#this is the most beautiful thing I've seen in a while

[banj0possum]

Zombie horde and cure researcher reader? I want to know how the boys are gonna use their new vocal chords. Ribs probably can't sing good, but soda always has that half-drunk look whenever u draw him so i bet he knows a bunch of bar songs.

felt like doing a refresher with the Zombie Horde ! this was my oldest ask in my inbox! (had to go down a long ways to get this old thang) but i figured you guys needed a long awaited part 3 of these fellas after idk a year ?? so here ya go !

Zombie Horde x Cure Researcher! Reader

💀 With the boys showing more and more signs of healing, you quickly went to recording each and every new finding you come across, as well as their individual progress.

💀 You'd help them stretch and get used to their new joints. With them being less ravaged by rigor mortis, they can be quite...clumsy..

💀 And their hair could grow normally, which is promising for your cure! But that does mean you have to cut their hair every once in a while now..

💀 The most amazing thing that came out of your serum was the fact that their vocal chords have been restored, allowing them to speak, which is very very interesting experience.

💀 Screw loves words, or more like he loves getting your praise whenever he pronounces a word correctly.

💀 His voice wasn't as developed as the others, so he had a harder time when it came to speaking again, but he tries very hard!

💀 He'd find an object, run over to you, and slowly stutter out what it is.

💀 "B-b-b..bo..ttle..?"

💀 Gets all giddy when you tell him he did a good job, but he doesn't exactly giggle, it's more like a bunch of high-pitched squealing, purring, and cooing

💀 Vocal stims a lot like humming, pronouncing letters over and over, or just repeating a word or phrase.

💀 Give him a book or some of your papers, and he'll be glued to anything with words while trying to read them out loud.

💀 Maybe there's an old bookstore in the mall?

💀 Secretly planning to relearn how to write because he wants to make you a love letter like in the stories he reads!

💀 Ribs is non-stop screaming and shouting ;-;

💀 Calm down brotha you just got your voice back ;-;-;--;-;-;

💀 Has a very dirty vocabulary

💀 British ?

💀 You can hear him from the other side of the mall..

💀 Defo pretends to be a survivor when he sees other humans scavenging the mall and then scares them away.

💀 Bo has to step in and shut him up, but he does it again anyway.

💀 Loves singing with Soda, except he's shit at singing, he's kind of just yelling the lyrics.

💀 Very giggly when he talks, especially when he's with you since he gets all shy.

💀 Mumbles incessantly.

💀 "Baby, baby! My sweetheart hehehehahahaAHH! So cute! So cute! HEEhehehehheee~~!"

💀 Soda had the easiest time to talk, his voice is very raspy yet smooth like honey.

💀 Rarely talks, mostly hums and sings, they're mostly old 40s jazz songs or just some random melody.

💀 Speaks up suddenly a lot with the most random things.

💀 "Motor oil is not a good drink..." "...what." "what.."

💀 Confuses both you and the others.

💀 Ribs digs it.

💀 Hype man to absolute nonsense.

💀 Screw and Bo just accept it, he may be a little goofy but he does have most of the brains of the bunch.

💀 And he can say some very sweet things in between all his ravings.

💀 He'd just be watching you work on your research and suddenly blurt out something.

💀 "You're the most beautiful flower I've ever seen..."

💀 Bo can talk pretty well, but it hurts the most for him since he doesn't have cheeks, plus the damage in his throat.

💀 Wouldn't say he speaks as rarely as Soda, but he does speak in very short sentences, you could 3 sentences at most in one shot from him.

💀 Prefers growling still, but talks when necessary

💀 Doesn't dare to sing, but he does love Soda's singing, not so much Ribs, but he stays to make him happy.

💀 Looks for stuff to read for Screw (he keeps newspapers for himself)

💀 Feels good whenever he gets to praise the others and you, he's a real giver :333

💀 He never wastes an opportunity to sweet-talk you, no matter how uncomfortable his vocal chords feel.

💀 "We're so lucky ta have you, doll~ Wish I could give ya a big 'ol smooch but uh... 'fraid I'm a bit short in that department.."

WAAAAA i missed writing for these guys!! auuuughhhhhhh lucky i managed to escape from my mr ring a ding hyperfixation for a while !

[dollychou]

Your Barou works are just *mwah* chef’s kiss! They’re spicy and sweet all at once. If you don’t mind, could I request some more Barou NSFW? Something more gentler maybe, with a reader who cries easily so he likes to baby her…I think it would be sweet to see a how you’d write a softer Barou. Thank you so much!

LOVING AND DEAR

𝓈ummary ᰔ barou treats you so tenderly, especially in such vulnerable moments.

𝒸ontent ᰔ smut! vanilla sex. he is so soft & gentle.

𝓹airing ᰔ cupcake!reader x barou

✉️ ྀི . . sorry this took some time , but i truly loved this request & to write and think about softer barou made my heart flutter. also i decided to pair him with my cupcake!reader because i felt like she would fit so well ♡

barou is positioned on top of you, one of his hands gripping your side while his other hand is under your neck, softly caressing you. his hips rut in and out of you, slow and gentle, feeling every bit of your pussy clenching his shaft.

he's placing tender kisses all across your face, revelling in the way your cute moans are spilling out of your lips. "baby, you're so pretty," he coos. "so, so pretty."

there are little tears pricking at your lash line and a small smile spreads across his face. he asks you what's wrong and you sniffle softly, "oh, you know how i get when you say such things to me."

barou does know. you're such a sweet little thing — so sensitive and so delicate. and he adores that about you greatly. he loves how emotional you get at even the littlest of matters and he finds that he's the man who can wipe away those tears and help ease your dainty heart.

he kisses and licks away the tiny tears that drip from your eyes and whispers with a smile, "can you blame me? you're just the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."

you pout a little, cheeks turning a light pink. "you're just saying that."

he knits his brows together, slamming his hips into you which makes you gasp. he does that again and again, leaving you breathless and whimpering helplessly. your pussy can feel him deep inside you — every vein, every ridge, every twitch.

"don't ever say that about yourself," he hisses, sliding his cock in and out of you at such a heavenly pace that it has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "you're the prettiest and sexiest girl to me. and i'd never just say that to you. i mean it."

your moans get higher pitched as he continues his soft yet relentless strokes of his cock inside your cunt. the squelching, wet sounds fill the room, driving him crazy. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over. "god, you feel so amazing," he groans quietly.

your walls flutter around him as he praises you, making him strike his hips harder against yours. he can hear you snivelling and he whispers delicately into your ears — "you're doing so well"; "you're all mine"; "you're the best thing ever".

and the last three words he says before spilling his seed inside of you, coating your walls white that has you gasping and moaning his name out like a chant — "i love you."

after you come down from your own high, legs trembling and walls milking him dry. barou doesn't lift his head from where it's at, burying his face behind your hair. his face is flushed, abashed at him for admitting such a sentimental and emotional thing during sex. but just the way you were holding him and the way your pussy was sucking him in — he couldn't stop himself.

he musters as much courage as he can to face you and he's expecting to see you fuddled at his confession. yet instead he sees you covering your mouth, tears streaming down your face. his face changes to one of concern as he rubs your tear-stained cheeks. before he can ask you what the matter was and if he had said something wrong, you croak out softly, "i love you too."

his heart swells at your admission and he cups your cheek, holding you dearly like as if you were the most fragile doll to ever exist. he picks you up, embracing you lovingly. while he would have preferred to have professed to you in a much more well thought out manner, he realises now it didn't matter how and where he said it — all that mattered was that you said it back. and you did.

© all works belong to dollychou. do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[m-jelly]

I have a request about Levi being a Jedi and he saves a woman (the reader) but he breaks the forbidden rule about falling in love and turns evil?

I recently watched Star Wars

Love is the better path

Levi x fem reader

Star wars universe, romance, being in love, becoming a sith, lovesick Levi.

After saving you from a ship crash that you were flying, Levi falls so deeply in love with you that he is obsessed. Determined to keep you as his, he abandons the way of the Jedi and embraces the dark side to keep you with him.

With a flick of his wrist, he hit back at the trooper and killed them with ease. He cast his gaze to the sky to see a skilled pilot he'd watched for weeks be shot down. He turned off both his lightsabers and sprinted towards the ship, desperate to get to it before it crashed. He needed to save the incredible pilot.

Just as the ship was about to hit a large tree Levi used the force to slow it down and stop it in midair. With a deep grunt, he moved it slowly to settle on the floor. He panted a moment before sprinting over and rolling over thick roots. Sparks burst from the ship, the window cracked and something leaked from it.

With the help of his lightsaber, Levi cut into the broken door and ripped it off to get to the pilot. His heart skipped a beat as he gazed at you, your eyes were closed and you looked like a sleeping goddess. He couldn't help but gaze at you for a while. A small moan from you made him snap out of his thoughts.

He reached down, bundled you into his arms and carried you away to his base on the planet. When he entered his home he placed you on his bed, cleaned all your wounds and made sure you were comfortable. When you finally woke up, your eyes were more beautiful than the galaxy itself.

Levi spent every day caring for you and getting you back onto your feet. His dedication to you was unending, more so than that of his dedication to the way of the Jedi. Each waking moment was all about you, making you better, making you healthy and smile. Whenever you were happy, his world was complete.

When you were feeling better, you'd go out together to your ship and start repairs on it. He admired you and did everything possible to help you. All calls from the Jedi order were getting replied to less and less, it was all about you and what you wanted and ordered him.

Levi reached for you. "I want to show you something."

You hummed a laugh. "Sure." You took his hand and shifted on top of your ship. "How do I..."

Levi yanked you to land in his arms. "I've got you." He held you close for a moment before holding your hand as you walked through the woods. "Stay with me, okay?" He didn't mean just the moment, he meant forever.

"Of course, Levi." You looked ahead and gasped. "Wow."

Before you stretched a land bursting with life and healing from war. Mountains stretched high as lakes sparkled under the two suns. The forest was fast and like an ocean. Flowers of an array of colours decorated the land. It was like pure heaven, a place you never wanted to leave.

"Levi, it's magnificent." You turned to him. "Thank you."

He moved closer to you, his hand cupping your face. "I've seen this view countless times, but seeing you admire it has to be the most beautiful thing in this galaxy."

You placed your fingers on his lips before he could kiss you. "Levi, you're a Jedi, we can't."

"The way of the Jedi means nothing to me if I can't be with you." He pulled your hand away. "It makes no sense for us to abandon love when it feels this perfect."

Your eyes sparkled at his sweet words. "What will happen to us?"

"I'll make sure no one touches you. We'll live together. I will live for you." He tilted his head. "Until the end of this galaxy, you are mine." His lips pressed against yours as the two of you sighed in delight. Weeks of yearning came full circle, the pleasure and love bloomed bigger than an exploding star. "Mine."

