino. Now, you were barely human in their eyes, not even equal to, and probably lesser than this machine they’d fabricated, one whose fate had become irrevocably intertwined with yours. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

When Changbin wakes, everything is a blur. While his lungs don’t burn for air, his circuits are driven haywire anyway by the new environment - the harsh gleam of fluorescent lights, the gentle whirring of motors, the coolness of the metal table. It hits him all at once, and he’s tempted to close his eyes again, to return to the darkness of being powered down.

A figure looms over him, a taller man in a lab coat, his eyes gentle and full of concern, almost as if he’s holding his breath looking at Changbin.

“Hello C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, my name is Chan. I am one of the lead research developers at Miroh Labs. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Changbin feels his system boot up, gentle heat spreading through the center of his body, all the way to his fingertips.

“Good morning, Chan. I am C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Andvanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. How may I be of assistance?”

His voice reverberates through his speakers, a monotonous tinge resounding against the empty walls of the lab, and he watches Chan’s face twist,

“Do you know why you’re here right now?” Chan asks, curiosity in his gaze.

“I am an advanced computer-human android, programmed to fulfill the role of a partner. My duties and capabilities include companionship, emotional support, and assistance with domestic tasks, designed to blend into one’s life seamlessly.”

As he speaks, Changbin notices his sensors blinking, watching different parts of his arm, chest, and the rest of his body light up as various programs are activated. 

Chan slides something in his direction – a sheet of paper with a picture on it. He takes a look at it, his cameras analyzing the woman in the photo. Everything from the colour of her hair to the tiny mole on the back of her hand, to the way she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, perhaps evidence that something is different with her psychology from normal humans.

“This is ___, the next in line to be CEO of Miroh Labs. You will be her future companion,” Chan sighs heavily. “The family has already gone live with the announcement for the wedding, we only have a week to prepare.”

Changbin’s sensors beep, red lights blinking while he processes what Chan is saying, and Chan looks on, a deep furrow in between his brows.

“A w-week?” Changbin, stutters, and Chan already wonders if there’s something wrong with his circuitry. That couldn’t be possible though, the ___ family had tasked him with working on this for the better part of nine months, dedicating each and every hour of his spare time to this endeavour. He brushes off the thought, knowing that there was no way your parents would proceed unless everything was guaranteed to be perfect. After all, the motto of Miroh Labs was to create a more perfect world.

Changbin straightens, legs swinging over the edge of the table as he rises, standing slightly shorter than Chan.

“I understand my responsibilities, Chan. I assure you I will carry them out to the best of my abilities, until ___ is nothing less than satisfied.”

Chan looks at the android in front of him, his face softening. For a moment, Changbin looked as real as him – from the way his hair curled to the strong lines of his body. He almost reminded him of a younger sibling, and a protective instinct washed over Chan.

“I know you will Changbin. But there’s also something you should know.”

Changbin looks up with anticipation at Chan, wondering if there was a new program Chan wanted to add, and whether that meant he had to wait before he could meet ___.

“Please don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, but should you ever decide that this is what you want, or that you desire to do something different, to be somewhere else, there’s always a way out. You’re more than just an android Changbin.”

Changbin’s processors began to hum. More than just an android? It didn’t make sense to him. His programs were designed to be the best, to cover every single duty one could expect from a partner. What more could there be? Still, Chan’s words sparked intrigue, and he saved a recording of them to his memory, just in case they would be useful later.

“Alright then Changbin, shall we get started? There’s a lot we need to go over about ___ before the wedding happens. Her favourite colour, favourite foods, the layout of her apartment … these will help inform your programs to adapt even more perfectly to your duties,” Chan’s voice is calm and even, with no hints of the darkness of the previous conversation in his tone at all.

They tour around the laboratories, Chan introducing him to the new world he was now expected to be a part of — from the windows, Changbin looks out onto New Domino, watching the hovercrafts zip down the neon-lit streets, and the skyscrapers graze the clouds, a dense fog covering up the skyline. 

Changbin listens intently as Chan goes on, his motors continuing to whir and sensors lighting up as each new piece of information is revealed — the new dimensions of his existence seemed vast and overwhelming, and he worried whether he’d be up to the task, knowing what happened to androids who were faulty – they were deprogrammed, becoming no more than scrap metal to fuel the fires of those on the fringes of society. Shuddering at the thought, Changbin knew he had no choice but to succeed. All he could hope was that you would accept him too. 

Goosebumps rise all along your arms — you feel the thorns of the roses prick your fingers as you clutch the bouquet in your hands tighter, listening from behind the door as the muted whispers of the guests fill the ceremony space. You can hear cameras going off, preparing yourself to be met with a grand scene - shimmering lights, velvet drapes, everything bathed in opulent hues of gold and silver. 

There’s an uncomfortable buzz – everything had happened so quickly. From the invitations going out to the details being finalized, you’d had little to no say in any of it, the uncomfortable lace of the dress you could barely voice your resistance to scratching against your skin, setting it on fire. For once, you wished you could down a glass of champagne or two to keep the nerves at bay. 

A pit settles in your stomach once the door opens, and you’re blinded by the twinkling lights of crystal chandeliers. Heart pounding in your ears, you move automatically without thinking, heels clacking against the polished marble floor. Everything around you is a blur – senses in overdrive, it all melds together. The bright flashes of the photographers, the uncomfortably cold temperature of the room, even the soft tones of the piano becoming grating to your ears.

The only thing that remains clear is the figure waiting for you at the end. You suck in a breath – seeing Changbin for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning of a specimen he was. Of course, he’d been designed to be crafted to perfection, but he was beyond flawless. 

Clad in a black tux, the fabric hugs his broad, muscular, frame and tapers at the waist, highlighting his athletic build. His dark hair is swept away from his forehead, exposing the prominent angles of his face. The put-togetherness of his appearance must only serve to highlight the chaos of your own, the makeup doing little to cover up the lack of sleep you’d dealt with ever since that fateful meeting with your parents. 

Coming up to the altar, Changbin extends his hand in your direction, and you’re shocked when you feel the warmth of his hand. Sparks jolt where your skin makes contact, and for a moment you forget that he’s not human like you, a jumble of circuits and running electricity. But it floats away when his posture goes rigid once again, with no hint of emotion on his face. 

Mechanical – that’s how every bit of this felt. From the brittleness in the officiant’s tone as he droned on about the sanctity of marriage, to the pointed stares and light din that surrounded what should have been a sacred moment – two souls joining together as one. But Changbin didn’t have a soul. And you weren’t sure you did either. The two of you were just glass figurines, put on display for everyone to ogle, cogs in the machine of this elaborate public spectacle that your parents had crafted. 

For a brief moment, you wonder if Hyunjin’s somewhere in the crowd, eyes widening as you search frantically for him, the one person who could have been your out, your chance at a normal life. But not a single face stands out to you – a crowd of strangers looking back at you. A bead of sweat pools at the base of your neck, and you suck in a breath.

You feel fingers wrap around your own, Changbin’s hand coming to clasp around yours, and it takes a moment for you to reorient yourself to the scene going on around you. The officiant is asking you to join hands, ready to repeat the vows that will join you and Changbin together. 

Changbin’s eyes bore into yours, the hazel containing more depth than you’d imagined for an android. 

“Are you ok?” the words are whispered so quietly you may have almost missed them. In fact, you believe you might have missed them, unable to believe what’s coming out of Changbin’s mouth. His voice is deeper than you’d expected, gravelly yet with a pleasant tone, far from the flat and monotone affect you’d expected. 

Either two things could have been true in this moment: 1) Changbin knew you better than you knew yourself, or 2) he was malfunctioning, a slip in his meticulous programming. But androids weren’t people, they weren’t capable of feeling for people. They were only capable of completing the tasks set out for them. 

You drop his hand, lips parting, unable to croak out a reponse for fear of arousing suspicion. But the moment is over before you’d even had a chance to respond, buried underneath his calculated rigidness once more. 

The knife twists deeper in your gut when your lips curl around the “I do”, the words sounding as artificial as Changbin’s own, sealing the vows that doomed the two of you to a loveless existence by each others’ side.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you pull the heavy diamond earrings out of your ear, setting them on the cool crisp marble of your bathroom counter, rubbing at your burning earlobes. Alone in the comfort of your bathroom, you feel like you’re finally able to breathe again. And that’s when it all hits you, the gravity of what had just transpired weighing on you with the force of a heavy boulder. 

Throat closing in on itself, you struggle to breathe, doubling over as tears fill your eyes. Fingers, shaking, you fumble with the laces of your dress, until the tightness is removed from your rib cage and you can finally breathe again, the dress falling to the floor.

If Hyunjin was here, he’d help you take it off, his fingers dancing delicately across the skin of your back. He’d remove the pins from your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your head in the spot where each one of them had been, until you finally grew tired of his teasing, pulling him in to meet your lips. If Hyunjin had been here, your wedding would have been full of love and joy and laughter, the most vivid of paintings come to life. But you’d lost him, and now yourself. You were alone.

A distant clanging jolts you from your misery, and you slip into your pyjamas, softly padding out from your bathroom to see what the commotion was about. Immediately, you’re hit with the aroma of savoury garlic and herbs, stomach rumbling in response. You’d barely eaten anything the whole night, scared that whatever you tried to would just come back up due to the gnawing feeling in your gut.

It hits you that you were no longer alone in this apartment — there was another being here now, one who’d managed to crawl inside the walls that you’d kept up. Changbin had no choice but to be here with you, to see you at your most vulnerable and exposed. 

The hallway is dark as you make your way to the kitchen, pausing when you see Changbin bent over the stove, a crisp white apron around his waist. He’d changed too, clad in a comfy pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt that showcases his wide shoulders.

The grumbling of your stomach gives you away – Changbin turning to see you at the threshold, his face lighting up in a smile. You notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes, restrained and polite – like the ones that littered the billboards of New Domino, promoting the latest breakthroughs.

“Dinner is almost ready,” he assures you. “I made aglio e olio.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the Italian dish he’d mentioned — one of your favourites, but it sours when you think about how he’d probably been trained by the researchers to know your preferences. If it had been another person, maybe he would have made kimchi jigae or maqluba. It meant nothing.