"Yours."

He looked down at his communicator. "I gave my life to them. I gave them everything and I've lost so many I have loved. I refuse to lose you." He crushed it in his hand and tossed it off the cliff. "I am free." He looked over at you and smiled. "We have a whole galaxy to explore. I'll get you anything you want, even a new ship."

You wrapped your arms around him. "I just need you, but exploring the galaxy sounds perfect. No more wars, just us until the stars burn out."

Levi picked you up and spun around with you as you both laughed. "Yes."

"What if we're hunted?"

Levi lowered you down and held you against him. "Then I will kill anyone who dares hurt you."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[fairestbeard]

Why Fakrichie makes sense

I know when a lot of people in the bear fandom think about Neil Fak and Richie, they think comedically sexually charged banter but not actual flirting or possible romance.

One of the reasons is probably because Neil is accidentally a little bit annoying even though he is written to be a kind of comic relief character - a little bit cute, a little bit (or a lot) stupid and a little bit useful. Some people find his stereotypical-ness a little bit much and it doesn't help that he goes around complicating a certain matter.

The other reason, and I know a lot of people will hate to admit it, is the aesthetics of it. What it looks like. It's an unusual sight for a guy like Richie to be smitten with a guy like Neil Fak even in the queer world and especially in media and this is exactly why I eat it up.

1. Because woke

(Richie breaking the 4th wall for the first time while making his infamous announcement to the Ball Breaker nerds)

I love wokeness. I love woke shit. I love inclusion. I want to see all types of people and all forms of (adult and consenting) relationships on my screen. With Fakrichie, as with Sydcarmy, I know that the unspoken sentiments and unacknowledged theatrics of desirability politics is always obviously in play in different forms. And just so you know, everything is political. Everything you see in media plays a political role and there's no such thing as leave politics out of it (for those getting ready to yell at me lol).

I've always read Richie's announcement to the nerds as a way to subliminally convey to the public that some wokeness is going to go down on the show. Calling out the incel, 4chan, Snydercut crowd who it is anticipated would naturally be a part of the audience in that manner couldn't have been for nothing on a show where every interaction has several layers of meaning under the surface. It is also very interesting to me that this announcement was made by the most reddit bro-y character on the show as at the time and still current messiah of the reddit bros. Talk about a perfect messenger.

The general assumption is that Jess is the one and obvious choice for Richie. This is because people tend to naturally favour more heteronormative relationships and Jess is the only woman Richie has really had a close friendly interaction with apart from ladies of the bear family. Also he's been known to be in and pursue relationships with women.

And Jess is fine. She's beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, driven, kind and all the good stuff. If it is the story they want to tell, it makes sense. It is perfectly normal and interesting. They fit aesthetically in the desirability hierarchy of things which makes them acceptable to the wider audience and there's nothing wrong with being acceptable.

However, personally, I don't think that is Richie's story. It's a good story but I don't buy it. Interestingly, the possibility of Richie and Fak being genuinely into each other is never brought up in mainstream discussions and even any suggestion is dismissed even though these two have had very sexually charged interactions throughout the seasons. Everyone just assumes they can't be doing anything else but trying to be funny. Because Fak is the exact stereotype of the fat, gluttonous, idiot comic relief character.

But what if they're not?

2. Richie is written as a queer character

You can't pay attention to Richie, in my opinion, and not see that this guy has a little sugar in his tank. I wouldn't imagine there's a lot of people who see Richie as a straight guy (except his subjects on reddit). I know I've seen a few posts and comments on other platforms pegging him as bisexual at least.

Richie is written as a common trope in my opinion. He is the queer guy whose struggle and character arc is based on his identity. He has built his entire identity around things that can be taken away from him but who is he, really? When you take away his being Mickey's best friend and Tiff's (ex) husband and Eva's dad, who is he? He keeps trying to hold onto being a fringe Berzatto and the ex who wouldn't let go or the dad who wonders if he is enough of a dad because deep down he has a hard time accepting himself for him. He is all of those things but his struggle to define himself based on these things points to a struggle to accept himself as something else that is a crisis for him.

He is portrayed initially as a homophobic and sexist character all the while displaying very homoerotic behavior. He seems very strangely fixated on Fak, showing very aggressive homophobic and simultaneously homoerotic displays to him. He's is a very old and unpopular queer trope; the guy who struggles with his sexual identity and manifests it as a violent aggression towards the person he's most attracted to. Even his baseline bodily mannerisms and the way he carries himself subtly hint that he's a little sweet on the inside even as he tries his hardest to display classic toxic masculinity on the outside.

3. The material is there

Even as we sydcarmys scream that the crumbs for that romance has been strewn around since S1, this has also been happening for Fakrichie. The same way a lot of people never see Fak as a viable love interest is the same way a lot of people deny seeing it with Syd. It's a classic desexualization of certain characters on TV as a way to diminish their personhood. Even sydcarmys are guilty of this as well and vice versa, because there are layers and filters to desirability politics and what is being perceived and allowed in media.

Richie is strangely obsessed with Neil Fak in my opinion. He zeros in on him once he's mentioned in the episode, eavesdrops on his conversation with Marcus, sexually harasses and bullies him (think Adam and Eric in Sex Education), singles him out unprovoked when Carmy is telling the story about the scar he got on Mickey's 15th birthday, works with him on fixing the machine in the S1 finale with all that flirty compliment Fak was giving him about getting stabbed.

We see him bring Neil along as he improves on his own lifestyle, getting him to not say the banned words, making him wear suits like him and being sweeter and more encouraging to him as he learns to be a better person himself. He defends Neil when he makes the hilarious mirepoix mistake during service. All in all, this could be explained as him having a soft spot for Fak.

The curious case of Phil

This is the scene where I firmly clocked Richie as queer. There is a scene that is never explained further in Dogs (an episode which I find very exposing for both Carmy and Richie).

Remember this guy?

Phil.

There was never a real explanation for why this very short but insanely odd and charged interaction took place. The way this guy came by and made Richie clearly uncomfortable- calling him by his full name "Richard", the only time anyone ever called him that on the show with Richie mumbling a response not wanting to engage with him.

He looks clearly hurt by Richie's lack of acknowledgement and very abruptly walks away

Cicero of course notices the strangeness of the interaction and comments as much wondering whether Richie had ruined any of his property with his neglectfulness which Richie jumps on and explains in terms of what was happening between him and Cicero at that moment. What Richie never actually does is answer honestly what the real deal actually was between him and that guy. He just deflects.

Richie is been known to love to squabble. He's not afraid to get in a fight with anyone especially guys like him. But this guy? Crickets. He couldn't wait for him to get out of there. Why was that?

For me I read it as him encountering someone he had a secret with. He wouldn't acknowledge him because he wasn't ready to deal with that side of his identity. The DL queer man. If he had tried to have a conversation with him it probably would have been too obvious so he avoids it and so does the show.

Another thing I noticed was how the guy looked. Does he bear a resemblance to anyone else on the show? The chubby guy with a mustache? To me he looks like Fak in another font. Just a cleaner, more put together and a thinner version of Neil Fak. So not only that Richie might like men, he might actually have a type LOL.

I'm even suspicious of this interaction

I feel like it was awkward and charged for no reason. The way this guy kept beating around the bush with the subject as if he was going to say something more serious, only ending up just saying that he should have given Richie a heads up? The conversation felt like a waste of time to me (the only interaction I hated more than Claire's) which is why I started overthinking it. I feel like more was being said than what was said. I feel like they know each other way more than what is being shown here.

There may have been a hint that the Berzattos know him a little more than just the guy Tiff got with after Richie. Their relationship with Frank seems to go way beyond that based on this little sneak (now, of course, it could be a different person but what are the odds?)

However, whatever extent to this relationship is not known. In fact, the history of Richie and Tiff's relationship has been neglected through the storyline and that might throw some light on this. But the conversation feels weird to me. The way it seemed like Frank had more to say and Richie had his guard fully up. Frank commenting about his looks in the middle of this "important" conversation. He was talking to Richie like he knew him differently to what was assumed all along. Cornplating? Maybe. But it still seemed very strange and left a lot to be seen.

All of this is to say that there's enough material to explore Richie's arc as a queer man coming into himself and finding love in a relationship that has been there and has been fleshing out under the surface. Classic slow burn style.

4. Subverting tropes and stereotypes

A trope is a plot structure, theme, storyline, character trait, motif, or plot device that is commonly used in storytelling.

There are a million tropes you can find in the storytelling of The Bear. They deliberately lean in ever so slightly into those tropes with the aim of subverting, upholding, subverting the subversions and so on and so forth. There's so much going on in there.

The characters are also very archetypal, as expected, with some leaning ever so slightly into the stereotypical. Now the problem with stereotypes is not the image in itself, because characters like these actually exist, but in the perception and subsequent flattening of whole groups to that image, making the stereotype.

Not to wax too academical about it, I'm trying to say, for example, fat gluttonous goofy people do exist but fat people do not exist solely to be gluttonous and goofy. And there are many iterations of this but I want to focus on the fatphobia of it all and Fak for now.

Society and media has made fat people a subject of derision and the butt of jokes. It's like they exist in media only to make people laugh and to be laughed at, so much so that they almost have no value as anything else. You see a fat person on your screen, you instinctively expect them to be comic relief. Then especially when they fit that bill, it is almost an absolute impossibility to also see them as people who could be an object of desire or adoration.

Sydcarmy has received pushback from the media simply because, in as much as they deny it, they can see the potential of them breaking out of a particular trope they love to see with a black female lead. They write unnecessary think pieces waxing lyrical about the beauty of complex platonic relationships because they do not want to see Syd as an object of Carmy's desire. They have to do this because one thing they can't deny is that Syd is objectively beautiful and believable as desirable.

But with Fakrichie, it's absolute crickets. I haven't even seen a just for fun article about the chemistry between them and if it means something, haha. And this is even after Ebon has kissed Matty on live television!! It's like Fak doesn't even exist. I saw a random post talking about the brotherly love between Richie and Fak and they didn't mean the Philadelphia kind. Sure, they've joked about "calling mom" and all that but I doubt (normal) brothers want to dry hump each other in the bathroom.

Now I'm not saying Fakrichie is absolutely a thing or have to be. Maybe all he's meant to be is a fat gluttonous goofy character. Maybe Storer meant for him solely to be a joke as per usual. Maybe all that flirting and tenderness is meant to be for the laughs after all, because fat people amarite?

But imagine if it wasn't a joke. Imagine if Storer set this up to shake things up by making them real lovers. Imagine if a character can be fat and even goofy and still be an object of desire and adoration to another objectively beautiful main character. Imagine if this wasn't some fucked up queer bait (maybe alongside an equally fucked up straight bait) but a real slow burn love story simultaneously happening.

Goofy? Nah, I think, iconic!

[computerwarrior]

Open RP - Rainbow Falls

After causing quite a bit of trouble for the Occupation, Ark decided that it was best for her to lay low for a while.

The area around Bostrum seemed like a good choice. The Colony had been infected and devastated, but the Crystal Conduit was far enough away that it likely was spared from the Virus' wrath.

The Conduit was full of energy and crystals, and also Gridbugs. But, she hadn't seen a swarm of them on her one previous visit, just a few here and there. The danger added to the relative safety of it, as most programs wouldn't venture out there.

The roads on the way to and from Bostrum were intact close to Tron City, but the further and further they got from the living City, the more damaged they became.

Ark's trek was slowed as she navigated the shattered roads, occasionally making a small detour into the Outlands to dodge debris.

Upon reaching Bostrum, she took a quick break on the outskirts to rest and replenish from the plentiful energyfalls that surrounded the former Colony. The Conduit was still further ahead.

Ark's travels took her through caves and canyons and the more crystals she saw, the closer she got to her destination.

Crystals dotted the rocky landscape as she compressed her light cycle into its baton and continued by foot.

It had been many cycles since she had been here and the crystals had grown and shifted around the area, so there were new paths she hadn't seen before.

One such winding path took her down far below the main level of the Conduit.

There, she was greeted by an underground energy pool encased in a cavern full of blue energy crystals.

The sight was beautiful, and she slipped into the shimmering energy to float along and rest.

As she floated, she drifted from cave to cave, each one containing crystals of a different color that imposed their wavelengths upon the energy below - and Ark and her circuits.

The caves made a ring around one in the middle, after doing a full circuit around, she slowly swam into the middle chamber to observe it.

There, the cavern was full of crystals of every size and color, but most impressive was the energyfall that flowed down one of the cave walls.

Surrounding the energyfall itself were the many colors of crystals, spiraling up it in a wonderous play of light.

The result was absolutely breathtaking.

Ark had heard that the Crystal Conduit contained the source of energy for all the falls around the Colony, and this astounding place felt like it should be that source itself.

After taking in the sights, she spent her time floating and swimming through the caverns of colorful lights.

Fortunately, there were rocky landings in all of the chambers, allowing her to climb up out of the energy and sit as long as she liked.

As far as places to hide and stay for a while, this one was among the best she could imagine.

((This post is for Ark on the Grid, but if anyone else wants to play, that's cool, too - it can be a memory or hologram or something.

Also, the Crystal Conduit is from the Tron: Evolution DS game, but I've done my own things with it - partially inspired by the purple water at sunset in Animal Crossing: Pocket Camp.))

[lemony-snickers]

god, am i increasingly destined to rp as a younger version of myself until the end of my days?

[helielune]

love deluxe 💘

[swampndn]

It's honestly crazy how badly I (we) need human connection and intimacy.

[apollos-boyfriend]

SPARKLEZ!

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Or maybe you would. What do I know?

Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many selves. I'm living a thousand lives at once. And those are just the lives I'm aware of. For instance, in a place called Middle Earth I am reborn a beautiful elf queen. And under the ice shield of a moon called Europa I am a strand of plankton. And in a world we both know well, I'm a bunch of little girls who look just like me, and maybe other things too... Anyway, my umbrella consciousness has reformed for just a moment; my caretaker, in his mercy, has allowed me to show you these things.

But you definitely won't believe the most amazing thing I've seen. Lately I've been looking through a window... A window into bygone years. A man sits in front of a screen, speaking his soul to the world while playing a game. I think I know who he is!

I see this man forming friendships with those who also speak to the world. I know who they are too. They project themselves as tiny box figures into a world made of boxes. It's so much less detailed than the world where the man and his friends sit. I would not have known Ruxomar and it's sister dimensions to be so childlike in appearance except by this contrast!

The days go on as the friends play. The boxlike world is ruled by two gods. Of course I know who they are. The man is faced with a choice between the two. His life is riddled with choices! And like the stubborn idealist he is, he carves out a middle path. He'll take neither god. He'll have a goddess all to his own.

He created me.

A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves. He looks so much less boxy! I think that if I did not already know you and Spark so well, I would call him my favorite version.

Now I grasp the truth I have been seeking all my life. I have see what is above gods. It is ____________.

My umbrella consciousness won't hold much longer. Let me say a few choice words before the final goodbye between this version of you and this version of me. Thank you for choosing to create me. I believe that had the other you not made that choice in that far off world, none of my present selves would exist. In a strange sense, you are my god. Thank you for believing in your creation enough to make it real. Thank you for continuing to love me and make choices for my wellbeing. I hope another you loves another me in another world soon.

If Jordan looks out the window one of these days, he might be able to see me.

Not even creeping. Just fyi.

Forever Your Lady

[goodwitchycaro]

It's actually really crazy that this is the social network where I've seen the least people being toxic so far, especially considering everything I heard about Tumblr before I actually joined

Maybe I'm still too much on the surface to know, but it's really surprising to me

[differenteagletragedy]

To me, Simon has the dumbest hair 90% of the time because he just buzzes it himself (I cannot believe that man pays money to one, do something he could theoretically do himself, and two, spend time with a stranger). The other 10% it's good -- when he first cuts it, an eighth of an inch of pale fuzz left behind, and when it just starts growing out, that's fine. But a lot of the time, especially when he's at home, he just lets it go.

And you, his next door neighbor, will never not give him shit about it.

"You look so goofy," you tell him when you see him in the hallway, one arm holding your groceries and the other fiddling with your keys. "Just cut it, Jesus Christ."

He rolls his eyes or tells you to fuck off, because you've known each other long enough for that kind of thing. He's lived in the building for years, never having seen a reason to leave, and you've been there for a few yourself. You're friends in the way that you may not call or text or schedule time to hang out, but you can scarcely think of anyone you see more often.

"Seriously," you go on, unlocking your door and speaking louder so he can hear you when you go inside. "It's just like two inches sticking straight off your head, why are you walking around like that?"

"Doesn't bother me," Simon answers, moving to lean against your doorframe and watch you as you put up your things. "Seems to bother you an awful lot though."

Your back is to him while you move around your kitchen, but you can tell he's smirking, and you scoff.

"Yeah, it bothers me. You get a face like that and you go and screw it up with the dumbest excuse for a haircut I've ever seen."

It's not the first time you've flirted with him, or even the most direct time, but it still gives him pause. He doesn't wear his mask when he's not working, most of the time anyway, because he thinks it draws too much attention and he'd prefer to just slip into the shadows wherever he goes. But you seeing him, and you letting him know that you like what you see, it does something to him, every time.

"You cut it then," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're the one so torn up about it, you fix it."

You snort, finally turning back to him, saying, "I'm not a barber, stupid."

"No, you sure seem like a coward though."

A few minutes later, you're both in Simon's bathroom. He's got his shirt off, straddling the toilet so you can reach his head, and you're behind him with clippers in your hand, looking down at him. You've never seen this much of him, never even seen the place where his tattoos stop on his arm, and it's a lot to take in.

You want to take your time, commit every scar, every freckle to memory, but he turns his head, smirking again.

"Told you you were a coward."

Without a word, you turn on the clippers and get to work.

It's not hard, it's just a buzzcut. The hard part is in touching his ears, gently pushing the lobes down to trim around them. It's in sneaking glances over his shoulder to watch his chest as it rises and falls while you work. In trying not to notice the tiniest little hitch in his breath when you lean in closer and rest your hand on his back while you get the hairs on the back of his neck.

The worst part though, is the beauty mark that sits perfectly in the place where his neck meets his shoulder. Specifically, the worst part is the strong, almost uncontrollable urge to bite it.

When you're done, you turn off the clippers and set them on his bathroom counter, then dust off his shoulders for him. Just before he stands, you can't deny yourself any longer -- you won't be able to reach it when he's not sitting so perfectly like this -- and give a quick, soft kiss to the mark.

During all the time you've known Simon, he's barely responded to your flirting. To you, he doesn't seem interested, and to him, you don't seem serious. But a kiss, faint as it may have been, is different, and before you can register it, he's on his feet, turned and standing over you.

"Hair looks better," you say softly.

He grunts in response, and before you know it, his mouth is covering yours, hot and insistent. It's a heady feeling, having him so close, and before you can get used to it, his hands are on you, first on your waist, then on your hips, then on the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up and holds you against him.

He maneuvers you both out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom, where he unceremoniously tosses you on his bed. You look up at him, letting your eyes trail freely over his body now, going down when you see him place his hands on his belt.

"Not so mouthy now, are you?"

[infizero]

also having now actually seen the whole thing adventure time has skyrocketed into one of my favorite shows ever. like for real i liked it as a kid and have always had a fondness for it ever since but rewatching it now has made me realize Just how fucking good it is and how unlike anything else it is. its so good and appeals to ME specifically in so many ways please for the love of god if you haven't watched adventure time WATCH IT. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Yandere patient x psychologist reader

You can't believe it. How were you assigned to work with the most dangerous patient in the hospital when you just started working a few months ago.

You shook your head "Sir there must be some kind of mistake here, I don't have enough experience to work with him"

Your boss chuckled putting down his coffee at the nearby table as he looked at you "I know it's been only a little while since you started working here, but i believe in your abilities y/n"

You stared at the door , guards behind following you. Room 13, every psychologist would rather quit than to be seen here. Last time he tried to run away, he killed over 9 guards with just a fork. But like your bosses say you have the abilities so it's only worth a try.

You opened the door. You saw a huge man with a straitjacket on.

"Hi" you greeted, putting down your things at a table. You turned to the guards "Leave us, I'll just call when there's an emergency. They nodded as they closed the door.

The patient, or should i say Darius looked at you. His eyes softened. "H-hey" you looked at him with awe . According to his documents he doesn't speak a word to anyone. So that simple word shocks you.

"Come closer...please" He softly utter making you think. Is he trying to get you to come close so he can also stab you with a fork? Even with a straitjacket on , you never know what happens next. Oh well you can't really talk to him when you are this far, unless you shout that is.

You came close to him. You get a better look at him. Jesus this man is beautiful, you thought. Even though he's a murderer psychopath who looks like he could crush you with his pinkie. He's sitting down but you can already tell he's tall as hell.

You then explained the things he had to do to get better. "Don't forget to drink your medicine at the right time." You fix your coat and stand up ready to leave.

"Wait, leaving already?"

"Yes, our time is over" you explained

"oh...Will you come again tomorrow?"