“Smells great,” you manage to croak out, grateful for the hot meal. In a few moments, the table is full of two steaming plates of pasta, Changbin taking his place at the other end. You’re grateful he doesn’t try to sit next to you, allowing you to eat in piece. Silence passes, filled only with the clanging of forks, and you watch Changbin bristle in his chair. He pauses every few moments, like he wants to say something, but holds back, until you can no longer take it.

“What is it?” you spit out, uncaring at how harsh the words come across. Changbin doesn’t flinch, but you watch lights run across his arm, whirring emanating from him, like he’s trying to process your actions. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you enjoy the meal?” he asks, and you’re taken aback. You hadn’t expected such a simple, yet earnest question. You’d half-expected him to ask you to rate his skills from one to ten, like the surveys that popped up whenever you dined out at a fancy restaurant.

“It was delicious,” you refuse to lie. The pasta had quelled the burning hunger you’d felt, making you considerably less irritable, and Changbin whirs to life again, processing what you’d just told him.

You help him clean up, the two of you working in tandem to clear the table, carefully skirting around each other. Shadows dance across the wall from the city lights reflecting through the window.

Warmth emanates from Changbin, as you feel his heavy breath fan the back of your neck, startled by how life-like it actually felt. You realize you’re caged behind his arms as he puts the dried plates into the cabinet above you, the air growing thick with something you couldn’t name.

Turning around, you’re pressed against the hard planes of Changbin’s chest, and you lurch at the way your body comes to life against his, nipples peaking in the cold air. 

A light flickers at Changbin’s temple, and he studies you curiously, watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your breathing quickens.

His gaze lingers on your lips, leaning in closer. But before he can meet yours, you’re pulling away, shame and guilt in your chest. This wasn’t real. None of it was. And the sooner you learned to accept it, the less miserable both of you would be.

“I’m tired,” you whisper into thin air, turning your face away from his. “I want to go to bed.”

You swear Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment before he straightens, responding with the mechanical tone you’d expected all along.

“Of course, you must be exhausted from today.”

You falter, not knowing whether he’d follow you into your room. Now that you were married, it was expected you’d share a bed. Stepping away, you’re relieved when he doesn’t follow.

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, your mind replays everything that had happened – the fake fanfare of the wedding to Changbin asking if you were okay, to whatever had just happened now. Changbin couldn’t have wanted to kiss you, right? He lacked his own desires. Someone had probably told him that was what couples did. 

The softness of your sheets and the light streaming in from your window did nothing to quell the turmoil arising within you – your room no longer felt like the safe refuge it had once been, where you could shut out the rest of the world. 

In the silence of the night, the weight of what your life had become settled heavily on your chest. Once full of warmth and love, it was now cold and unfeeling, as clinical as the hallways of Miroh Labs. 

For a brief moment, you hear steps come towards your bedroom, before they retreat. The hallway light flickers, before it’s turned off, and you’re able to retreat into the darkness once more.

No, you’d told your parents when they’d brought up the idea. Absolutely not.

As usual, your pleading fell on deaf ears. The invites had already been accepted, your dress had been arranged, and a night filled with mindless drivel and booze chatting with the city’s elite waited for you and Changbin. 

You hated it – this pretending. At home, it was easy to accept, the way you and Changbin moved around each other, the uneasiness of that first night permeating every interaction you’d had after. But out here, in New Domino, the pretending had to happen. You had to play the part of a couple in love.

Changbin took to it easier than you’d expected. You’d nearly stumbled the moment you’d stepped out of your room, watching him turn to you with hands tucked into the pockets of yet another black tux. You briefly wondered if it was the exact same one he’d worn to the wedding – it wasn’t like there was a need for him to have different outfits, since his clothes never got dirty. 

You hoped Changbin didn’t notice your gaze lingering on just how good he managed to look – outshining even your emerald silk gown. You wait for the same from him – a falter, a nod, some sort of acknowledgment that he was just as taken by you. But it never comes, his arm slipping stiffly into yours. 

The car ride to the gala is silent, a sea of nerves and anxiety filling the space between you two. The lights from the city pass you by, illuminating Changbin’s face in a strange, yet beautiful glow. 

However, you barely acknowledge it, lost in thought while watching the cars speed by on the freeway. Before long, the glittering lights of the manor greet you, and it feels as though you’re transported back in time. As much as the upper echelon of New Domino loved their androids and their hovercrafts, nothing could replace the value of a night full of egregiously expensive liquor and brainless chatter about how far society had come, knowing they’d done little to contribute to it besides emptying their pockets.

Changbin lingers by your side, and you’re painfully aware of his scent – the one he’d chosen for tonight. Black leather and sandalwood saturate the air in between you, and you notice the stares from other guests as the two of you weave through the crowd, you in search of water to clear the pounding headache that had begun to form at your temples.

For how out of place he is, Changbin dances the dance of your peers well – meeting their fake smiles with a polished one of his own, waving and happily introducing himself to anyone that passes by.

It shouldn’t bother you that none of it directed at you – you told yourself you didn’t want his affection, that he could never give you what he desired. So why did it bother you when he stops one of the hostesses for a glass of champagne, watching her face turn sour when he swerves to hand it to you?

You down the drink before he can even blink, moving away from him and further into the throng. Your head is buzzing, and you feel the alcohol come straight back up, rushing to the bathroom when you hear it – a soft whisper, but it cut through the music like a blade.

“It’s almost amusing,” a woman says, “to see such a flawless machine with someone so... human.”

“You know what happened with her last engagement, right? Hyunjin left her for another woman…”

It’s too much to bear, bile rising in your throat, before you feel a hand on the small of your back. If Changbin was human, you’d almost expect his knuckles to turn white with the force he uses to grip your waist. 

“I suggest you keep your unwanted comments to yourself,” Changbin seethes, watching the guests turn pale. You sway under his touch, head spinning from the combination of alcohol and Changbin coming to your defense, before he’s leading you away, the crisp night air from the balcony nipping at your backs.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you gently, while you watch the same light at his temple flicker. 

None of this was okay. None of it at all. But you didn’t want to make him understand how much was wrong with you being here with him, when it should have been someone else, someone you actually had loved. 

“It’s fine,” you clear your throat, peeling his hand from your waist. His touch continues even after you’ve removed his fingers, and you shiver. 

You were used to it – the stares, the whispers. They’d followed you your whole life, the cuts left in their wake eventually turning into hardened scars. You didn’t need defending, least of all from him.

“I’m going to leave,” you tell him, stepping away. “You’re free to stay. Please don’t let me ruin your evening.” 

“I can go with you,” his voice echoes from beside you, “I was getting tired anyway.”

A sick, twisted laugh bubbles from your throat at his insistence. Changbin didn’t get tired, he couldn’t get tired. He wasn’t like you.

“Stay,” your voice is resolute. “That’s an order, Changbin.”

Changbin turns to face you, recoiling at the red rimming your eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent when the lights of the manor illuminate you from behind. 

You don’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Your paralysis slowly melts away and you’re pushing him away without realizing it, walking away without another word. You don’t dare to turn around, knowing your heart would twist when you found Changbin looking at you again with that same blank expression – the one you’d come to know all too well.

Dawn is is barely trickling when you slip out of your apartment. Passing by the living room, you notice Changbin in the corner, standing against the wall. For a moment, he looks so peaceful you would almost think he’d fallen asleep. However, you take one look at the outlet and realize he’s powered down for the night, free from his duties of following you around. A pang of annoyance rattles through you. It should have been romantic, knowing Changbin had no point to his existence if it didn’t revolve around you. All it did was made you sick to your stomach instead. 

Curling your jacket tighter around you, you duck your head down, few vehicles on the streets due to the early hour. The city seemed eerie yet peaceful at dawn, the dim rays of sun barely breaking through the clouds, casting everything in a soft orange glow. Such a stark contrast from the bright neon and gray that tinged its walls at every other time of day.

With only the sound your heels slamming against the pavement to keep you company, your walk slips into a run as your coat flies behind you, the wind whipping through your air. The city is soon left behind, tall skyscrapers giving way to modest brick houses, plumes of smoke wafting through the air.

Fire. You smile at the thought of it. Fire meant happy homes, with happy families. Families who relied on each other, who loved one another.

The haze that had clouded your head last night seems to have subsided, head clearer from the fresh air. But thoughts of Changbin cease to depart as easily, and it leaves you to wonder exactly where you stood with him.

He cared, more than an android should. For a moment it almost seemed like maybe he–

You shake the thought away, rounding the corner, shoulders immediately slumping in relief when you see the worn-out sign of the clinic.

“___?” a voice calls out to you. “Is that you?”

“Hello Jeongin,” you smile at the younger boy who bounds down the steps when he sees your figure standing outside, hair windswept and cheeks flushed as he comes to a halt next to you.

“Noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, and you feel yourself shrink underneath his sincere gaze.

“What do you mean? I always come by this time every week,” you raise an eyebrow, watching Jeongin bounce on the balls of his feet.

“But noona, you’re married now.”

You freeze at his statement, not realizing that the news had reached here too. Jeongin’s eyes are alight with excitement, and you know he’s going to ask questions that you don’t have the heart to answer.

As if he can sense your trepidation, Jeongin ushers you inside, the warm smiles of the elderly patients you’d come to know and love greeting you.

Before long, the two of you are at work, you helping them fill out their paperwork while Jeongin works to check their vitals and bring them back for the doctor to see them. All the while, you’re regaled with stories about their lives, including lost loves, mischievous grandchildren, and fond memories of a time that has since passed. 

This is why you loved coming here. It reminded you that away from the hustle of New Domino, actual life existed. Life imbued with meaningful moments, connections, and people. Something that society seemed to have forgotten. 

“You have such a beautiful smile,” one of the regulars, Miss Choi, pinches your cheek affectionately. “It’s such a shame we didn’t see it in any of your photos.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, shoulders tensing. “I guess Jeongin must have shown everyone.”

“Of course dear, you looked lovely. And such a handsome groom too!”