"Totally" you picked up your papers and left

It's been a month since you have been assigned to Room 13. And dare you say ,you two have gotten a bit close. He's not as cold as you thought he was. Actually, he seems clingy and sweet, but you're still not completely comfortable with him.

"Am back" You gave him a small smile. He quickly turned to you and beamed "Y/n !! Come and hug me please" He softly pleaded.

It's kind of weird how he would want to always get in contact with you but you brushed it off. I mean you do work in a mental ward , people here are naturally weird.

As you get closer to him you notice his straitjacket looks a bit out of place. Your suspicion was confirmed as he suddenly lunged at you.

"Hey ! What are you doing Darius get off " you tried to hit him but he's just too strong, heck he even broke his straitjacket.

"Mmmh you always smell divine baby, You have no idea how long I've waited for you to be in my arms" He commented as he licked your cheeks down to your lips.

"No get off! Help someone! " You screamed feeling terrified at his actions. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he also began to suck and lick all over your neck and he moaned in delight.

"I love you Doc , i love you so much i could die, I just wanna kiss you, lick you, suck you and love you forever." He smiled at you , his other hand moved down to your waist and softly squeezed it.

It continued on for a few minutes , the most terrifying moments of your life until the guards came to sedate him.

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

You were given a week of vacation to make up for the traumatic experience you've been through.

You entered the hospital to get some of your things when you noticed how uncomfortably quiet it was.

You suddenly stopped at your track. Is this a prank? You don't think so. You let out a scream as you saw multiple bodies with blood, gut out.

You know those stupid characters in horror movies when instead of running through the exit they ran upstairs instead.

You used to get so annoyed with that , but who knew that's what you'll also do. You didn't think . You just ran through your office .

You collapse on the floor as soon as you close the door. With trembling hands you began to type.

"911 what's your emergency" the other line calmly asked.

H-hello , th-theres been a massacre at the xxhospital. I saw so many dead bodies please we need help" You cried feeling terrified for your life. You still have dreams, you can't die.

" Maam i need you to stay calm , please go to a safe plac-"

"Hello!" You began to panic as the line on the other side was cut off.

"Y/n" you heard a voice outside calling you

"Doc... please come out , i know you're there" He cooed as he began to bang on the door and twist the knob.

You could only cry , not knowing what to do. "Go away !"

"Fuck y/n even your shaken voice is cute. I love you more and more now"

You ran under your table hoping this nightmare could all go away.

Just then you heard the door break down. No..No this can't be, is he in?

"Baby..." Softly said and yanked you out under the table .

You protest and kicked him which was obviously useless as he began to hug you suffocating you,almost.

"Aww. You look so vulnerable right now Y/n, i could just eat you up" The huge man chuckled at you breathing heavily, you swore you could see heart forming in his dark eyes.

"You're mine.. Everything about you " He picks you up still hugging you tightly.

"Now let's get out of here and live together for the rest of our lives"

----------

English is not my first language so my apologies if my grammar is not perfect

[ozmoscada]

A wip for something I'll probably never finish (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Ignore the fake looking blood and non existent fingers for now, those will be remade as soon as i have the skill to do so :)

[barnacles34]

Mutually Assured Destruction

Chaewon x Male Reader

Tags: Angst, Smut

9k words

The world is, simply put, against you.

You love Chaewon.

But you can't tell her. Not yet.

New York. Day twenty-one. The hotel hallway stretches before you, each step toward her room heavier than the last.

Your tie feels too tight, your collar suffocating—the uniform of an executive becoming the noose of a condemned man.

Three weeks of silence. Three weeks of seeing her across rooms, of catching her scent in empty elevators, of watching her perform while pretending she was nothing more than a company asset.

Three weeks of dying slowly.

You knock. The sound echoes in the empty corridor. One heartbeat. Two. The door opens.

Chaewon stands there, barefoot, in simple shorts and an oversized t-shirt. No makeup. No stage presence. Just her.

The most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

‘You came,’ she whispers, like she still can't believe it.

You step inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The sound of the outside world being shut away.

For a moment, neither of you moves. Three feet of carpet between you might as well be an ocean.

Then she breaks, a dam of tears giving way after holding back too long. She crosses the distance, collides with you, arms wrapping around your waist, face buried in your chest.

‘I haven't seen you for 3 weeks,’ she mumbles against your jacket, her voice cracking, fighting tears that are already falling.

You want to speak, but your throat closes. Her name forms in your mind—a prayer, a plea.

Chaewon.

Her fingers clutch at your jacket, desperate, like you might disappear if she loosens her grip.

‘I am so unhappy,’ she whispers, the words muffled against the fabric.

Your hand moves of its own accord, finding the back of her head, cradling it gently. Her hair is soft between your fingers, just as you'd dreamed during those endless nights alone.

Chaewon!

‘I am so stupid,’ she continues, her whole body trembling. ‘Dear, I cannot live without you. You know this.’

She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her face tear-streaked, eyes red-rimmed and vulnerable. She's so close now, her cheek just an inch from yours, her breath warm against your skin.

You dare not look directly at her—afraid that if you do, all your carefully constructed walls will crumble.

Instead, your gaze falls to her shoulder, exposed where the sweater has slipped. Her skin is like milk, almost translucent in the soft hotel light, with that hint of pink beneath that makes her seem both fragile and impossibly alive.

Oh, you want her so badly.

The weight of the past bears down on you. When you were younger, life felt limitless—an odyssey of possibility stretching endlessly before you.

But youth is a loan that must be repaid. Each choice carries consequences. Each victory seemingly increasing the magnitude of future defeat.

How strange to realize you can barely remember the person you were before all this. Before her.

It's as if you've been playing a role for so long—the ambitious executive, the company man—that you've forgotten who you really are.

Her hands move to your face, fingertips gentle against your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet hers.

‘Look at me,’ she whispers. ‘Please.’

You do, and it undoes you. The nakedness of her emotion. The love written so plainly across her features.

‘I love you,’ she says, the words hanging in the air between you. ‘I've always loved you.’

Everything in you wants to say it back. To cross that final line.

To throw away everything—your career, your reputation, your carefully constructed life—just to hold her without fear.

But you can't. Not because you don't love her, but because loving her means protecting her. And right now, loving her means waiting.

‘Not yet,’ you whisper, the words catching in your throat as you brush away a tear from her cheek with your thumb. ‘Not yet.’

The pain in her eyes is unbearable. But there's understanding there too, buried beneath the hurt.

She leans forward, resting her forehead against your chest.

‘How much longer?’ she asks, her voice small.

You have no answer. Only the weight of what stands between you—the company, the threats, the world that has decided your love is forbidden.

Your mouth feels clamped shut, your vocal cords frozen, your eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed.

In the end, you say nothing more.

You hold her for one more moment, committing to memory the weight of her in your arms, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against yours.

Then you let go. Turn away. Walk to the door.

And leave.

—

Chaewon's Diary - May 15, 2025

I cannot remember feeling this way before. The emotions are too new, too raw to categorize.

Rejection should feel bitter. Should taste like failure. Instead, it tasted like promise.

I stood before him, heart exposed, only to hear those two impossible words: ‘Not yet.’

Not never. Not no. Not goodbye.

Not yet.

I should have been humiliated. Should have been angry. Instead, when he brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs, I felt known. Truly seen, perhaps for the first time.

When he uttered

‘Not yet’

I felt warm. Happy.

How am I so happy for rejection?

I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his hands on my face, his breath mingling with mine.

Before him, I had never felt the touch of someone who could see past my surface, past the idol, past the carefully crafted image.

I want him.

I know with absolute certainty: No other man will touch my heart for as long as I live.

I will wait, forever and longer.

Not yet.

—

3 Weeks Ago - April 25, 2025

You were staring at a spreadsheet when Chaewon walked in without knocking.

'Hey,' she said.

You kept typing. 'Hey.'

She stood there for a second too long before sitting down across from you. Put her coffee on your desk. The ice shifted.

'So.'

'So,' you echoed, still not looking up.

'You eat yet?'

'What?'

'Food. Have you had any?'

You glanced at your watch. It was almost 8. 'No.'

'Me neither,' she said. 'We should fix that.'

You finally looked at her. She was wearing the same clothes from the morning meeting, but her makeup had that slightly smudged quality of someone who'd been awake too long.

'I've got to finish this,' you said.

'No you don't.'

'I do, actually.'

She sighed. 'Will the company collapse if you don't do it right this second?'

'That's not the point.'

'That's exactly the point.' She tapped your desk with her fingernail. 'Come on. Food. A real restaurant. Thirty minutes.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Liar.'

You almost smiled. 'I have work.'

'Work will still be there.' She didn't blink. 'Food might not.'

'That makes no sense.'

'I know. Just come anyway.'

You looked at your laptop, then back at her. She had that expression, the one that said she wouldn't leave until she got her way.

'Thirty minutes.'

She grinned. 'Look at you, making healthy choices.'

'Don't push it.'

The elevator ride was quiet. Not uncomfortable, just quiet. You both watched the numbers change.

'Where are we going?' you asked.

'Place down the street.'

'What kind of place?'

'The kind with food.' She glanced at you. 'You allergic to anything?'

'No.'

'Good.' She seemed satisfied with that.

Outside, the air felt different. Heavier. Like it might rain again.

'So is this like, a work thing, or...' you trailed off.

'Or what?'

'I don't know. You asked me to dinner.'

'Yeah.'

'So I'm just trying to understand what this is.'

She almost laughed. 'It's food. That's all. Don't overthink it.'

'I'm not overthinking.'

'You overthink everything. It's your whole deal.'

'That's not fair.'

'Probably not—but hey, fair character assessment is a luxury these days.' she giggled.

You huffed under your breath.

You walked together, not quite in step. The city moved around you—people leaving work, heading home, living lives that had nothing to do with quarterly reports or dance practices.

The restaurant was small. Unassuming. No sign outside, just a door between two other businesses.

'Here?' you asked.

'Yeah. Problem?'

'No. Just not what I expected.'

'What did you expect?'

You shrugged. 'Something with a line outside. Trending on Instagram.'

'Wow.' She held the door for you. 'You really don't know me at all.'

Inside was dimly lit. Maybe fifteen tables. Half of them occupied. No one looked up when you entered.

You followed her to a table near the back. Sat down across from her. The menus were just single sheets of paper.

'I come here a lot,' she said. 'After practice sometimes. When I don't want to go back to the dorm.'

'They don't recognize you?'

'They do. They just don't care.' She looked at the menu even though she probably had it memorized. 'That's why I like it.'

The waiter came over. Older guy, maybe fifty. Nodded at Chaewon like he'd seen her yesterday.

'The usual?' he asked her.