She titters, and you ponder about whether or not she knows the actual details of your wedding, of who Changbin really was. Even if she did, would she understand it? Even though he’d long since passed away, Miss Choi had a husband who’d loved her, who was capable of loving her. She wasn’t a victim of someone else’s greed, of their ambition. She’d never understand the kind of abyss that New Domino had become, and if she did, she’d probably be horrified. 

You pat her shoulder, hoping she can’t see the way your breath hitches, before you’re rushing to the back, curling in on yourself as sobs wrack your entire body.

Jeongin is by your side in seconds, a steady arm on your shoulder, and you lean into the younger boy, someone who despite not having spent that much time with, had become your one of your closest friends. 

“How much of it did you hear?” you mutter, looking at the floor.

“I heard enough,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry, noona.”

You don’t know how long you stay glued to Jeongin’s side, unable to stand upright, the two of you failing to notice the figure watching from outside the window. 

. . .

Changbin hadn’t meant to follow you. He’d heard you slip out in the morning, not having powered down completely last night. After what had happened at the gala, his processors had gone into overdrive, replying everything – the whispers of those awful guests, the way you leaned into his touch, to your harsh words telling him you didn’t want him around.

Changbin wonders if he’d already failed at his task – it seemed like you didn’t care for his companionship, no matter how hard he tried. The walls you had built were too high for even his sophisticated technology to penetrate, and he hums, wondering if this meant he’d be deprogrammed. 

Chan’s words from before echo in the back of his mind – what did he mean an alternative? Was there another task he could be useful for, even if you didn’t want him?

Not wanting to dwell too long, he trails a safe distance behind you, watching you break into a run, limbs heavy with fatigue, your breathing labored, until an unfamiliar neighbourhood materializes, the grandeur of luxury boutiques and high-end restaurants fading into older buildings.

Finally catching up to you, he watches you embrace a younger man, the two of you walking into a battered, broken down building together. Heat floods Changbin, his gears kicked into overdrive, struggling to make sense of what he was witnessing. Did you already have someone else? Was this Hyunjin, the one who’d left you?

The air turns crisp the longer he lingers outside the door, waiting for any sign. He gets it when he sees a leaf fall, your figure appearing in the window, hunched over like you’re in pain. The same man from before is by your side, offering you his shoulder to lean on.

Changbin doesn’t know what comes over him — he’s at the door before he can think, even rationalize what’s going on. 

He waits until your figure materializes from the back, wanting to see who the new entry was. Your lips part in a silent gasp when you see Changbin standing there.

It’s like he’s malfunctioning, gears whining and lights glinting, his jaw tense when Jeongin comes up behind you.

“Noona,” he hears the other man whisper. “I think you should go.”

You nod wordlessly, motioning for Changbin to walk with you, the two of you ignoring the many eyes that follow you, making your way down the dimly lit street.

The wind whips around him as Changbin jogs behind you, watching as you push through the crowds of passerby. You walk and walk, and he follows, watching the houses disappear behind him as you go higher and higher, eventually stopping when the road ends.

The view isn’t even comparable to the one from your penthouse – it’s even better. From the hill, he can see everything – the houses you’d passed on your way, to the bright lights of the city center, to beyond the horizon, where a mass of dense clouds covers the horizon. Which is exactly where you’re looking, and Changbin can’t help but look too, wondering what lies past their cover. 

“I used to come here with Hyunjin,” you break the silence. “Before everything fell apart.”

“We’d just sit here and look at the sky,” you continue, words crashing into each other as you rush to get them out. Changbin doesn’t know whether he should reach out for you, but decides against it, not wanting to startle your trembling figure.

“We’d look at the sky and wonder about what the future would look like — a million different scenarios. Sometimes we’d be rich, other times poor, living in the city, living out of it. But we always had each other. Until he decided to leave.”

“We should get you home–”

“Am I really that hard to love?” you blurt out, and Changbin freezes, the naked truth of why you’d been so cold finally exposed to him. 

“___, it’s not, you shouldn’t think like this–,” Changbin struggles to analyze this, something far beyond the limits of what his data sets had compiled. This was different, this grief was beyond the depths of his understanding. This yearning for something else, someone else. 

“Can you make it go away Changbin? This emptiness that lives inside me. This feeling that my life has never been mine, will never be mine?” you taunt him, knocking against his chest, scoffing when you hear the hollowness of metal.

“You can’t, can’t you? You’re just an android–”

“I’M NOT!” Changbin screams, his circuits devolving into chaos at the sharb jab of your words, Chan’s words coming back to him. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not.”

He feels sparks inside him, his words stilting as he struggles to get them out. His fingers grasp at the back of his neck, searching for the one button he knows can end this, can put him out of his misery. He doesn’t want you to see him like this.

He doesn’t even notice how close you’ve become until he feels your breath fan against his lips, like that first night.

“Prove it,” you whisper, eyes off to the side like you didn’t expect him to listen.

But he listens.

Changbin surges forward, seeking your lips, and you stumble for a brief second, thinking you’ll hurtle off the hilltop, before his arm comes up to wrap around you, your hands tangling in his hair in an instant. The wind howls around you both, yet a shiver ran down your spine, blood pounding in your ears.

His lips were softer than you’d expected, and you capture him with your teeth, drawing him in, a moan bubbling up in your chest. 

He feels so real. This felt so real. 

Changbin can hardly think either, kicked into overdrive, the feel of your hungry mouth against his, the fervent swipe of his tongue against your lips. You knew this was a bad idea, that it would complicate everything, but you didn’t have it in you to care, hands roaming everywhere, slipping  underneath the hem of Changbin’s shirt to trace circles against his hard stomach.

A strangled sound escapes Changbin’s throat, and the two of you part, flustered and trembling, Changbin resting his forehead to yours. Your fingers card through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he moves again, roving down your jawline, lapping at your skin. Despite it being freezing out, a thin trail of sweat trickles down your neck, and Changbin doesn’t miss the opportunity to taste you, teeth grazing as he goes.

“Let me show you,” he rumbles into your chest, voice raspy from the lack of air. 

The cold metal of the railing juts against your back as Changbin lunges, his arm locking you into place. Your cry of protest turns into a gasp when he nudges a knee in between your thighs, spreading them apart. 

“God, just fucking touch me already,” you seethe, gasping when he thumbs at your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, the swollen peaks stiffening when he tugs them with his fingers.

An ache begins to build between your thighs when you look into Changbin’s eyes, their laser-like focus on you and you only, and that’s when his fingers slip underneath your skirt and straight to where you need him. 

“Say please,” he whispers, and for a moment, you imagine the same desperation in his tone that colours yours.

Even when you don’t say anything, he knows from the tremble of your lips and the slight nod of your head that you want this. 

The moment he swipes his fingers against your core, Changbin curses, palm meeting the furious grinding of your hips.

Your hands ball into fists, feeling the slick leak out of you, and you whine, a warm flush settling over your body, evidence of its betrayal.  

“Pretend all you want,” Changbin hisses. “Pretend you hate me. Pretend you don’t see me. But we both know you want this.”

You try to hold your resolve, your wet cunt leaking even more, walls fluttering around his fingers. One wrong move and you’d go hurtling over the railing. But Changbin’s grip on you is like a vice, which only makes you squeeze harder around his knee. 

He changes his pace, circling faster, harder, and your head goes hazy from the stimulation, your hands grabbing fistfuls of Changbin’s shirt. When you feel yourself teetering on the brink, body flushing with anticipation, it all stops. 

Panting, you look at Changbin, his dark eyes surveying you hungrily, and you hear the clink of his belt, quivering as you try and spare yourself from being utterly wrecked by the sight of his cock.

“Look. at. me,” he grabs your chin and turns your head towards him, your eyes fluttering from the delirium of it all.

Gripping your thighs, he sinks you down onto him. You cry out as the initial pain subsides and you feel his hips snap up into you, pubic bone rolling against your clit.

“Changbin, I, shit-, it’s too much!” you plead, shamelessly rocking aginst him as he sets a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathy moans echoing bouncing from the walls.

Changbin says nothing, planting a messy kiss on your lips, prodding his tongue into the seam of your mouth to taste, and you anchor your palms against the railing, allowing him to roll his hips upward, the two of you moving in tandem.

The fire in your abdomen reaches a peak, a new wave of arousal suddenly washing over you as you feel your hips jerk, coming undone as you collapse against Changbin, stifling a groan against his throat.

Lifting you off of the railing, Changbin’s arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel something wet against the side of your face. Tears.

“Changbin–”

You wobble to your feet, head swirling with emotion, but he’s already pulling away, the faint outline of his figure the only thing you see as he heads off into the night.

Sighing, you pull your glasses down onto your face, hoping they can diguise the fact that despite your best efforts, your night was absolutely restless, swimming with thoughts of Changbin.

After leaving you on the hilltop, he’d vanished, leaving you to make your own way home. And now, not even a day later, your parents had decided to add to your headache by summoning you for a board meeting. 

You expected them to ask for updates on your relationship with Changbin, to pry into your life, pretending like they cared. It was what they’d always done.

But you never expected this.

“I–, I don’t understand,” you gnaw at your lip, biting down so hard the skin may break. In front of you, the powerpoint gleams brightly. You can read the words off the slide, but you struggle to actually process them. And what they mean.

The beta testing was successful. Although people responded rather tepidly at first to the idea of a human-android relationship, we’ve gotten more positive feedback and requests to expand than ever. We’re on the verge of a new breakthrough here at Miroh Labs. And we want you to take charge of it. 

Your father’s words have been echoing ceaslessly in the back of your mind, ever since he uttered them the moment you walked in.

The news has you deeply unsettled. You’d thought that this was some kind of social experiment, that you and Changbin were some freaks of nature, two outcasts in society brought together as a spectacle for others. You’d never anticipated it would come to this. 

Miroh Labs wasn’t just looking to change the future of human-android relationships. No your parents twisted plan took it a step further – they sought to create models beyond Changbin’s capabilities as a companion, ones who would be equipped with the ability to reproduce. 

We’d never have to worry about birth rates or a weak genetic pool again.

Looking out the window, you look out onto New Domino, the blueprints reflecting onto the screen, clashing with the holographic displays outside, a stark contrast to the storm that was brewing inside the boardroom. 

Face illuminated by the blue glow of the screens, your breath comes out in short, uneven bursts. Your mother reaches out, watching your handles tremble, but you yank them away before she can clasp them in hers,

“Don’t touch me!” you hiss. “Was this all a fucking joke to you? Playing with my life, my emotions, so you could turn me into some kind of laughingstock for whatever sick idea you had?”

Standing up, you clutch the the documents to your chest.

“I’m done,” you declare. If you’d asked seven years ago, maybe you would’ve have done it, so desparate to please everyone around you that you’d say yes to whatever came your way. But now you knew better than to trust anyone. It’d only end up in heartbreak, and you refused to be a part of this sick and twisted legacy. 

You needed to talk to Changbin. 

. . . 

The soft thud of shoes at the entryway feels louder than ever, knowing that you’ve been lying on your bed for the past eight hours, willing the tears to stop. But they never did.

Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you prod your aching limbs to get up, soreness flooding your entire body when you stand. Padding softly out into the hallway, you gasp when you see Changbin there, standing solemnly against the window.

He knows you from even the quietest sound, head turning when you come up behind him. There was so much you had to talk about, so much to address. But you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

You reach behind you to grab the papers you’d stolen,and Changbin’s eyes widen with surprise when you push them in his direction, confusion marring his handsome face. 

The two of you stand there while he reads, a multitude of moments passing in silence.

“I don’t get it,” he protests. “This seems like a logical progression. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“You don’t get it, do you Changbin?,” you declare firmly, doing your best to overcome the wobble in your voice. “This changes everything.”

You hear Changbin whir, temple lighting up with red, and for a moment, all there is to fill the silence is the sound of clicking and beeping. Was this it? Had Changbin finally reached his limits.

You’d been thinking about this for hours, about how to tell Changbin, how to break the news to him. You had no idea where you stood without, about how he felt after what’d you’d both shared at the lookout. And despite the thousands of theorized and calculated ways you’d thought of in your head, telling you that this didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t hurt him, you still choke back a sob.

“Don’t you understand? They want to change everything, to alter what it even means to be human? If an android can reproduce with a human, then what’s the point of marriage? What’s the point of falling in love? It all just becomes a stupid commodity, a race to see who can pop out babies the fastest, who can engineer the most perfect spawn. All the meaning from life as we know will be gone.”

Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment, hurt and confusion settling on his face.

“What are you saying ___? Look at me. Please.” 

The words come out in a desperate whine, Changbin lifting your face up to his, searching your eyes for a spark of emotion, but all he finds are hollow pools of emptiness.

You take a moment to respond, knowing that what you have to say will be the end of this, will probably drive a stake through the farce that had been your marriage.  

“You’ll never understand Changbin. You can simulate every single emotion and fulfill every task. Hell, even if they upgrade you and you’re somehow able to reproduce, you just won’t get it. Because you don’t know what real love is like; all you know is the substitute. And it will never be enough.”

“This isn’t fair,” Changbin chokes out, recoiling. “All I have ever done is my best. All I can ever do is my best. Why is that not enough?”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him, tears blurring your vision. “I wish it was.”

“A-are you going to deprogram me?” Changbin hums, and all of a sudden, his sensors go haywire, every single one lighting up and blinking until they devolve into chaos. Your heart lurches seeing him like this, reaching out for him, but he slaps your arm away.

“Do you know what the worst part of this is ___? It’s not you, or whatever you think you feel. Because you’ve never fucking known what you wanted. No, it’s that, for one fucking night, you had me convinced. Convinced that I was something more than just a hunk of scrap metal to you. Convinced that there was some sick, twisted part of me that actually thought you could love me.  But I don’t want you to lie to yourself anymore. I want to leave.”

You don’t say a word to him as he pads out of the kitchen, slipping his coat over his shoulders and tying his shoes. 

As he slips out the door, you hears his voice, so quiet that you’re almost not convinced it’s real.

“Forgive me.”

The moon shines on the dark streets, it’s gentle light almost swallowed by their neon glow. Changbin runs, heart pounding in sync with his frantic steps. 

Taking in a deep breath, he watches the city melt away again, the night air becoming colder, heavier with the fog of polluted smoke, until he’s there again. The hilltop. Looking out onto the city, he marvels at how it had once been a place full of so much intensity, maybe even love. He thinks back to the feeling of your lips on his, to the way you’d gasped his name. But now he feels nothing but emptiness. 

Maybe he deserved that emptiness. Maybe you were right, maybe he could never be more than what he was – an automated program. Maybe it was better that he’d never see you smile again, never get to watch you hum contentedly when you took a bite of food that you loved, that he’d never ever have the chance to even say that he loved you. Because he wanted to, not because he had to. 

“Changbin?” a voice calls out to him. “Is that you?”

Turning, he watches as the lithe figure of Chan comes into view, face furrowed in confusion at the sight of an android wandering alone on the streets. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, and Changbin feels himself shrink, embarrassment cutting deep into him like a knife.

“I had to leave,” he feels himself heat, drive replaying the memories of his last conversation with you. “I had to go, I didn’t know what else to do–”

Changbin clenches his jaw, body tense as he fears Chan’s response, wondering if the other man will laugh at his stupidity. 

Androids don’t get choices. 

Surprisingly, the look on his face is one of understanding. Chan motions for Changbin to follow him, the two of them heading out into the lonely night.

. . . 

The flickering lights of a warehouse come into view, casting long shadows on the ground. Changbin turns to Chan, body going rigid, and the lights cast an eerie glow on Chan’s face, the other half bathed in the darkness.

Stepping through the door, he’s surprised to find it more cosy than industrial, a clean, fresh scent overtaking his senses, one that reminded him of your apartment. It smelled like home. Something that Changbin was unsure he’d ever find. 

“Come sit here, Changbin,” Chan motions to a sofa. “Now do you want to tell me what you were doing roaming around at night like that?”

“You told me once that if I decided this life wasn’t what I wanted, that if I wanted to be more than an android, there was a way out. Is that still true?” Changbin’s words sound hollow to his own ears, and he watches Chan flinch in surprise.

“You’ve heard about the project.”

Chan bristles, reaching over to wrap an arm around Changbin, pulling him into a hug, and Changbin collapses against his shoulder. He was so tired.

“It’s not about the project,” Changbin mumbles into Chan’s shoulder, and Chan pushes him away gently. If he wasn’t mistaken, Chan could almost imagine Changbin’s eyes glimmering with tears. “It’s ___.”

Changbin can’t stop the words from spilling out, and he tells Chan everything. Everything from how cold you’ve been, to those little moments of warmth he’d come to live for, ones where your exterior of ice melted into something kinder, more gentle. He tells him about that night the two of you had shared, the one where your walls had come crashing down. And how he desperately wanted them to keep coming down for him every single day. He didn’t know whether or not he was capable of love, but he wanted it with you. And yet, you didn’t feel the same. You told him you couldn’t. 

Chan listens to it all, and without saying anything, stands up. Changbin looks at him despondently, wondering if he’d just made a fool of himself, but Chan motions to one of the doors, telling Changbin softly that he’ll be right back.

A few tense moments pass, and Changbin wonders if he’s been abandoned. But then Chan comes back, and he’s not alone. With him is another person, slightly shorter. His long, brown hair curls around the base of his neck, chubby cheeks wide in a huge heart-shaped smile. If Changbin didn’t see his hazel eyes, he would have also assumed that he was human, just like Chan.

Another android.

“Hello, I’m Jisung.”

Changbin’s eyes widen at Jisung in front of him, wondering what someone like him was doing here on the outskirts, where most people were too poor to own an android.

“Jisung used to be a domestic android,” Chan explains. “He worked for a family in New Domino that wasn’t very kind to him.”

“They took advantage of me,” Jisung has a far-off look in his eyes. “In many different ways. But that’s why I ran. Chan-hyung found me in a coffee-shop one day and brought me back to live with him.”

“How did you, I mean, how could you just leave like that? People need you,” Changbin is perplexed at the sight in front of him. 

“Do they really?” Jisung counters. “Think about it, Changbin, what do they need us for? To make their lives easier? So they can sit back and reject every sense of responsibility they have towards others? The system we have is so flawed, and there’s so many others out there like me and you who suffer because of it.”

Chan nods his head in agreement. 

“Why should you and Jisung have to pay the price for the mistakes of others? Why are you left questioning your identity, your own existence? You could be so much more in society than an end for other people’s satisfaction.”

“I make music now,” Jisung has a soft smile on his face. “Chan-hyung showed me how to use a production software, and now, I can go out to shops, walk around the neighbourhood, and use that inspiration for something beautiful. It’s not much, but it’s better than what I had to live for before.”

“Aren’t you scared, though? Of being deprogrammed, of being replaced?” Changbin can’t help the question from spilling out, his mind flashing back to how you had Hyunjin before him, and how easily you leaned into Jeongin, the employee at the clinic. Who was he compared to them?

“Life is so much more than living in fear, Changbin,” Jisung tells him. “If you just take a chance, maybe you can see that.”

And Changbin wants to believe him, to believe that he can leave this all behind, to start over again. But that would also mean leaving you behind, and that’s something he’s not sure he live with.

As if he can sense Changbin’s trepidation, Chan lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder again.

“You’re smarter than you think, Changbin. You’ll figure things out.”

You stare up at the ugly popcorn ceiling of the gallery. For being a space dedicated to showcasing the beauty of art, it paled in comparison to its inhabitants, cold concrete floors along with walls filled with cracks and peeling paint.

It has to be that way. Otherwise, would you even focus on the art?

The words bring a soft smile to your lips when you think of the last time you’d heard them. They ring true when you look at the painting in front of you – bold, dark colours interspersed with flecks of white. You get what the artist was trying to go for - the brightness of snow gleaming against a hillside, the snowflakes tiny pearls of brightness against the inky black backdrop of the night sky.

Lost in your study of the piece, you fail to notice the footsteps behind you, only turning when you feel a shadow loom over you.

“That one’s new,” Hyunjin says, coming to stand next to you. “Me and Yuna went to Interlaken last winter, you know I had to paint it.”

You bristle at his voice, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in your chest. You’d always imagined this, meeting him again. What you’d say, what you’d do. Somehow, your dreams always ended with him taking you back. But now, that no longer felt right. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” you breathe out, realizing how stupid it sounds. Hyunjin literally worked there.

“I heard about the wedding. Congratulations.”

“Nothing to congratulate me for.”

“___,” Hyunjin croaks, and you stiffen at your name tumbling from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

There was a lot Hyunjin had to apologize for – leaving you suddenly, ending years of a relationship in one single moment, only for him to turn around and marry your best friend months later. A friend you no longer spoke to.

But it all seemed trivial now – it seemed like the past had consumed you, your demons chasing and chasing until they’d cornered you, leaving you with nowhere to run, no one to to turn to.

You’d had Changbin, and now he was gone. And you were alone, like you were always mean to be.

Your lips purse into a straight line, giving no indication that you accept Hyunjin’s apology.

“___ please, I know I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. I know it’s unforgivable. But please, you have to move on. You deserve to be loved. To have love.”

You’re unsure how much Hyunjin knows about you, or even Changbin, but the bitter regret in the his voice tells you that you weren’t the only one with wounds who’d been festering for longer than they should’ve.

“It feels like I’m trapped,” you finally admit out loud. “I’m trapped and there’s this lead weight that’s crushing me, and I can’t think, I can’t feel, I can’t even breathe— god, I just want to breathe, Hyun. And I lost the one person that was my chance to live again.” The words come out as sobs, Hyunjin raising a concerned eyebrow, and you shake your head, dismissing his suspicions.

“You care about him. The android.”

“Don’t call him that. He has a name.” 

You bite your tongue at the grating response, mouth filling with the taste of blood. Changbin’s words from that night echo in your brain – I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.

He wasn’t. 

Hyunjin sees the heat rush to your face when you mention him, the way your entire being changes – your once despondent body coming alive with emotion. And he knows that what you felt for him will never compare to now. Fate had steered you on opposite courses, your destiny intertwined with Changbin’s, his with Yuna’s. 

“You know what you have to do then,” are his last words to you before you hear his boots tap against the cold concrete, walking away.

. . . .

The abandoned railway station lay forgotten at the edge of the city, a silent witness to years of decay. The iron tracks were tangled in weeds, and the once-bustling platform was now a graveyard of rusted metal and cracked concrete. The setting sun cast long, melancholic shadows, painting the scene in shades of orange and gray.

Changbin feels the cold metal of the bench against his back, and cards his fingers through his hair. He wonders if the disheveled strands, or the stains and threabare seams of his clothes, make him look more real. More human. 

Holding the flyer in his hands, he stares at the face on it, in disbelief that it was once his face. So composed, so put together. So much had changed since then.

Finding Jisung and Chan had been a blessing, but it wasn’t enough. The emptiness remained, filled with thoughts of you, and he wonders if he’ll ever see you again. Whether you even thought of him. 

The hum of an approaching vehicle broke the oppressive silence. Changbin’s head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw headlights cutting through the dusk. 

They’d found him. He had to run.

Miroh Labs had always been a prison – your prison. A cold, glowing fortress against the backdrop of New Domino, a place once full of so much promise. The place where you thought you’d prove yourself. But now it was time to let it go. 

Chan is waiting for you at the entrance, lips parted in surprise when he sees you approaching. You don’t blame him for thinking that you’d bail. The plan had come together in mere hours, chaos unfolding the moment you’d returned to your apartment, going through every paper, every file as to how you could set your plan in motion.

Somehow, Chan seemed like a person you could trust. You briefly remember Changbin mentioning how Chan had been the first one to see him, shocked at how many of the little details about his presence you’d actually committed to memory.

It scared you, putting your heart and life on the line like this. But it had to be worth it – for the chance to live again, to love again.

“You ready for this?” Chan asked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your mess of emotions. His eyes glinted curiously in against the backdrop of darkness. voice steady and reassuring.

You nodded, full of determination. It was now or never.

“I am. I’ll take care of the security systems. You get to the servers.”

Chan gives a quick nod, before disappearing into the building.

You freeze, realizing you should have asked Chan if he knew anything about Changbin, where he was, what he was doing. You just had to hope this worked, and that you would be able to later. That was the only way.

The maze of the building is one you slip through easily, the long, dark hallways familiar to you from years of roaming around. You knew every door, where every secret was hidden. And how to shut it all down.

Fingers dancing across the keypad, you find the one you’re looking for. Booting up the system, the lights from the screens bathe the room in an eerie glow, and you begin to type.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered to yourself, eyes darting between the screen and the shadows outside. “Almost there…”

Your phone pings to life with a text — shoulders sagging with relief when you see it’s from Chan.

At the servers. Starting data extraction now.

You shoot a reply back quickly – two mins and i’ll initiate the shutdown sequence.

The two minutes pass by in agony, heart pounding out of your chest at the feeling that you could be caught at any time, that this could end.

The lab’s lights began to flicker and dim, casting an eerie glow over the deserted corridors. It worked.

You tiptoe silently out of the room, breaking into a run when you hear the sirens. You run and you run until you’re far enough away, Chan waiting for you a few blocks away.

“We did it,” he smiles, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “We got what we needed.”

He pauses when he sees you tremble, sobs wracking your entire body. You don’t know why the tears started, but they refused to stop when you think about everything – about how you’d just destroyed your family’s entire future, about how you were free, about Changbin.

His name slips from your lips without even thinking, and Chan freezes. 

You hold your breath momentarily, waiting for the bad news to come. But all Chan does is let out a deep sigh of relief, the corners of his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Come with me.”

When Changbin wakes, it’s like the first time all over again. Senses assaulted by a bright light, fear strikes him in the worst way possible. How long had it been since he powered down? Weeks? Months? Had he been captured? Was this the end?

His systems go haywire with the possibilities, until he feels something. A breeze, ruffling his hair. He was outside. 

The abandoned train station materializes amidst the fog of his muddled senses, his fingertips coming away with rust when he brushes them against the old, dilapidated bench. Relief washes over him. He was okay. He’d live another day.

The crunching of gravel startles him from his reverie, and he feels someone plop down next to him on the bench.

Turning to meet his company, he nearly short-circuits when he sees you, face illuminated by the sun’s rays. You’re smiling. At him. 

Changbin tries to form a coherent thought, but everything is jumbled and clunky. The sun. The air. You. You. You.

You offer him something, and he pales when he sees it, an earbud extended to him.

“I need you to listen to something,” you say softly, and his hands shake as he accepts it, watching you hit play.

The first few melodious notes ring in his ears, and a shiver goes down his spine when he realizes what you’d chosen to show him.

Like a streetlight, like a streetlight

At the end of a lonely day, standing vacantly

In the middle of the lonely night, I try my best to smile brightly

It was the song he’d been working on with Jisung and Chan, the first thing he’d had of his own. The first step he’d taken to becoming himself, to becoming just Changbin. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the music, a tear slipping out at the last few notes, when he feels the weight of your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Changbin,” you sigh, voice wavering, whisper so low he can barely hear it among the reverberations of the final note.

“I want to fix this,” you say again, more resolutely this time, turning so his forehead meets yours. And you feel the dam break, tears flooding both of you as you collapse against each other.

“Wherever you’re going, I want to come with you. I want to show you that you’re more than enough. Because you showed me the same. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

Changbin nods, his tears mingling with a smile of hope. 

“The song. It’s for you. It’s for us. For what we had and what we can still have. I can prove it to you.”

“You don’t need to prove anything, Changbin. You’ve done enough.”

And he had. Somehow, despite having no heart of his own, he’d managed to re-start yours, to show you that you didn’t have to live in the city’s shadows, under the iron grip of your past. That you could be more.

Hope fills your chest – it’s bright and vivid, the force of your love for Changbin knocking you back like a supernova.

Changbin’s fingers brush away the tears on your cheek, shining in the sunlight, and his gaze drops to your lips. You don’t know who leans in first, the next thing you feel being the soft press of his lips to yours. The skin is slightly chapped, but you melt into his touch anyway.

Soon the kiss becomes heated, the roughness of Changbin’s jeans dragging against your thighs as you push yourself onto his lap, prodding the seam of his lips with your tongue. 

Here with Changbin, you realize you’d never really been weak at all. Neither of you had. Not like the world saw both of you. 

Resonance. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – the ability that you and Changbin now possessed to know whatever the world threw at you, wherever it took you next, you’d come out of it choosing each other every time.  

a/n pt. 2: they are totally fucking after this btw (i don't make the rules)! all jokes aside, I'm so sorry if this sucks. I genuinely haven't written anything plot driven in over 8 months so I know there was a lot more I could have done and improved on. If you read this, thank you for giving it (and me) a chance. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

tagging: @jellyleggz

[supercorpkid]

I Forget You Aren't Mine 3

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x Reader!, Alex Danvers, Brainy, Lex Luthor.

Word Count: 3.8k

Note: the end my dudes! Part 1 / Part 2

You blink, disoriented. The cool, crystalline air of the Fortress of Solitude stinging your eyes. Kara's face swims into focus, her expression a mix of relief and something else you can't quite place. Alex and Brainy stand slightly behind her, their faces etched with concern.

There's medical equipment around you. Needles inside you. You can hear the beeps of your heart in the background. It feels disrespectful to not remember how you end up here.

"Babe?" you ask, your voice raspy. "What happened? Where are we?"

Kara's smile is tight, forced. "You're safe, my love. Everything is going to be okay."

She doesn't answer your question and that's not usually how your wife behaves. You look around again, eyes catching someone in the back. A small dark-haired figure, watching anxiously.

“Is that your boss?” You try to get up in one motion, but Alex holds you down. Why is she here? “What am I doing at the DEO?

“You're not at the DEO, Y/N. You're at the Fortress. You're safe, we're all here.” Alex assures you and you furrow your brows.

“Safe? From what? Why wouldn't I be safe?” You ask, watching as Lena takes one careful step forward. “And why is Ms Luthor here?”

“Do you remember the servers?” Lena asks, you shake your head in denial. “Lex's plans?” You deny again. Lena’s throat bobs as she looks at Brainy, something mournful in her expression. “The failsafe. He wiped her memory.”

“Yes, I was afraid of that,” Brainy states matter-of-factly, his eyes glued to his pad, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation.