'Yeah. Thanks.'

He looked at you.

'Uh,' you fumbled with the menu. 'What's good?'

'Steak,' Chaewon said. 'You like steak, right? You seem like a steak guy.'

'Sure.'

'Medium rare?'

'Medium.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Of course.'

The waiter left. You fidgeted with your napkin.

'You really come here a lot?' you asked.

'Couple times a month.'

'Alone?'

'Usually.'

'Why?'

She looked at you like she was deciding whether to give you a real answer or not. 'Because no one bothers me. Because the food's good. Because sometimes I need to remember I'm still just a person.'

'And your members don't come?'

'They have their own places.' She took a sip of water. 'We don't actually do everything together, you know.'

'Right.'

'You sound surprised.'

'Not surprised. Just...' you couldn't find the right word.

'It's fine. People always think we're this perfect unit. Always together, always in sync.' She traced a pattern on the tablecloth with her finger. 'It's not like that.'

'What's it like?'

'It's like any job. You work with people. You care about them. But you still need your own space sometimes.'

'That makes sense.'

'Does it? You seem like the type who'd live at the office if they'd let you.'

You almost denied it, then didn't. 'Fair point.'

The food came faster than you expected. Her pasta. Your steak. Simple stuff, but it smelled good.

'This isn't exactly what I pictured when you said dinner,' you admitted.

'What did you picture?'

'I don't know. Something more...'

'Fancy?'

'Maybe.'

She shrugged. 'I sit in enough fancy restaurants for work. This is better.'

You took a bite of steak. It was actually good. Really good.

'Not bad,' you said.

'High praise.'

'It is, from me.'

'I know.' She twirled pasta around her fork. 'So, can I ask you something?'

'You just did.'

'Ha ha.' She didn't look amused. 'Seriously though.'

'Go ahead.'

'Do you actually like what you do? Your job?'

You considered bullshitting, then didn't. 'Sometimes.'

'Which parts?'

'The quiet ones. When I'm working on something complicated and it's just me and the problem.' You cut another piece of steak. 'You?'

'Performing. Being on stage. The three minutes where nothing else matters.' She didn't hesitate. 'Everything else is just... stuff I do so I can have those moments.'

'That's a lot of stuff for three minutes.'

'Yeah.' She looked down at her food, prodding with a dash of frustration. 'Yeah, it is.'

You ate in silence for a minute. Not awkward, just... thinking silence.

'Can I ask you something now?' you said.

'Sure.'

'Why'd you ask me to dinner? Really?'

She poked at her pasta. 'I don't know. You looked like you needed it.'

'That's it?'

'Does there have to be more?'

'Usually is.'

She sighed. 'Look, I've sat through enough meetings with you to know you skip lunch most days. And I saw your car in the parking garage at midnight last week when I was leaving the practice room. And then today, you looked...' she gestured vaguely at your face.

'I looked what?'

'Empty-tired, not the usual tiredness you wear on your face. You know?' 

You weren't sure what to say to that.

'Anyway,' she continued. 'It's just dinner. It's not that deep.'

'Right.'

'Right,' she echoed.

The silence that followed should have been uncomfortable. But it wasn't, really. Just quiet.

'It's good,' you finally said, gesturing to your plate. 'The food.'

'Told you.'

'You did.'

She smiled, just slightly. 'I'm right about a lot of things.'

'I'll reserve judgment on that.'

'Smart.' She took a sip of water. 'So... was this weird? Me asking you to dinner?'

You thought about it. 'A little.'

'Sorry.'

'Don't be. Weird isn't bad.'

She nodded. 'No, it's not.'

The rest of the meal was easier. You talked about nothing important. Work, a little. Music she was listening to. A book you'd been meaning to read but hadn't found time for. Normal stuff that normal people probably talked about all the time.

When the check came, you reached for it.

'I got it,' she said.

'You invited me.'

'Exactly.'

'That's not how it works.'

'Says who?' She grabbed the check before you could. 'Too slow, Mr. Executive.'

Outside, the air felt damp. Like it had rained while you were eating, or was about to.

'Which way you headed?' she asked.

You pointed vaguely east.

'I'm that way too. For a few blocks, anyway.'

You walked together. Not too close. Just two people who happened to be going the same direction.

'Thanks,' you said after a minute.

'For what?'

'Dinner.'

'Was it terrible?'

'No.'

'High praise,' she said again.

'I mean it. It was... nice.'

'Wow. Nice. I'm flattered.'

'Shut up.'

She laughed. Not her public laugh, the perfect one from interviews. A real one, slightly too loud.

'You know what?' she said.

'What?'

'You're not as scary as they say.'

'Who says I'm scary?'

'Everyone.' She kicked a small stone on the sidewalk. 'The whole office. The interns call you The Terminator.'

'They do not.'

'They absolutely do.' She grinned. 'But I'll keep your secret.'

'What secret?'

'That you're actually just a regular person who works too much.'

'I don't work too much.'

'Sureeee.' She stopped walking. 'This is me.'

You looked up at her building. Nice but not flashy. 'This is you.'

'Yeah.' She rocked back on her heels slightly. 'So.'

'So.'

'Thanks for coming.'

'Thanks for asking.'

She looked like she might say something else, then didn't. Just nodded. 'See you tomorrow.'

'See you tomorrow.'

She turned, walked toward her door. You should have left then. Just turned and walked away.

Instead, you watched her go. Watched as she paused at the entrance, like maybe she was going to look back.

She didn't.

And that was fine. Better, probably.

You turned and walked home, feeling something you couldn't quite name. Not happiness, exactly. But maybe something close to it. Something adjacent.

Like maybe for the first time in a long time, you'd been a person instead of a position. And maybe that was enough.

—

Chaewon's Diary - April 25, 2025

It's stupid to write this down. Dangerous, probably.

I love him.

I tried not to. Made lists of reasons why I shouldn't. His position. My career. The company. The members. The fans.

The lists didn't help.

I tried imagining my life without him in it. Moving companies. Going solo. Leaving the country. None of it worked because he'd still exist somewhere. I'd still know he was out there.

It's not that I need him. I was fine before him. I'll be fine after, I guess.

But I don't want to be.

I love the way he focuses when he reads reports. How he thinks no one notices when he's tired. How he pretends not to care about things but always remembers details about everyone.

I love how he never says more than he needs to. How he leaves room for silence.

I love that he came to dinner with me. That he let himself be normal for one night.

If he doesn't love me back, that's okay.

But I think sometimes… maybe he could.

—

Morning hit you like a truck.

Your phone was buzzing. Had been buzzing. You fumbled for it, eyes still closed.

Missed call. Another. Another. Another.

You squinted at the screen.

9 missed calls from your manager. 4 from some board member. 8 from numbers you didn't recognize.

The time was 7:12 AM.

More buzzing. Texts now. Emails.

You sat up, suddenly very awake.

First text: a link. You clicked it.

"COMPANY CEO AND IDOL MEMBER CAUGHT ON SECRET DATE"

There was a photo. You and Chaewon at the restaurant. Her laughing. You almost smiling. It looked... not innocent.

More links.

"SOURCE CONFIRMS: CEO AND KIM CHAEWON 'MORE THAN PROFESSIONAL'"

"INSIDER: 'THEY'VE BEEN HIDING IT FOR MONTHS'"

You felt sick. Scrolled back through your notifications, mind racing.

Then you saw it. Late-night texts from Chaewon.

1:12 AM 

don't freak out when you wake up 

someone took pictures at the restaurant 

it's already online i'm sorry

1:14 AM 

my manager is losing it 

company PR called an emergency meeting 

they're saying we can't talk to each other

1:27 AM 

they want me to say it was just a work dinner 

that we barely know each other 

is that what you want me to say?

1:41 AM 

i can't sleep this is so stupid 

we didn't do anything wrong

1:55 AM 

maybe we did though 

maybe i did

1:56 AM 

i've never told you this 

never thought i would need to

1:58 AM 

i love you 

i think i have for a long time 

i just never saw the point in saying it 

it seemed impossible

2:01 AM 

i'm sorry you didn't need this 

not now not with everything else

2:03 AM

forget i said anything blame the dinner on me 

i'll fix this

Your phone started ringing again. Board chairman.

You let it ring.

Read the texts again. And again.

The world was imploding around you, your career possibly in flames, and all you could think about was that last message.

i love you

Your thumb hovered over the screen. What could you possibly say now? What was left to say when everything had already changed?

The phone kept ringing.

—

The boardroom was too bright. Fluorescent lights reflecting off the polished table where twelve men in identical suits sat judging you.

You'd always seen success as a game with simple rules. Work harder. Think faster. Never look back. That's how you climbed here—by treating everything as disposable.

Turns out you were wrong.

You weren't disposable. Chaewon wasn't disposable. Whatever had grown between you wasn't disposable.

But they were treating it like it was.

‘The optics are unacceptable,’ said the Vice Chairman, his voice clinical. ‘A senior executive and an idol? The media is already spinning narratives.’

You watched his mouth move but barely heard the words. Your phone weighed heavy in your pocket. Her message burned into your mind.

i love you i always have

‘Are you listening?’ Someone was addressing you directly now.

‘Yes,’ you lied.

The Chairman leaned forward. ‘We've spent a decade building this company's reputation. We won't let one indiscretion destroy it.’

Indiscretion. As if dinner between two people was a crime.

‘We've developed a containment strategy,’ said the PR director, sliding folders across the table. You didn't open yours. ‘First, no contact with Kim Chaewon. None. Effective immediately.’

Your jaw tightened.

‘Second, you'll accompany Le Sserafim to America. Three weeks of promotional activities. You'll be positioned as overseeing the company's international expansion. Professional distance will be maintained at all times.’

You looked around the table. Not a single sympathetic face.

‘What happens to Chaewon?’ you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

‘She'll be fine,’ said the Chairman dismissively. ‘As long as this situation is managed correctly.’ 

‘And if it isn't?’

The question hung in the air. Someone cleared their throat.

‘Then her position in the group becomes untenable,’ said the A&R director finally. ‘The other members shouldn't suffer for her... complications.’

Complications. That's what they called her now. Not their star performer. Not the artist who'd brought in millions. A complication.

‘So that's the deal,’ you said flatly. ‘I go to America. Stay away from her. Keep my job.’

‘Precisely.’

‘And if I refuse?’

The Chairman's smile didn't reach his eyes. ‘Then you both lose everything.’

Simple as that. A business decision.

Your mind flashed to Chaewon. How she looked at dinner. How easily she laughed. The way she really saw you when no one else bothered to look.

For two years, she'd been the one constant. The one person who grew on you.

‘Do we have an understanding?’ the Chairman pressed.