“How do you feel?” Alex asks you, you try to sit up again and she helps you up this time. 

You look around the vast, icy chamber, the strange technology, the towering crystals. It's all so unfamiliar.

“I don't know, Alex. I feel fine, but I have no idea what you guys are saying and it's so cold here,” You reach out, your fingers brushing against Kara's arm. “Can we go home? Please babe.”

Kara hesitates. It’s small—just for a second—but you catch it. Then she pulls you into a hug, arms locking around you like she’s afraid to let go. "Of course, of course my love. We can go home."

“Kara,” Alex says slowly, her tone hinting at the objection you know is coming. You can sense it—she’s not going to let you leave. “We should monitor her more closely. See what she remembers. Make her remember.”

Kara searches your eyes, and you silently plead with her not to listen to Alex. You reach for her again, tightening your arms around the woman you love, hoping to convey your fear without words.

A gentle kiss lands on your temple, but there’s a storm of emotions in her gaze—concern mixed with determination, and maybe a hint of fear. You can feel the weight of the moment, the tension thick between you all.

“Not now. We're going home.” Kara’s voice is firm, and you exhale, relief flooding through you.

As Kara makes her decision, Lena’s gaze remains locked on you, her expression unreadable. There’s a flicker in her eyes—perhaps disappointment, or maybe understanding—but you can’t quite tell. You don’t know her well, and you still can’t grasp why she’s here with your family, as if she belongs.

Alex, however, can’t hold back. “Kara, are you serious? This is insane! We don’t know what Lex did to her. We need to run tests, assess the damage—”

“Alex, that’s enough,” Kara snaps, her tone leaving no room for argument. “She wants to go home, and we’re respecting that. Just focus on Lena’s encrypted channels for now.”

Alex complies, slowly removing the medical equipment and needles from your body. Lena glances at Kara, and you catch a hint of a silent conversation between them—one that Kara seems to ignore, her jaw tightening with determination.

As Kara leads you toward the exit, Lena steps forward, her voice quiet but steady. “Kara, maybe just a brief scan... to ensure there are no lingering neural anomalies.”

Kara stops, her back to Lena. “No, Ms. Luthor. This has gone too far. My wife and I are going home.”

The journey back to National City is silent. Kara's hand rests on your thigh, but her touch is light, almost tentative. 

She tries to act normal—makes dinner, puts on your favorite movie, curls up beside you on the couch. But the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension.

As you sit there, watching the movie, you feel a sense of unease. You look at Kara, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the screen. She's beautiful, undeniably so. But there's a sadness in her eyes, a quiet desperation that makes your heart ache.

"Hey," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "Are you okay?"

She turns to you, her eyes searching yours. "I'm fine, honey." she says, her voice strained. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You push forward, crawling into her lap, lacing your legs around her waist. Her hands find the small of your back automatically. Not your dimples, though.

“You're not fine.” You say it with a certainty that comes from years of knowing her. Your fingers knead softly at the nape of her neck, trying to ease some of the tightness. She shudders, her eyes glistening. “I’m sorry this happened. I’ll do everything I can to remember, but right now, just… tell me what you need.”

"No, no,” Kara swallows hard. “It's not your fault.” 

She pulls you closer, kissing the tear that is threatening to spill from your eye. Her shoulders finally easing up a little. “It was mine. I should never have agreed on putting you in danger. I promise that won't happen again. Everything is good now.”

You melt into her lap, resting your head against her shoulder as her fingers tangle gently in your hair. The moment feels perfect—like a scene from a movie, or maybe a—a TV show…

Your brows knit together. Something shifts, an odd tug in your chest, like a thread being pulled loose from a fabric you didn’t realize was unraveling. And beg yourself to believe in her words, everything is good. Please. Everything has to be good! Kara must feel it, too, because she stills, her fingers pausing mid-motion.

“You okay, baby?” she whispers against your temple.

You want to say yes. You want to say no. But neither answer feels honest.

So instead, you murmur, “Take me to bed. Maybe your mouth can find other ways to prove that everything is good now.”

You wake to hushed voices in the kitchen, their tones low and urgent. Your eyelids feel heavy, but the fragmented conversation outside your bedroom door pulls you upright.

The moment you step out, four pairs of eyes snap toward you.

Brainy, looking as detached as ever, still typing even if he is not looking at the keyboard at all; Alex, concern tightening the corners of her mouth, eyes soft as if she is looking at a child; Kara, her expression flickers between worry and something softer, something aching; And then there’s Lena—her eyes tell a whole story—one you don’t remember but somehow feel. There’s something restrained in the way she looks at you, like she’s trying to school her expression into neutrality but can’t quite keep the edges from fraying. A flicker of guilt, maybe, or regret. Or something even heavier, something close to longing.

You clear your throat, suddenly self-conscious. Their silence stretches, filling the room with something unspoken.

“Oh, um—” Your eyes drop to your clothes: Kara’s old university t-shirt draping over your frame, paired with barely-there pajama shorts. Not exactly appropriate attire in front of your wife’s boss. You shift on your feet. “Sorry, Ms. Luthor, I didn’t realize you were here. I'll change.” You turn towards the bedroom, but you still murmur, “Honey, a word?”

Kara follows you into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. “You hungry? I flew to Dublin for your favorite breakfast.” She tries.

“What the hell is your boss doing here this early in the morning? What's up with all the hushed meetings and you all looking at me like I'm missing a limb or something?”

Kara exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Why don’t you change and come join us, huh? We’ll tell you everything.”

Something about the way she says it makes your stomach twist. Like she doesn't want to say it. Too careful. Too rehearsed. As if she lost the argument against them. You glance back at the closed door, where the others are waiting. Where Lena is waiting, with that look in her eyes you still can’t place.

Tell you everything—like it’s some big revelation, like it’s something you should already know. Something you used to know.

You swallow. Nod. “Okay.”

God, amnesia is so cliché. Though, this isn’t the kind you usually hear about. There’s more to it—more than just forgetting. It’s reality twisting at the seams, shifting under your feet. A life rewritten, memories rearranged like pieces of a puzzle forced into the wrong places.

While you sit there, taking in every single one of their words, the flood hits all at once. Like a dam breaking, like drowning in something too big to hold. Tears spill before you can stop them, hot and unrelenting. A searing pain lances through your temples, a brutal counterpoint to the rush of images and emotions. 

Lena's eyes, burning with an intensity that made you feel seen to your very core, yet holding a quiet understanding that calmed your deepest fears. Kara's smile, a radiant warmth that chased away any shadow, filling you with a sense of pure joy. 

The memories slam into you, a chaotic whirlwind, each one a sharp, vivid shard of a life you had no idea you've lost. 

Passionate nights, breathless laughter, the feeling of Lena's arms wrapped tightly around you in the dark, her hands on the dimples of your back. The wedding, the apartment, Kara loving you loudly in the night, her hands on the dimples of your back.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos in your mind. You gasp, your breath hitching, the air thick and heavy in your lungs. 

Lex's face, his voice, the chilling realization of the manipulation. The truth, the lies, the tangled mess of it all.

Lena moves before she can even process it, her touch impossibly gentle as she wipes the tears away. Alex sucks in a breath. Kara’s eyes darken, burning a hole into the back of Lena’s head. But you—

You’re stuck. Trapped in the avalanche of knowing.

This reality. The old one. You and Lena. You and Kara. The servers. Lex. The choices you made—the ones taken from you.

Your old life.

This life.

Which one is real? Which one is realest?

“Babe, are you okay?” Kara kneels in front of you, worried when she sees your eyes widening back into focus.

Lena is right next to her, mirroring the same worry, but you can’t think about that right now. You can’t think about any of that. Not yet.

“I know how to win.” You swallow back the flood of memories, the words you want to say, the feelings clawing at your throat. “I know how we can defeat Lex.”

You hesitate and everyone stops still, looking at you with intense concern and screaming urgency.

“What?” Kara reaches for your hand, her voice a tangled mess of emotions. “How?”

“Lena’s old encrypted channels. Do we have access to them?” You push to your feet, ignoring the way the two women kneeling at your feet flinch at your abruptness. You can’t focus on that. If you stop now, if you let yourself feel all of it, you won’t move at all. You won't win.

“Yes, but we can’t override his servers with them,” Brainy says.

“Because you’re doing it wrong.” You snap your fingers, already moving. “Lena, remember Non Nocere?” You don’t wait for her to respond. “You needed Myriad, or it wouldn’t work. That’s what’s missing.”

“Myriad?” Someone asks. It doesn’t matter who.

“No, memories.” You spin toward Alex. “People need to remember. Small things. They need to be brought back—” Your gaze locks onto her. “Do you remember Kelly?”

There’s a flicker of recognition at the name, but Alex’s eyes are still empty.

“You're engaged. She calls you love, she is a trauma psychologist. You two are going to adopt. A little girl named…”

“Esmé.” The word leaves Alex’s lips, and for a split second, her entire expression softens. The cold detachment cracks, and something like wonder flickers across her face.

You smile, turning next.

“Brainy! You remember Nia? Her superhero name is Dreamer, and you two have been together for months. She told you she loved you while watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows—which was super anticlimactic, but for some reason, you loved it.”

“Nia Nal.” Brainy’s voice is quiet, but certain.

Your smile widens.

“We need to make people remember. As many as we can. Once they disconnect from Lex’s neural programming, it’ll weaken it. Then we use Lena’s channel to override it.”

Silence stretches around you. Everyone is staring. Wide-eyed. Mouths slightly open.

“What are you all waiting for?” You exhale sharply. “We don’t have much time. If he realizes what’s happening, he’ll use the failsafes. We need to talk to as many people as we can and help them remember.” Your gaze snaps to Kara. “Find J’onn. Make Superman remember. We’ll need them.”

As the others scatter, Lena lingers. Her eyes meet yours, something unspoken crackling between you. You nod at her, then she’s gone, swift and purposeful. Simple as that.

Everyone has already left, but Kara’s hand finds yours, holding you back. “What about me?” Her voice is quieter now. “You didn’t say anything to help me remember.”

You blink at her. The answer is simple. Too simple.

“Because you don’t need it, do you?”

Kara’s breath shudders. Her eyes shine, dangerously close to tears.

“You had your memories all along.”

“I— I can explain.”

“Not now. We’re running out of time. We can talk when this is over. When we win.”

You win. The idea works. Once you have enough people disconnecting from the tangled neural connecting server, Brainy can override it and then—

The city erupts in a cacophony of confused shouts and relieved cries. Memories flood back, faces lighting up with recognition and dawning horror. The disorientation is palpable—a collective awakening from a nightmare. Lex's carefully constructed reality crumbles, revealing the raw, unvarnished truth beneath.

Superheroes, with their memories restored, move with purpose. Superman, Supergirl, the Martians, Dreamer, and the others converge on Lex’s heavily fortified command center. The battle is swift, decisive—a reclamation of truth. Stripped of his control, Lex falls, his reign of manipulation undone.

People spill into the streets, clinging to loved ones, piecing together the fragments of stolen time. The weight of what was done to them lingers, heavy and suffocating, but beneath it—relief. A breath, shaky but real.

And yet, as the world awakens, you stand frozen in the middle of your apartment. No—Kara’s apartment. Hers all along, yours only for borrowed time.

The soft whoosh pulls you from your thoughts. Kara lands with practiced ease, her suit vanishing in a blur of motion, replaced by the familiar comfort of her real clothes. She steps closer, hesitant, her fingers twitching at her sides before finally reaching for your hand.

“It’s over,” she murmurs, voice fragile as glass. “He’s gone.”

You don’t look at her. Your gaze is locked on a picture stuck to the fridge, its edges curling slightly with time. You and Kara, arms slung around each other, smiles so wide they’ve forced your eyes shut. A captured moment of happiness—from your honeymoon. From a wedding that never truly happened.

"It’s over," you echo, but the words taste different in your mouth.

You turn back to her, and for the first time, you really look. The relief in her face is painted with something heavier—fear, hope, something desperate and pleading. Like this is the fight she is most scared of.

“Did you have them all along?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of the question settles between you like an unspoken truth. You don’t need to clarify; Kara knows exactly what you mean. “Did you have them there?”

She follows your gaze to the picture, shoulders tensing before they drop in surrender. “No,” she whispers. “No. I—I remembered everything when Lena came in for the first time with the datapad.”

The breath leaves your lungs in a slow, aching burn. “You knew it was a lie and you still wanted to keep it,” you realize, the words unraveling faster now. “You didn’t want to work with her. You didn’t—” A sharp inhale. The truth clicks into place with a sickening finality. “You didn’t want me around her because you knew it was true. You knew I’d remember.”

Kara swallows hard. “I didn’t have you in the original reality.” Her voice wavers, thick with emotion. “And then—Rao, baby, how could I just let you go when you were so right for me?”

Your chest tightens, an unbearable pressure curling around your ribs. “The memories—they were fabricated, Kara.”

“But not the feelings. The feelings are real.” She steps closer, the unguarded vulnerability in her eyes something you’ve seen so many times before. “I love you. I’d marry you right now. For the first time, the second time, it doesn’t matter. I'd marry you in a heartbeat. I love you in any reality.”

Her voice cracks on the last words, and it hurts, seeing her like this—open and afraid and so, so genuine. Tears gather along her lashes, threatening to spill. “I know I was wrong, I know, but I—I didn’t want to lose you.”

Your throat tightens, a raw ache settling deep in your chest, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. And then, softly—unforgivingly— 

“I wasn’t yours to lose.”

Kara flinches like the words have struck her, her breath hitching, her hands trembling at her sides. And then she shakes her head, a silent plea spilling from her lips before she can stop it.

“No, no, please. Y/N, please.” Her voice cracks, her fingers reaching for you like she could hold you here, tether you to the reality she’s so desperate to keep. “What we lived was real too.”

You exhale, slow and measured, and step closer. Not to bridge the distance, not to pull her into the embrace she is so clearly aching for, but to lift a hand—gentle—and brush away the tears slipping down her cheeks. The touch is careful, lingering, but there’s no promise in it. No reassurance.

"Tell me, Kara," you murmur, voice quiet but firm, "should love be about holding on tightly, or about letting go and trusting that the other person will choose you?"

Her breath stutters, and for the first time, the fight drains from her expression, leaving only bare, unguarded heartbreak in its wake. The silence stretches between you, heavy, trembling on the edge of something irreparable.

You swallow against the ache in your throat and lift a hand to cup her face, your thumb ghosting over the tear-streaked skin of her cheek. She leans into the touch instinctively, eyes fluttering shut like she could will this moment into something softer, something salvageable.

"I'm sorry, honey." Your voice is gentle, but there’s no room for hesitation. "I know you love me. I know."

You press a kiss to her jaw, slow and aching, your lips trailing just enough to feel the way her breath shudders against you.

"But you’ve prioritized your own happiness over my autonomy," you whisper, the words landing between you like a quiet devastation. "And even though I know you, even though I love you—" Your voice falters, but only for a moment. "I can't move past that."

Kara’s lips part, her hands twitch like she wants to hold onto you, but she doesn't. Maybe she knows this is the moment she should let go.

You lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss—soft, lingering, final.

And then you step back.

"Bye, babe."

You knock on her door, and it’s barely a beat before it swings open. Lena stands before you, backlit by the soft glow of her always-pristine penthouse, the hum of music spilling into the threshold. You recognize the song instantly, and it makes you smile—of course, of course she’s playing this one.

“Lena.”

Her name leaves your lips like a prayer, reverent and yours. And the way her eyes shine when she hears it—like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered—nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

“May I have this dance?”

Lena doesn’t hesitate. She yanks you inside with startling strength, the door forgotten, the world outside ceasing to exist. Your bodies collide—flesh against flesh, heat against heat. Her hands slide down your back with a certainty that makes your knees weak, fingers finding the dimples of your lower spine and pressing firmly, like she owns them. Like she missed them.

“You’re back.” Her voice is thick, weighted with too much—relief, disbelief, something heartbreakingly close to devotion. You don’t even need to look into her eyes to feel it spilling over, raw and overwhelming.

“I sure am, darling.”

And then your lips crash into hers.

Lena exhales a shuddering breath against your mouth, but you don’t let her pull away, don’t let her second-guess this for even a second. Your fingers thread through the silky strands of her hair, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss, to claim it. She tastes like wine and something sweeter, something hers, something you could drown in if you let yourself.

Her hands clutch at you, roaming desperately like she’s afraid you might disappear if she doesn’t hold on tightly enough. And you let her, let her have you, because God, there's no such thing as real reality, but there is such a thing as real person. And she is the realest.

The kiss turns greedy, all tongue and teeth and need, a battle of desperation and relief. Lena makes a sound, something caught between a sigh and a whimper, and it nearly undoes you.

She presses forward until your back meets the doorframe, your bodies flush, no space left between you. You can feel her heartbeat against your ribs, hammering just as wildly as yours, and it fuels something deep and unrelenting inside you. She doesn't just kiss you—she devours you, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the way her lips mold against yours, into the way her hands roam, relearning every inch of you.

When she finally pulls back, just enough to breathe, you chase her lips not ready to let go yet. Her eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded and dark with something unmistakable, something that's always been yours.

“You taste like coming home.”

Lena smiles, a slow, confident curve of her lips. “That’s why I always knew you’d come back to me.”

And then you kiss her again, because you can, because she lets you, because nothing else in the world matters anymore, and because this—this is what winning feels like.

[zaczenemiji]

Could I request a Kenji x Reader where the reader is an Ailen who is very much stranded on Earth and on The run from the KDF who wants access to their tech

Among the Stars I

Kenji Sato x Alien!Reader

Word Count: 1,766

Genre/Warning: Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: To me, reader is an alien in the sense that she is a foreigner to this planet; how she looks is up to you. Takes place after Emi. AND I THINK AOSHIMA DESERVES RECOGNITION LIKE 🫢 AIN’T HE HOT TOO?????

MASTERLIST

The stars twinkled in the dark expanse of space as you navigated through the cosmos. This wasn’t the first time you traversed through the void. In fact, you were a professional at this.

Being one of the respected astrophysicists of your planet, you have always been one sent on space voyages. Your mission was simple, something you were good at, so what could possibly go wrong?

At least that’s what you thought a few moments ago.

"Engine malfunction detected. Immediate landing required.”

As if the flashing red lights and blaring alarms weren’t enough, the onboard AI wouldn’t shut up either, all of them adding up to the panic in your already pounding heart.

“Engine failure. Emergency landing procedure initiated.”

Your struggle to regain control was hopeless. Assessing your options, Earth was the nearest habitable planet. With no time to spare, you steered the spacecraft towards the blue planet.

The descent was turbulent, flames licking at the hull as the spacecraft entered Earth's atmosphere. You gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain the little control you had left.

Scanning the residential area that stretched beneath, you spotted a forested area and made a split-second decision. With expert precision, your maneuver slowed down the descent just enough to avoid a catastrophic impact.

The spacecraft touched down with a jolt, skidding through the underbrush before coming to a stop. Smoke billowed from the damaged engines and you knew you needed to secure the craft first.

Despite the damage, the emergency propulsion system still had enough power for short-distance travel. With steady hands, you activated the system again, guiding the spacecraft toward a nearby body of water.

The craft hovered momentarily above with a soft hum. Carefully pushing the controls, you maneuvered it into a controlled descent where it submerged beneath the water, disappearing from view.

In the control room of the Kaiju Defense Force, monitors flickered with data streams from satellite scans displaying Japan’s airspace and terrestrial activity.

"Report," Aoshima commanded.

"Sir, we've detected a significant impact in sector 7G. Satellite images indicate a disturbance in the forested area, consistent with an object of considerable mass landing."

Aoshima scrutinized the images, noting the telltale signs of a recent crash landing, “Any signs of the object itself?"

"Negative visual confirmation, sir. The object appears to have made impact and then moved into concealment."

"Prepare a recon team," Aoshima ordered crisply. "I want a full scan of the area. Notify all units in the vicinity to be on alert."

Aoshima contemplated the implications. For years, KDF had struggled against the relentless onslaught of kaiju attacks under Dr. Onda. His last will was for the survival of KDF.

Aoshima shared Dr. Onda’s vision and if this alien technology held the key to turning the tide in humanity's favor, they couldn't afford to hesitate.

Meanwhile, having just emerged from the submerged spacecraft, you cautiously explored the area. Your advanced sensors warned you of Earth's surveillance systems, but you had hoped to remain undetected.

Your hope, however, was short-lived as the sound of whirring and a shadow passing overhead alerted you to the arrival of drones. Quickly, you dashed into the forest, heart pounding as you navigated the unfamiliar terrain.

Above you, the drones buzzed in pursuit, their sensors tracking your every move. Their operators relayed your position to ground units, who quickly mobilized to intercept.

You emerged onto the outskirts of a bustling city. Buildings towered overhead and streets were crowded with unsuspecting pedestrians. You had to blend in to evade capture.

Tokyo has always been bustling with a sea of people moving with purpose. Among them was Kenji and today, his life would take a turn he could never have predicted.

He was jogging through a quieter part of the city when suddenly, a force collided with him, nearly knocking him off balance. Looking down, he saw a woman his age, face partially obscured by a hooded cloak.

You looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you gasped, glancing over your shoulder. "I... I need to go."

Before Kenji could respond, you tried to bolt, but he gently grabbed your arm. "Hey, what's going on?” He asked, genuinely concerned. “You look terrified."

You hesitated, clearly torn between fear and the need for help. Before you could decide, KDF agents appeared at the end of the street.

“Surrender peacefully, and we won't harm you," one of them demanded sternly.

"No," you replied, a slight determination in your trembling voice.

Kenji’s instincts flared. To him, KDF has been nothing but trouble. So without a word, he pulled you behind him, putting himself between you and the agents.

They slowed, eyes narrowing at Kenji. "This is official business," the leader said, his voice cold. "Step aside."

Kenji ignored the command, gripping your hand tighter. "Run," he whispered urgently, before leading you in a sprint away from KDF.

The two of you took off with Kenji guiding you through a series of narrow alleyways and bustling streets.

"Over here," he whispered, pulling you into a side street. You dodged through a market, running between stalls and startled shoppers. The KDF was temporarily delayed by the crowd, buying you precious seconds.

Kenji's heart pounded, both from the exertion and the adrenaline. "Keep your hood up," he urged you. "We can't let them see your face."

You continued running, the sound of pursuit growing fainter. Kenji led you through a maze of side streets, finally emerging onto a quieter residential road.

"Almost there," he panted, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Finally, you reached a house guarded by a big gate on the outskirts of the city. Kenji quickly unlocked the gate and ushered you towards the house.

Inside, Kenji guided you to the living room, where you sank onto the couch, hood falling back and revealing your face.

“Mina, emergency analysis,” he said as a spherical robot hovered towards you, red light scanning your body.

"Scan complete," Mina announced. "Subject is experiencing elevated stress levels and minor physical exhaustion. No immediate threats and no tracking devices detected.”

"Thank you," you said, voice filled with gratitude and lingering fear.

Kenji nodded, breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, her gaze lingering on him with a mix of surprise and curiosity, “I didn't expect anyone to help."

"I'm Kenji," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

You hesitated briefly before shaking his hand, "I'm (y/n)."

"You can catch your breath here,” Kenji said, standing up. “I'll get us some water." He returned with two glasses of water; you accepted one gratefully.

"Why were those guys after you?" Kenji asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm not from Earth. I'm…” you hesitated but you owed him an explanation and also to save you from the trouble of pretending. “…an alien."

"An alien?” He blinked in surprise. “But you look human."

"Alien in the sense that I'm from a distant planet," you explained softly. "I crash-landed here not long ago.”

You told him everything—your mission, how you ended up being chased by what he referred to as the Kaiju Defense Force, and your spacecraft.

“I would like to ask another favor if it’s not too much,” you said with hesitation; Kenji helping you escape and sheltering you was already more than enough. “I need you to help me find Ultraman.”

You knew about Ultraman and his origin. You’ve been sent to Nebula M78 a couple of times already. If there’s someone who could help you get back to your planet, it’s him.

“Ultraman?” Kenji's eyes widened. “Why?"

“I know of him,” you said. "He might be the only one who can help me.”

Kenji took a deep breath, realizing he couldn't keep his secret any longer. "Well, there’s something you should know,” he said.

“What is it?” You asked, confused.

He looked straight into your eyes, his face set with resolve, “I'm Ultraman."

The room fell silent. "You're...” your eyes widened. “Ultraman?"

Kenji nodded, “Yes, and I’m not supposed to tell anyone but if helping you means revealing it, then so be it."

Your eyes teared up with joy. Just when you thought that this day was full of bad luck, here came your silver lining—a stunning man one at that.

Kenji asked you about the whereabouts of your spacecraft so he, in his Ultraman form, can bring it here in no time. His house had a basement submerged underwater which provided an easy way to bring it over.

His dad, the previous Ultra, happened to live with him. Kenji explained the situation and his dad, an expert in this field, generously offered to help.

Hayao circled the craft, examining it closely. "Impressive design," he muttered, running his hands over the hull. "But clearly, it's been through a lot."

"I think it’s the power core," you explained. "It was heavily depleted during the crash, and I can't get the ship operational again."

"I see. A power core like this...” Hayao nodded thoughtfully. “…it's incredibly advanced. Recharging it with Earth's technology would be almost impossible."

"So, there's no way to fix it?" You looked at him, worried and on the brink of tears.

"Not exactly,” he smiled reassuringly. “While we can't recharge it with conventional means, there might be another way. We need an alternative energy source—something with immense power."

"What about the energy that powers Ultraman?” Kenji stepped forward. “Could it work?"

Hayao considered this, nodding slowly. "It's possible,” he said. “Ultraman's energy is vast and unique. We might be able to transfer some of it to the power core."

Your eyes lit up with hope, “Do you think it could really work?" Hayao placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "It's worth a try.”

He explained that he would first need to create an energy transfer device. But with the resources here on Earth, it’s a trial and error to see which would be compatible with your spacecraft. Needless to say, it would take a lot longer before you could go back home.

Kenji led you down a hallway to a cozy guest room. He opened the door, revealing a spacious room with a bed, a dresser, and a big window overlooking the bay.

“You can stay here until we figure everything out,” Kenji said. “It's safer than being out there with the KDF looking for you."

"Are you sure?” You looked up at him. “I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden,” he smiled reassuringly. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

With that, you settled into the room with a sense of peace for the first time since crashing on Earth.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @skyeliteratures @themourningfox @despacito-uwu16 @crimson-mage-02 @vinegarjello @btszn @berryjuicyy @https-mika @reader-1290 @bakugouswaif

[genderqueerdykes]

I am a trans man who abandoned my previous account because i needed to leave the community.

The trauma and self hatred runs so deep that despite it being months i still can't think of my masculinity as anything other than wrong. Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.

At least now I can see i deserve better. But it's hard knowing that my love and support was so summarily rejected by the transfems on this site.

i'm really sorry you've had to go through this, anon. you shouldn't have to do that

the thing is people don't realize that while this online fighting is pointless, it does hurt people. and it can cause genuine trauma because it IS abuse. abuse doesn't have to occur in person to be legitimate. a lot of acts of abuse and violence can be committed remotely with modern technology. basically anywhere people can interact, abuse can happen. this is actually hurting and scarring people in real ways and we need to acknowledge this

Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.

the fucked up thing is i feel the exact same way. i interact with community on here in order to educate but outside of this, i currently do not interact with the queer community. once im off this blog, i'm not really interacting with queer community, i will talk to my queer friends and engage in my own queerness, but i am not thinking about the community for the vast majority of my day. i'm not interested in trying to casually go to a trans space and be misgendered all the time.

i immersed myself in my local punk community last year and all that happened to me was that i got a lot of hollow compliments, condescended to, talked over, fetishized, treated as a sex object, descriminated against, had people stop respecting me the instant they found out i was a trans man, had people try to tranny chase me for being a trans man with a vagina, got called too whiny and emotional, got accused of hating trans women because i'm a transmasc lesbian, got mocked for not having a penis, watched my roommate treat me with annoyance that wasn't there prior, felt alienated in my own home, and just in general felt ashamed that i wasn't an amab trans woman, because those were the only trans people who hung out there for any substantial amount of time

the transmascs and trans men never hung around for too long. the majority of the trans punks who showed up were transfem. like. almost all of them. it was rare to find another transmasc, and i can work a crowd, i don't feel scared or uncomfortable in crowds, so i will talk to just about anyone who acknowledges my presence. i met so many transfem punks that i've lost count, and about 3 or 4 transmascs. it frustrated me and took a while for me to realize why. that place was deeply transandrophobic. the regulars did not treat transmascs with kindness. i was actually sexually assaulted by one of the transfems there multiple times, and had another that was trying to come on to me because i have to do stretches for my lower back or else it locks up, and she saw this as an invitation for sex. my ex gf started treating me completely differently the second she discovered i didn't have a penis, to the point of actually progressing to yelling at me for being too whiny and emotional. the cis gay men that were there would talk about how breasts and vaginas were gross because they were gay men right next to me.

after leaving that community i feel so much better. i'm basically on my own, i don't mind it, that's how i like to live my life as a schizophrenic person, but outside of the way i interact with the community as someone who participates in education and activism, i don't really interact with queer communities. i'm tired of being harassed, targeted, insulted, misgendered, sexualized, and getting sexually assaulted.

this is the really sad truth right now. transmascs and trans men in particular usually live outside of queer communities. we are so alienated. that's the entire reason people think we don't exist. it's because so many people will not let us exist inside of queer spaces, so we have to live elsewhere. so many trans men end up having to have mostly cishet friends to avoid drama and harassment. it's not that we don't exist- it's that a lot of people just will not let us take up space in queer communities long enough for people to see how many of us there are. there are a lot of us, but we aren't being allowed to exist inside of queer spaces, so people trick themselves into thinking we're not real trans people

you do deserve better. i hope in time the trans community learns to treat trans men better. you don't deserve to have to alienate yourself like that, but that's just how things are right now. take care of yourself. you're important even if people don't want you to feel like you are.