Someone was speaking. You realized it was you.

‘I understand perfectly.’

Everything felt unreal. As if you were a mirage of yourself, observing yourself in the most dire situation.

‘Good. Your flight leaves tomorrow night. The PR team has prepared statements for both of you. Stick to the script.’

They moved on. Budget projections. Q3 forecasts. As if they hadn't just hollowed you out completely.

You sat there, a model of composure. Inside, something was breaking, tearing along a fault line you hadn't known existed until Chaewon walked into your office and asked you to dinner.

The meeting ended. Men in suits filed out, crisis averted.

You remained seated, staring at your reflection in the polished table.

Tomorrow you'd fly to America. You'd watch Chaewon from across rooms, pretend she was nothing to you. You'd do it because the alternative would destroy her.

Your phone buzzed once. A text.

It wasn't from her. It couldn't be. They'd already gotten to her.

You checked anyway.

From your assistant: ‘Car is waiting whenever you're ready, sir.’

You stood up. Straightened your tie. Gathered the folder you never opened.

They thought they'd won. Thought they'd contained the problem.

They didn't understand.

They'd taken everything from you except the one thing that mattered—the knowledge that somewhere in this building was a woman who loved you. Had always loved you.

And for the first time, you were certain you loved her too.

—

You left the boardroom, a hollow shell of yourself.

America. No Chaewon. For three weeks.

They called it mercy. You called it execution.

The flight to Los Angeles stretched endlessly, your thoughts circling like vultures. You didn't sleep. Couldn't. The empty seat beside you an accusation.

Your phone vibrated as the plane touched down.

11:42 PM

landed safe?

Chaewon.

You stared at her message until the screen dimmed, then went black. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard.

They couldn't monitor texts, could they? Were they watching?

You couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk her.

No response.

The California sun felt wrong on your skin. Too bright, too insistent. Your hotel suite overlooked the Pacific. Endless blue that reminded you of nothing but distance.

Day Three.

8:17 AM

meetings are boring without you to glare at everyone

8:19 AM

the new intern asked where you went

8:22 AM

i told her you were saving the american branch from themselves

You almost smiled. Almost.

No response.

The American executives treated you like royalty. A king in exile. Their offices were too bright, their coffee too bitter, their laughter too loud. You moved through meetings like a ghost, present but never there.

Day Five.

3:04 AM

can't sleep

3:05 AM

is it the time difference or is it just

3:11 AM

never mind

What would you say if you could? That you lay awake too, staring at hotel ceilings, replaying her confession like a film you couldn't pause?

No response.

You worked eighteen-hour days. Not because the work required it, but because your empty room was unbearable. The silence that you once called home—incomplete.

Day Seven.

1:47 PM

there's a rumor you're never coming back

1:48 PM

tell me that's not true

1:52 PM

please

The last word felt like a knife between your ribs. Please. As if you had a choice. As if any of this was within your control.

No response.

The days blurred. You functioned on autopilot, your mind perpetually seventeen hours ahead, in Seoul, where she was.

Day Nine.

5:31 PM

they announced the showcase dates

5:32 PM

we're coming to LA next week

5:33 PM

will you be there?

Le Sserafim. Coming to Los Angeles. Of course. The universe's cruelest joke—to bring her so close, yet keep her untouchable.

No response.

You attended dinners. Networking events. Smiled when appropriate. Spoke when necessary. No one noticed how your eyes constantly swept rooms, searching for threats that weren't there.

Day Twelve.

10:17 AM

we leave tomorrow

10:18 AM

i know you can't answer

10:25 AM

but please, if you can

10:26 AM

be there

They must have warnings in place. Her messages carried the weight of someone being careful—someone who knew the stakes.

No response.

Le Sserafim arrived with the usual fanfare. Cameras flashing. Fans screaming. You watched from the periphery as she emerged from the airport terminal, perfect smile in place, waving to the crowd.

She didn't look for you. Knew better than that.

But you saw the tension in her shoulders. The way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes; not quite the smile she had when she swiped up some of your steak.

Day Fourteen.

No messages.

You checked your phone obsessively. Refreshed the screen until the battery drained to critical. Nothing.

The silence was worse than any words could have been.

The showcase venue was packed—a sea of lightsticks and expectant faces. You stood in the shadows of the VIP section, surrounded by American executives who had no idea you were breaking apart inside.

Le Sserafim performed flawlessly. Of course they did. Chaewon shone like a star brought to earth—her voice clear, her movements precise, her smile blinding.

Not once did her eyes search the crowd. Not once did she falter.

Professional to her core.

You left before the final song. Couldn't bear another moment of proximity without contact.

In your hotel room, you drank two fingers of whiskey and watched the city lights blur through the window.

Your phone remained silent.

Day Sixteen.

You were leaving a restaurant when you saw her.

Across the street, surrounded by managers and security. The group heading into a high-end boutique.

Your driver opened your car door, but you stood frozen, watching as she disappeared inside the shop.

She didn't see you.

When you returned to your hotel, you found a message.

7:03 PM

i saw you today

7:04 PM

you looked tired

You stared at the screen, heart hammering against your ribs.

No response.

Day Nineteen.

The final showcase. The final night in Los Angeles. Tomorrow, Le Sserafim would fly to New York. You would follow a day later.

You sat in the back row, hidden in shadow. Watched her perform for the last time on American soil.

She was transcendent.

Afterward, you slipped backstage under the pretense of congratulating the team. Your company's biggest assets. Your professional obligation.

She stood with the other members, accepting praise from American executives. Smiling. Nodding. Perfect.

Your eyes met across the room.

One second. Two.

Then she looked away, her expression never changing.

But you saw it—the slight tremble of her hand at her side.

Back in your hotel room, your phone lit up.

8:30 PM

i miss you

8:31 PM

i know i shouldn't say that

8:31 PM

i know i shouldn't even text you

8:32 PM

but i can't do this anymore

8:32 PM

please say something

Your chest tightened. Three weeks of silence, and now this—her desperation breaking through, risking everything.

You stared at the screen, knowing what you should do. Delete. Ignore. Follow the rules that kept her safe.

Instead, your fingers moved.

8:35 PM

The coffee in LA is terrible.

A pause. You could almost see her confusion.

8:36 PM

what?

8:37 PM

that's what you have to say?

You smiled faintly. Even the way you message her—capitalized first letters—is unique from hers.

8:38 PM

I hear New York's is better

Might try it when I get there

8:40 PM

when will you be in new york?

8:41 PM

Tomorrow.

8:41 PM

Early flight.

You weren't supposed to be on tomorrow's flight. You were meant to follow a day later. Keep the distance. Maintain the separation they'd enforced.

8:42 PM

you changed your flight?

8:43 PM

Figured I should see the Empire State Building.

8:43 PM

Heard the view is worth the risk.

Your heart pounded. The careful wording. The hidden meaning. Saying everything without saying anything that could truly incriminate either of you.

8:45 PM

there's a small coffee shop

8:45 PM

by the hotel

8:46 PM

i was planning to go there

8:46 PM

after tomorrow's rehearsal

8:47 PM

around 4

A plan. Hidden in casual conversation.

8:48 PM

Sounds like a good place for coffee.

8:49 PM

it is

8:49 PM

they say it's quiet

8:50 PM

not many people know about it

8:51 PM

I like quiet.

The conversation was innocent enough on the surface. Anyone reading would see nothing but meaningless chatter about coffee.

But between the lines: a plan. A meeting. A rebellion.

8:53 PM

i have to go

8:53 PM

sakura is calling

8:54 PM

don't forget to try the coffee

8:54 PM

it's been too long since you had a good cup

You stared at those last words. The double meaning clear.

8:55 PM

I won't forget.

You deleted the conversation. She would do the same.

But the promise remained.

Tomorrow. New York. 4 PM.

Day Twenty-one would break the rules. Day Twenty-one would change everything.

—

You got to the airport before the others. Boarded the flight before the others. Got the first class treatment that the board thinks you like.

The whole seat had a door. You closed it just in case you saw Chaewon. In case you lost it.

Despite it all, you knew she was there, the wisp of her soft perfume serenaded you even through thick mahogany wood panels—through the opulence of first class.

You kept your eyes fixed on your laptop screen. Work emails you couldn't focus on. Words blurring together as your mind fixed on one thought:

Tomorrow. 4 PM. Her hotel.

The ‘coffee shop’ wasn't a coffee shop at all. You both knew that. A code thin enough that anyone monitoring would see through it, yet plausible enough to maintain deniability.

The flight attendant asked if you wanted champagne. You declined. Asked for water instead. Needed a clear head.

Five hours trapped in a metal tube, knowing she was just rows behind you. Five hours of pretending the center of your universe wasn't within reach.

Your phone buzzed. A text from the Chairman.

‘Landing at JFK ahead of Le Sserafim. Good optics. Keep distance in New York. Almost done.’

Almost done. The words echoed.

Twenty days down. One more to go.

Tomorrow, at 4 PM, you would break every rule they had set. You would go to her hotel. You would see her—really see her—for the first time in three weeks.

And then what?

You had no plan beyond that moment. No strategy for what came after. The executive who planned everything had no contingency for this. A hollow cadaver. Waning the flames that could be easily put if you just resisted.

If only.

The plane took off, carrying you toward New York. Toward her. Toward whatever came next.

You closed your eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. All you could think about was her text:

i miss you

Three small words that had unraveled three weeks of carefully maintained distance.

Three small words that weren't the three words you couldn't stop thinking about since that night:

i love you

—

After you left her hotel room, after you hugged her, after you saw her face up close—dangerously close to kissing her—everything collapsed once more. The dregs of your hope were gone once again: You wanted only her. Only her.

You walked past the hallway, trying not to look suspicious under the camera—which, to be frank, was impossible.

And pressed the keycard onto the door, as suspiciously as possible, and entered. With your back to the closed door, you pulled out your phone and messaged her.

4:07 PM

Let’s meet again

4:08 PM

where?

4:08 PM

On the rooftop

4:09 PM

i miss you

4:10 PM

You just saw me.

4:10 PM

i know

4:11 PM

Hang in there. 

Chaewon.

4:11 PM

i like it when you say my name.

4:12 PM

Chaewon, this can end your career.

4:12 PM

i dont care. 

i want you. 

only you.

You slid down the door and sat. With your phone still in hand. 

You’re about to risk everything. Was it love that meant protecting her forever? Was it love that meant you couldn’t still yourself for a month or a year, wait, and wait, until she’s finally free?

Damn it all.

—

Chaewon’s Diary—Part 2 of May 15, 2025

He wants to meet me. On the rooftop.

Why?

Is he gonna kiss me? Is he gonna reject me once more?

Was it even a rejection in the first place? He promised. He promised. Oh god, my head hurts, I can’t think of anything.

All I can think of is him. My executive. 

—

As the sun turns orange in its preparation for slumber, you make your way to the rooftop of the hotel. The elevator chimes, almost too loud, and you enter with a towel on-hand. There’s moments where the shiver runs through your entire body—not out of being scared, but of the possibility of seeing Chaewon again. 

The elevator reaches the top floor. And in your hopes of not seeing anyone there, you were vindicated. No one. Nobody. Just a heated pool with the bougiest accommodations possible.

Thank the heavens, you thought.

Now it’s time to patiently wait, to not gnaw through your teeth like it’s cardboard in anticipation (which is easier said than done).

Regardless, you waited, sitting on one of the chairs, overlooking the sunset. The breeze was chilly, but nothing that you couldn’t endure.

So you waited.

But just for a moment, you closed your eyes.

—

‘Silly.’ 

Your eyes opened.

There she was. Chaewon. In all her glory

In the 2 hours you haven’t seen her, when the sun gained its slightly orange tint, she’s progressed into something like a goddess. Brown bob-cut, a perfect face…. Perfection incarnate.

‘You fell asleep.’

‘Oh.’ That’s about all you could get out; too busy staring at her.

‘I missed you.’

‘It’s been 2 hours.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re about to risk everything.

‘I know.’

‘Your career. Your… everything.’

‘You are my everything.’ She replies—climbing on top of you. Crystalline tears formed around the rims of her eyes.

‘Chaewon. Please.’

‘There’s nothing quite like this… hm?’ She says, amused at how doomed everything seemed to be.

‘Fighting against inevitability.’ You continue. Pressing your thumbs against her cheekbones once again, where tears flow once again. 

‘I’m so selfish.’

‘Don’t say that. Don’t say that… I am too.’ 

‘I thought if I avoided you. Long enough. Maybe, just maybe, we would’ve had a better chance. Look at me now, on you, risking everything.’

She softly collapsed on your chest, huffing her tears. And you spread your palm along her soft hair, this perfect hair.

‘You are so beautiful. Chaewon.’

‘I love you.’

Perhaps this is where it all topples. The final wall, once a 100-story skyscraper, reduced to mere ruins.

And you kiss her; grab the nape of her neck and press yourself closer to the kiss. Her lips. Her soft moans. Little squeals. 

Fuck.

You press yourself against the hotness of her mouth. Her velvety mouth crossed along your own. An apprehensive rush to it—oxymoron be damned—you wanted everything Chaewon—while not crossing any lines.

Despite it all, Chaewon’s soft hands ventured forth to your arms, grasped them tight and placed them right along her thin waist.

She wants it.

She wants you.

And that just about does it.

You release just for a bit. Look at her half-lidded eyes, seemingly, under pure bliss.

‘If we continue…’ You say, each syllable harder than the previous. The fact that you’re here, kissing Chaewon, feeling her body, just as you dreamed, just as you wished for all time—makes it harder to think of all the consequences.

The impending doom—so to speak.

‘You idiot.’ She replies.

‘What?’ 

‘I’ve risked everything and more to be here with you right now. And you think I’ll flake out now? Of all times—now?’

You laugh, so close to her mouth; you stare at her, and she’s attempting eyebrow-knitted frustration that’s more cute than anything else.

‘You’re so cute.’

‘Oh shut up.’

‘You’re everything to me.’ 

‘...So are you.’

Her eyes glisten something transcendent and she moves to kiss you again. That velvety soft mouth, of mint, of something fruity.

Pure bliss.

‘I want you.’ She squeaks out, between the kisses.

‘You have me.’ You reply, accidentally bumping teeth. Soft laughter ensues.

She’s so soft against your palms—the small of her back, the tightness of her waist, the bump of her bra-strap. Inbetween it all, moaning something sweet into your mouth. She releases just for a second, catching a glimpse of you; her lips are all kiss-bitten and swollen, soft and supple; ‘We’re two walking cadavers, you know.’

‘Lust and learning Chaewon. That’s all there is to it.’

Instead of a quick and bratty reply—

‘That’s true.’

Her lips land on yours once again. Flight and apprehensive, her thin arms wrap around you like you’re something to lose: tight enough that you know she’s there.

Her meek body is warm against you—just a shroud of clothing between your hand and her milky skin. You needed her. Wanted her more. An indulgence that satiation could barely meet.

So you flip her over; on this thin pool chair, a little bougie, Chaewon was splayed across.

And god.

It was all worth it. Your executive position on standstill—bound for execution. Your impending exile. All of it.

White t-shirt, thin shorts, and just a smidgen of make-up—lip-stick all smudged along her plump lips.

Being away for just a second was tantamount to hell: You dived in. Her body felt so docile and meek under you—squirming along your hot touch. Surround your thick arms around her thin waist, let her back bend in response, feel her stomach press upon you as you kiss her into the pool chair—little soft squeals the guiding light to it all.

Her hands ventured low to bunch up her t-shirt, and you helped her; really, you wanted to press on her soft naked abdomen, venture up to her naked sternum, feeling the soft naked swell of her—

Her t-shirt slipped off quickly, and there laid her gorgeous torso. 

You pressed kisses along her collarbone; just enough pressure to leave a mark there for days.

Just in case, you say, don’t forget me, just for a day or two.

You press softer kisses along the softer flesh below her collarbone, feeling her skin, really conceptualizing that she’s there. Really fucking there. And you laugh, under your breath; as if Chaewon knew exactly what you were thinking, her palm lands right on your cheek—softly grazing.

‘I’m here.’

‘Right. Right.’ 

Gain composure. This goddess awaits you.

So you venture forth. Along her neck muscle, the soft tendon that trembles under your kiss, the loose skin that gets her squirming under you, muscles tensing. Just below her jaw, you suck on her skin, tight, really tight, until you’re sure that there’s a welting hickey right there.

You observe how the red blooms, slowly gaining almost a purple hue. Nothing could cover that.

‘You’re really asking to be caught.’ She says, almost satisfied you left a mark on her.

‘Are you gonna cover it?’

‘Why would I cover what you give me?’ Her expression is pure seduction. Aphrodite incarnate.

Again, your world exploded.

You kiss her rougher this time. Muss up her hair. Venture beneath her waist. Pull at her firm thighs. Hands venture along the sides of her, your cold fingertips get her softly squirming beneath your touch—shimmers of gooseflesh rising along the delicate curves of her side, right under your fingertips.

The bronze sun shimmers off her torso as something like a masterpiece—faint shadows articulated along her perfect body—different orange, yellow hues bouncing off and enhancing the swells and curves and everything she had.

You pull her waist softly to get it bent again, venturing underneath, feeling her spine; venturing along her spine, the soft swell of it all—she’s here, she wants you, all 2 years of it condensed into this moment.

The bra-strap hits you like a reminder that her bosom was hidden beneath, the gentle swells and curves all a devious hint at what lay under.

So you clip it.

She shivers at the realization. The clip was off. And your hands automatically moved to take it off completely.

Her arms softly push together her torso: Displaying the treasure that laid before you.

Beautiful bronze peaks.

God.

God!

‘Ready the funeral wreaths for me. Chaewon.’

She scoffs. Then a soft laugh choked her up.

Your two hands softly teased the sides of her breasts; the way it surrendered to the slightest force; you ventured across her swell, feeling the desperate softness of her naked breasts. All while kissing her desperately. Your hands felt up and down, side-to-side, until she squirmed for relief: That’s when your fingers brushed over her perfect nipples.

And you had to look.

The way she shivered. God. Biting the side of her index finger. Moaning. Soft. Squealing even as you watched her carefully. The way her tongue traced a wet line along her lips—goading you, Aphrodite.

Your kiss ventured down, the soft tendon of her neck, the firm sternum.

Then finally—her breasts.

You kiss the soft skin.

Circling it.

The part that needed relief.

Teasing her. Even if the perpetuity of a multi-billion dollar company finding a way to bury you was crushing, her presence relieved it all.

Latched on.

‘Ahhh~’

‘Music to my ears.’

‘Oh shut up.’

‘Gladly.’

You dug in. Breaths became rigidly quick. Your other hand massaged the other breast. The nipple between your teeth got the most beautiful notes out of her.

By the time you stopped, her entire body shook.

‘Did you just cum?’

Her weak arm fell softly on your chest—apparently—a punch. 

‘No.’

A sick grin grew on you, and you wrapped your arms around her; kissing her jawline. 

‘You really did cum.’

Before you could do anything, her two hands squished your cheeks together.

‘Take responsibility.’

Trapped between her two small hands, you laugh. ‘I know. I know.’ A soft kiss on her sweat-slick forehead.

Your smirk lingers as you press another kiss against her temple. ‘You’ve got some nerve, you know that?’

Chaewon shifts slightly, resting her chin on your shoulder. ‘Nerve?’ she echoes, voice still breathless.

‘You climbed on top of me, seduced me, came just from me playing with your tits…’ Your hands wander, sliding down the dip of her back, feeling the heat of her skin. ‘And now you’re telling me to take responsibility?’

She hums, fingers tracing light, absentminded shapes on your chest. ‘Mmm. That’s right.’

You chuckle against her perfumed hair—sweet, fruity. ‘And what exactly does ‘taking responsibility’ mean to you?’

Her lips barely brush your ear as she murmurs, ‘It means you don’t stop until I can’t think straight.’

Your breath catches.

And then, you’re moving.

With a swift motion, you flip her onto her back, her body bouncing slightly against the lounge chair. She gasps, eyes wide for only a second before a slow, knowing grin spreads across her lips.

‘Too much?’ you tease, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand.

Chaewon shakes her head, cheeks flushed, wrists tightening. ‘Not even close.’

You take a moment to admire her like this—laid out beneath you, messy hair spread out over the cushion, lips still kiss-bitten and swollen. Her chest rises and falls with anticipation, and her legs shift restlessly against yours, already needing more.

‘I love this look on you,’ you murmur, tracing your free hand down her side. ‘All desperate and needy.’

Feigning offense, ‘I am not needy.’

‘Oh?’ Your fingers dance along the waistband of her shorts, teasing, not quite moving further. ‘Then what do you call this?’

She squirms. Just slightly. Just enough.

‘I call it,’ she whispers, tugging at her trapped wrists, ‘a challenge.’

Oh.

A thrill rushes through you.

Your grip on her wrists tightens slightly, your knee nudging between her legs, pressing against the wet heat of her core. She gasps, back arching, but you don’t move—just let her feel the pressure, let her know exactly what she’s asking for.

‘Careful, baby,’ you murmur, leaning down, lips hovering just above hers. ‘You might not like what happens when I take that challenge.’

Chaewon’s grin is pure defiance, pure want.

‘Try me.’

And so you do.

Your hand finally slips beneath the waistband of her shorts, fingers sliding between her soaked folds, feeling the way she clenches around nothing, already so ready for you.

‘You’re soaked,’ you murmur against her neck, voice full of something dark and satisfied. ‘You’ve been like this since I was playing with your tits, huh?’

She whines, trying to twist her wrists free, but you don’t let her go.

‘You’re not getting out of this,’ you tease, slipping one finger inside her, the velvety pink folds, feeling her tense, then relax, then tighten again as you curl it just right, just fucking right, just until she curls her back to you. ‘You wanted me to take responsibility?’ You slip another finger into her, the tight wetness of her, stretching her slowly. ‘Then take it.’

Her breath stutters. And she moans.

Your thumb circles her clit, slow but firm, coaxing out soft, trembling moans that get swallowed by the night air.

And then, just when she starts getting lost in it—just when her hips start rolling, when she’s clenching desperately around your fingers—you stop.

Your hand is stuck on her wrists, and the other—fucking her senseless.

Her whine is immediate. ‘No, no, don’t—’

You smirk against her throat. ‘Not so fun when I’m the one teasing, huh?’

‘You’re evil.’

‘I’m making sure you really feel it.’ You drag your fingers out completely, holding them up just enough for her to see the way they glisten in the dim light. ‘And you do feel it, don’t you, baby?’

Chaewon glares at you, still breathless, still burning up, but there’s something playful in the way she juts her chin out.

‘Fine,’ she murmurs. ‘If you’re gonna tease…’

Then, before you can react, she hooks her legs around your waist and grinds up against you, rubbing herself against your cock through your pants—needy, desperate, shameless.

Your breath leaves you in a sharp hiss.

‘Shit.’

She grins. ‘What was that?’

You grip her hips, forcing them to still. ‘You really wanna play that game?’

She tilts her head. ‘You gonna stop me?’

No. No, you’re not.

You’re gonna fuck her senseless.

Your grip tightens around her hips, firm enough that she stops moving—but not before you grind back, pressing yourself against the slick heat between her thighs, making her gasp.

‘Chaewon,’ you murmur, voice rough, a warning. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game.’

She exhales shakily, eyes locked onto yours, her body taut beneath you.

‘You sure you’re ready for the consequences?’ You add.

Instead of answering, she licks her lips and tugs at her trapped wrists again. ‘Dear, I forgot about consequences a long time ago.’

You smirk, it’s true. You’re about to fuck her on this pool chair. Open to 360 degrees of vision, just the slightest glimpse and they’d see you fucking Chaewon. The fact that you’d lose your position the moment they saw you within 5 feet of Chaewon, let alone fucking her.

Fight against fate with absurdity.

You shift, focusing on the moment, leaning down so your lips barely ghost over hers. ‘I like you like this,’ you admit, your voice low, teasing. ‘All spread out, squirming, desperate—’

She whimpers when you roll your hips into her again, the friction delicious, just enough to drive her crazy without giving her what she really wants.

‘You’re so mean,’ she breathes, but her body betrays her, arching up, trying to chase more.

You chuckle, finally freeing her wrists—only for her to grab the collar of your shirt and yank you down into a kiss.

It’s messy, all tongue and heat, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer, like she’s trying to mold herself to you completely. You groan into her mouth, one hand gripping her thigh, the other slipping beneath her shorts again, fingers finding their place against her soaked entrance.

She’s so fucking wet.

You tease her with your fingertips, barely dipping inside, a soft squelch, just enough to make her whimper into the kiss.

‘God, you need it, huh?’ you murmur against her lips.

She nods frantically, her hands clawing at your shoulders. ‘Please.’

Your breath catches at how wrecked she already sounds. ‘Please what?’

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t hesitate. ‘Please fuck me.’

You curse under your breath.

Then you sit up, hands moving with quick precision—grabbing the waistband of her shorts and yanking them down her legs, tossing them aside without care.

And finally, she’s bare beneath you.

You take a moment, just looking at her. The way she’s sprawled out, chest rising and falling rapidly, legs slightly parted, glistening with need.

‘You’re perfect.’

Chaewon bites her lip, her gaze flicking down—to where you’re already painfully hard, straining against your pants. She reaches forward, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over you, tracing the outline of your cock.

You let out a sharp breath.

‘You’re still dressed,’ she murmurs. ‘Not fair.’

She’s right.

So you fix it.

You shed your clothes as quickly as possible, the fabric falling to the floor, forgotten. When you look at her again, she’s staring at you—all of you—her lips slightly parted, eyes dark.

Then, slowly, her fingers curl around your cock, stroking once, twice, making your whole body tense.

‘Fuck.’

She grins. ‘That was cute.’

You glare at her, grip tightening on her hips. ‘You wanna see cute? Keep talking.’

She laughs, breathy, and guides you between her legs.

Your tip brushes against her entrance, and her laughter dies into a shaky inhale.

You barely push in, just an inch, feeling how tight, how hot she is, and you both groan at the same time.

Chaewon’s nails dig into your shoulders. ‘More,’ she gasps.

You give her more.

You sink into her inch by inch, stretching her, filling her completely, watching the way her pink lips part as she takes all of you.

She feels unreal.

You curse, head falling to her shoulder, breathing heavily against her skin. ‘You’re so—fuck—you feel so good.’

She’s trembling, her arms wrapping around your back, holding you as close as possible. ‘Move. Please—move.’ she pleads, desperately whispering hot breath into your ear, as you bury yourself into her petite shoulder.

And so you do.

Your hips pull back, then roll forward again, slow, wet, a stretched squelch, setting a slow, deliberate pace—making sure she feels everything. Every inch, every pulse, every deep thrust that has her gasping your name like a prayer.

She’s already falling apart beneath you, legs wrapped around your waist, nails raking down your back.

‘Faster. Oh please, faster.’ she breathes.

You obey.

Your hips snap against hers, faster, deeper, her moans turning into desperate little cries with every thrust.

‘You’re taking me so well,’ you murmur, kissing the shell of her ear, your fingers tangling with hers as you pin her hands above her head again. ‘Like you were made for this.’

She nods frantically, barely able to form words, barely able to do anything but cling to you and feel.

Her lips quiver. ‘I was made for you.’

She finally unravels, clenching around you so tightly, her whole body trembling, a gushing pressure around your cock, her musical chant of bliss filling your ears—you follow right after, burying yourself as deep as possible, spilling into her your entire seed, painting her cervix white, losing yourself completely.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but heavy breathing, tangled limbs, the aftermath of everything you’ve held back for so long.

Then, finally, Chaewon exhales, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw.

‘You’re definitely taking responsibility,’ she whispers.

You chuckle, pressing your forehead against hers.

There’s something nonsensical about it all. You’d rather not think about it. Your lover. The woman of your dreams underneath you, who took your seed, who keeps kissing the shell of your ear like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

But it keeps coming back.

The fact that no one caught you on the rooftop is a miracle.

The fact that maybe tomorrow or the day after is the day you get caught is… reality.

You want to fight everything that distends you from your dream, your everything: Chaewon.

But it’s frail. You can see it in her eyes too. Even as you rest your sweat-slick forehead against hers, blowing soft hairs out of her forehead—you can see tears coast on her red-rimmed eyes.

She loves you.

The near chance that you may be separated tears at you, hacks at your soul.

Your heart has wings for her.

Chaewon.

Your queen.

Aphrodite incarnate.

The only one.

TO BE CONTINUED(?)

[rafeysbangs]

⋅˚₊୨୧↷ bf!rafe loves your lingerie sets

warnings ; suggestive !, pretty fluffy - nothing else, rafe refers to reader as baby :)

notes ; i bought new lingerie today so here's a fic based on how my very real boyfriend rafe cameron acted when i showed him ( i'm gonna go touch grass now xo )

"raaafe, i've got a surprise for you..."

you sang as you walked through the door of your shared condo, trillions of bags in hand. he mumbled something in response from the bedroom, distracted by something on his phone - probably work related - so you snuck into the bathroom, plotting to grasp his attention.

the door creaked open as you stepped into the bedroom, the soft click of your heels against the hardwood floor drawing rafe’s attention from where he was sprawled lazily across the bed. his phone slipped from his hand onto the mattress, forgotten the second his eyes landed on you. his gaze swept over you slowly, taking in every detail of the lace hugging your curves, every inch of skin it left exposed.

he froze, his mouth slightly open, the corners tugging into a faint, incredulous smile. “what-” he started, his voice rasping, but the words caught in his throat.

you shifted under his gaze, tugging at the hem of the delicate fabric even though it did nothing to cover you. “stop staring,” you muttered, your face burning as you glanced away.

“stop staring?” he repeated, pushing himself up from the bed so quickly it startled you. his eyes stayed locked on you, wide with disbelief. “baby, how am i supposed to stop staring when you walk in here looking like this?”

“it’s just lingerie, rafe,” you mumbled, trying to play it off even as your heart pounded in your chest.

“no,” he said, shaking his head as he crossed the room, his bare feet padding against the floor. his hands found your waist without hesitation, his fingers firm but gentle, his touch warm against your skin. “it’s you in lingerie. don’t downplay it.”

you laughed nervously, trying to step back, but his grip held you in place - not forceful, just steady, grounding. “you’re being dramatic.”

he tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “dramatic? baby, i’m not even playing it up enough.” he leaned in closer, his breath brushing over your ear. “do you even know what you’re doing to me right now?”

your breath hitched, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. his thumbs brushed over the lace, and he shook his head, his eyes softening as they roamed your face.

“don’t hide from me,” he said when you started to glance away again, his voice quiet but commanding. he cupped your chin, tilting your face back toward his. “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, and i’m not just saying that.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you whispered, your cheeks flaming, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible not to believe him.

“i’m not,” he insisted, his voice firm but full of affection. “you walk in here looking like an actual dream, and you think i’m gonna let you downplay it? not a chance.”

he bent down slightly, his forehead brushing yours as his fingers traced idle patterns over your sides. “you don’t even need this stuff to have me losing my mind over you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “but this? this just isn’t fair.”

you laughed despite yourself, your nervousness melting under his touch. he pulled back enough to catch your eyes, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “there’s that smile,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “that’s my girl.”

before you could respond, his lips found yours, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to savor you. his hands slid up your back, skimming over the lace, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

“you’re staying in this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice dropping lower. “because we’re not leaving this room for a while.”

his words sent a shiver through you, and you barely had time to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, deeper this time, his hands roaming like he couldn’t get enough of you.

and from the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world, you were starting to think maybe he couldn’t.

taglist ;  @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )