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theglassesgirl · 3 months ago

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Calypso vs Antinous: A Tale of Two Villains

I know this is such a weird topic for me to come back for after not blogging for months, especially I’ve never spoken on this fandom here, as opposed to TikTok. But precisely BECAUSE tiktok is so limiting, even if you make various videos on a topic, someone won’t have all the context and the comment system of that app is pure ass so here I am

Calypso and Antinous are two (out of three!) of the MAJOR villains in the Wisdom Saga, however, both these villains have produced polarizing discourse that has fascinated yet confounded me. On Calypo’s end, she is a villain who many are made upset by when she is interpreted as the villain she is (in varying degrees). On Antinous’s end, he is a villain who many are made upset by when he is interpreted as anything BUT the villain he is (in various extremes). What on earth happened here?

I’ll try to dissect what has transpired as i have come to understand both situations.

PLEASE try to read through the end, but if you like, you are also more than welcome to just focus on one section if you don’t care for both discourses or how i think one affects the other. I totally get it. KEEP IN MIND, that i might speak about something you haven’t PERSONALLY seen, but as i often say in fandom, just because YOU didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t HAPPEN. It adds context to why/how certain fans are reacting as they are. You could be in one camp, and never have seen what the other camp has, so at any point where youre reading and saying to yourself “is this a thing that happened?” Consider that it did indeed, happen, and you are welcome to expand your knowledge on the subject.

ANY comments that go “you have no idea what your talking about/this isn’t true/i’ve never seen this/when did this happen(sarcastically)” will not be answered and you will be blocked, because it is clear you are not actually open to discussion. You’ve made up your mind about these characters and topics, and my time, at least, is valuable.

GENUINE questions like “I didn’t know this/when did this happen (genuine)/can you explain this point more” are more than welcome. I will absolutely entertain character interpretation as well, so long as we’re not trying to “convince” one another, as that isn’t the point of this post. These are two villains who i find fascinating and am wondering why are being treated so differently in discourse spaces.

For Calypso:

I truly and HONESTLY believe that because Calypso is a unique (and lovable! Mind you!) villain, it had led to many of her newer fans to feel uncomfortable with her role in the story. I have seen numerous sides of her discourse and have come with a few iron-clad rules: it is ONLY acceptable to call someone out if they are harassing Wangui, calypo’s VA (which has NOT happened as i am writing this out) OR if an anti-calypso comes into SOMEONE ELSE’s post saying anything like “if you like calypso then you condone her actions” because as what we sane people know, that is just a silly fallacy, OR if they start shit in a cosplayers/fanfic writer/fanartists comment section. ASIDE from these instances, i will be speaking on what none sense has transpired about how Calypso is portrayed in the Musical within her first song, and her future song, because BOTH have been used for utter bias.

A few things to debunk:

FIRST Calypso is NOT cursed to fall in love with anyone who comes across her island. That is a Percy Jackson ONLY addition that has no bearings on her actions in the musical or the original poem.

ALSO though Calypso CANONICALLY RAPES Odysseus for seven years in the original poem, the CHILDREN from that abuse only really exist in secondary sources/works. They NOT in the original poem.

Having said that:

The Ambiguity of Calypso’s actions in both of her songs means that everyone is right when they speculate on what she has done. Odysseus was trapped on her island against HIS will for seven years. He is canonically seen refusing her advances, trying to kill himself, and begging her to let him go and leave him alone. These are UNDISPUTED facts. As such, regardless of how YOU personally choose to interpret Calypso actions, she will always have a CANONICAL victim in the musical. I feel people are forgetting Odysseus when they speak on Calypso and that’s the whole point of her existence in the poem and the musical.

This leads directly into WHY there has been arguments about Calypso’s character. In the POEM, she very much sexually assaults Odysseus for seven long years. He is seen crying nightly and begging to be free. In the MUSICAL, Jorge has decided to leave the situation ambiguous - which, i have seen, does not sit well with current fandom culture. NEW fans of Calypso seem to be very adamant about NOT interpreting Calypso as a rapist, in levels that range for they’re just not comfy with it so decided not to head canon her as such, to other very concerningly speaking about rape survivors in such a way to justify liking a villain when you dont HAVE to justify liking a villain at any point at all ever.

Let’s break it down.

Those who just don’t like the idea of Calypso being a rapist in the MUSICAL are valid. It’s very easy to block and avoid those who have chosen to explore this aspect of her in the musical because they can and are allowed to. I am very pro-finding a space in fandom where you can talk about Calypso without HAVING to mention she might have raped someone. She’s still a villain for having kept Odysseus captive for seven years, but it’s not important. You are more than allowed to love villains, and without the rape aspect, Calypso’s villainy boils down to her physiological and emotionally torturing Odysseus while physically kidnapping him. That’s still ALOT of bad stuff to unpack, if you so want to. You could also not want to! It doesn’t hurt anyone, and anyone who says it does is not being intellectually honest.

The PROBLEM that I’m seeing, is that many of her newer fans…DONT want Calypso to be seen as a villain. At all. Which…is not how fandom works, I’m sorry to say.

While some EPIC fans have interpreted Calypso of being manipulative / selfish even in their most sympathetic analysis of the story (and the current song), others are treating these interpretation as wholly incorrect and somehow a form of harassment. The main caveat to this reaction appears to be, as TikTok puts it, “That Calypso DOESN’T SA Odysseus on the musical”

As we have pointed out, Calypso canonically rapes Odysseus in the poem, while it’s ambiguous in the musical. As we have ALSO pointed out, the ambiguity of the musical allow ALL INTERPRETATIONS to be correct. Something about the RAPE aspect of Calypso’s characterization in this musical, however, is the primary reason this discourse has happened.

Now, as i have said earlier. You are in your RIGHT to not head canon Calypso has a rapist in the musical. In the same vein others also have a RIGHT to head canon Calypso AS a rapist in the musical. But from what I’ve seen, it’s when others interpret Calypso as a rapist that newer Calypso fans leave comments about they’re not “interpreting the story correctly” and not “Judging calypso based on Jorge’s vision” and at first i found it funny…now it’s a bit concerning.

There are two instances that come to mind. One tiktoker made a video where she was in tears saying that it made HER SAD that people were “judging Calypso wholly based on outside sources material” which is disingenuous. As i have said before, even without the RAPE aspect of Calypso, which i will go further into what her newer fans consider “rape”, she is still an antagonist within the musical - she is a villain who keeps Odysseus against his will. To claim that they are calling her a villain for that reason alone is a blatant and useless addition to the discourse. I did not care for it at all. It would have been MUCH MORE constructive for this tiktoker to say that even though Calypso is a villain, the sexual assault is up to individual interpretation, and as all interpretations are valid, it’s better to find people who agree with your head canons rather than start fights with people who don’t share yours. This tiktoker very poorly worded the discourse as a one-sided thing where one side is wrong, and that is simply not true.

ANOTHER tiktoker, who wisely turned off comments because such discussions are impossible on the app, worryingly claimed that a line in Not Sorry for Loving You was absolute PROOF that Calypso did not “rape” Odysseus so it was wrong to interpret her as such, because, and this is a loose quotation “i don’t think Jorge would make Odysseus say something like that HAD Calypso done that to him” which unfortunately leaves fandom discourse into REAL WORLD victim discourse. Holy shit. The line she is referring to is when Odysseus calms Calypso down when she is in the middle of explaining her actions by saying “Calypso i love you, but not the way you want me to” to this tiktoker, it seems illogical for a rape victim to every say these kinds of things to their rapist…which is….NOT it. At all. Fiction, as beautiful as it is, is meant for you to QUESTION “huh…how would this impossible fictional scenario work? What makes this compelling?” It is NOT meant for you to attribute your REAL WORLD assumptions onto a FICTIONAL SCENARIO in order to justify you liking a villain character when you dont HAVE to justify it. You can like Calypso! It’s only weird when you make real-world comparisons like this because a rape victim can and HAS said as much and even more to their rapists in known history. *bonks you* dont do what this person did! Fiction allows you to explore situation that would be traumatizing outside of it in as safe and consensual way! You CANNOT and should NOT ascribe your personal biases on sensitive topics for FICTIONAL characters. That’s not how this works. “real victim wouldn’t x, so fictional wouldn’t y” is a ludicrous statement! You can’t back it up with facts! “Fictional victim does x, so i wonder if there ever would be a situation where a real victim would do y, and would like educate myself on the topic” IS what fiction was made for! OPENing your mind, not closing it for stupid reasons.

But it got me thinking. BECAUSE these fans anchor their arguments on the rape of Odysseus, even when they themselves DONT consider it, what exactly do they consider rape, and why is that ONE act Calypso may or may not do the ONLY reason to call her a villain when she is one, regardless.

Well, I’ve seen a lot of back and forth. Some anti-calypso’s are okay with the idea that Calypso is more of a “kissy-face” monster, a silly villain who, having no concept of what actual love is and what your supposed to do with someone you love, thinks hugging and kissing is the only thing on the table. It still makes this version of Calypso something of a sex pest and is still in line with sexual assault as we see Odysseus is miserable. The gravity of the situation is based entirely on funny fanfics to Odysseus canonically trying to kill himself because of Calypso’s affection. This interpretation (shockingly enough) is also hated by some new Calypso fans.

Because from what i have gathered. “SA” as used in TikTok, had been boiled down to a literal forced insertion of Odysseus’s dick in Calypso’s vagina. Not the literal words “sexual assault” which is an umbrella term for multiple things. But in this discourse “SA” has JUST been used for the ACT of rape itself. That is what new Calypso fans think is criminal. That is what they entirely base her villainy on. Because we will NEVER get confirmation on whether this happened, it’s impossible to engage with some of the newer fans, who dislike attributing Calypso with the villain title because of this one thing and this one thing alone. Any other line, from Calypso saying “and I’m sorry if i pushed you, or if i came on too strong” in her next song, or even her saying “in bed we will climb” is, for some reason, not grounds for others to be allowed to interpret her as, at the very least, assaulting Odysseus physically and sexually in a way without having to have actually raped him. It boggles my mind. Truly. But every argument i have seen has boiled down to the newer fans saying “welllllll, we dont know the context, and Odysseus said —“ when i have already explained that none of that matters. All interpretations are valid. You CANNOT say with certainty that she did or didn’t rape Odysseus. That’s the POINT. You can’t PROVE either, stop TRYING to, it’s YOUR choice and your interpretation can be backed by lyrics/official animatics, but it is hardly an absolute.

It has become a GROWING problem that in videos where Calypso is portrayed negatively, there are at least a dozen newer calypso fans who have to bring up how she is sympathetic, and therefore, not a villain. Which is not true. She is the MOST compelling villain in the epic musical, thus far.

These “fans” say that she absolutely didn’t rape Odysseus which is theory, not fact. And not a theory that can become fact. In the same way that saying she absolutely did rape is can not become fact. They appear to believe everything outside of this hypothetical act, nothing else she does is deserving of her title as a villain, and start arguments in non discourse posts about all the ways she’s sympathetic when it goes hand in hand with what makes her a compelling villain antagonist.

There’s also a newer cope saying that it’s all Zeus’s fault anyway, which has NO bearings on the conversation as, again, despite Zeus being a dick and allowing Odysseus live while not necessarily enabling him returning to Ithaca, it’s still up to Calypso on how she acts towards HER captive. And she straight up chooses violence lmao. Athena asks for “Devine intervention” to an impossible situation, regardless of if it was Zeus’s actions that led to it, it’s also up to him to “untie apprehensions” because Calypso, being a goddess, has complete control over whether Odysseus can leave and SHE won’t. She has to be ORDERD to. By a HIGHER power. Zeus.

Such argumentations as “well if YOU were in Calypso’s situation, wouldn’t you also do the same” are useless fallacies to get into, because you are NOT a goddess who owns an island and is in possession of a man who does not love you. Even if you were, guess what, it still makes you the antagonist. A villain. A knowing one or not.

In fact, since I LIKE interpretations that Calypso isn’t psychologically torturing Odysseus ON PURPOSE, i go as far as to say that her being a genuine goddess who wants love is in fact…..so much more painful, narratively. Because that means she is INCAPABLE of ever being a good person. Her loneliness and fear of being unloved makes her utterly blind to Odysseus’s misery. She HEARS him saying constantly that he misses his family, that all he hears are screams, and that SHE doesn’t know him, but she in turn CANNOT get passed this because she is, at her core, unable to, and thus accidentally triggers him constantly, is delusional about her island being paradise, AND convinces herself that her love is real (when it is not) and that Oddy will love her back if she keeps trying.

THAT is what you call a compelling villain!

As in all Calypso stories. There is NEVER a moment of clarity where Calypso realizes “if i actually love this person, i should let him go” in the musical HERMES is tasked in telling her to let him go. And she, as in all her other stories, goes on a tirade to explain/justify her actions, however you wish to see her being manipulative or honest. Regardless of how you choose to SEE calypso, at the end of the day, she has NO RIGHT to be upset at Odysseus because he was her captive. And REGARDLESS of whether Odysseus’s words are interpreted as him forgiving her, or just placating her, at the end of the day, he is her victim and she ends her next song upset that he is willingly leaving her once he got the chance. With absolutely no hope of him returning her feelings. It’s not his job to make her feel better, she IS an antagonist, and you are allowed to love her no matter how that might upset others. It is ONLY a problem when you take it to such extremes that you are in other peoples comments acting as if Calypso is a real person who needs defending. You are more than in your right to block people who come into YOUR videos accusing you of somehow being a bad person because you like a bad person. That’s not how fiction works.

Once again. My analysis of the Calypso debacle is that for some, calling Calypso a villain upsets them. Because they like her, and they are uncomfortable with the idea of liking a villain. This is a personal grievance that shouldn’t boil into fandom. Know your truth, have fun. You CAN make silly calypso videos. Many have. Her song is a bop, the meaning of the song is hilariously dark compared to the composition. Jorge did his job VERY well. Too well, that the idea of liking Calypso feels either / or when it’s not. TRUST that i would not be on the side of anyone who says “if you like calypso, youre evil”, but I HAVE seen a pattern that because Calypso is likable, than several people have made it their confused mission to tell everyone who is “mean to her” that “if you DISLIKE calypso, YOU are evil”. That’s bizarre to me. Calypso does enough evil actions in the musical to warrant that title regardless of the reasons for her actions, whether she is being purposely malicious or unconsciously so due to her lack of socialization. Being weird about real life SA survivors for a fictional character is never acceptable. For or against Calypso, whether she is a rapist or not, it is up to YOU to find like minded people who share your interpretation, not to argue with people who disagree with you in their own space. She isn’t real. Get over it.

ANYONE WHO HARASSES WAGNUI, COSPLAYERS, OR GOES INTO POSITIVE CALYPSO INTERPRETATION SPACES TO BE PURPOSELY MEAN* ARE WRONG. Otherwise. Leave them alone, they are as valid as you are. “Defending” a character is a waste of time when you could be creating for them. Calypso is a compelling villian antagonist regardless of how uwu or vile you choose to make her. Thus is the beauty of fiction.

(*purposely mean, would, logically, be someone calling you an idiot or a rape apologist for headcanoning her in a positive way. The ideal interaction with a negative calypso interpreter would be “i dont see her this way, but i understand/like your headcanon”)

WHICH BRINGS US TO Antinous:

Hilariously enough. Antinous has the complete INVERSE problem as Calypso, which was also detailed in her section for fairness sake at multiple points, and this problem is much easier to understand. Antinous is a villian antagonist in the musical Epic, and in his debut in the wisdom saga, he is shown (like calypso) to be in direct opposition to Telemachus and Penelope’s goal.

He alludes to sexual assault much more clearly than calypso. He calls Penelope a tramp to her son’s face AND suggests he let them into her room “so [they] can have fun with her” which is in the same vein as calypso saying “soon in bed we will climb” to Odysseus later on that “you (Odysseus) are mine all mine” in her own song. Like calypso, it is told to us that Antinous has been having this kind of vibe for FIVE YEARS* (a fan pointed this out to me! read here🙏🏼) as opposed to calypso’s seven years. Everyone is, usually, in agreement that Antinous is a villain in the wisdom saga and in the overall Epic musical.

Antinous’s VA is ON TikTok, and has spoken about how happy he is that fans consider him a talented person who did a spectacular rendition of such a villainous character. AND YET.

Inversely from what we saw in the Calypso section, where some of her fans are against the notion of her being portrayed as the antagonist she is, for Antinous we have MANY fans claiming that others are not ALLOWED to portray him as anything BUT an antagonist. Unlike with Calypso, where people circularly argue that her allusions to sexual assault are “too ambigous” and lead to much senseless debate on whether you’re “allowed” to like her or call her a villian, with ANTINOUS, there is this claim that he ABSOLUTELY is alluded to sexual assault and therefore, cannot be liked or treated as anything other than a villain.

As i have discussed AT LENGTH in Calypso’s section, this argumentation is pure fallacy.

There have been NUMEROUS thirst videos that have rightfully said that DESPITE the actions of the character, they still think Antinous is hot and likable (the Gaston affect, if you will). Even WITHOUT the disclaimer, it is OF COURSE understood that Antinous fans are NOT rape apologists. That is a ridiculous assumption that serves only to kill any interpretation that someone else can rightfully have.

It’s utterly devoid of nuance or actual knowledge of how to play within fandom and interact w characters.

There have been SEVERAL posts calling Antinous fans delusional for liking him and “reminding” the fandom that he is a bad guy. This serves no purpose and is utterly useless to the discourse. Antinous being a bad guy is not debated. This is factual. It doesn’t (or shouldn’t, because we cannot speak in absolutes) hurt anyone’s feelings to see an Antinous videos depicting him as the villain he is. Like with Calypso it is ONLY acceptable to call someone out if they are harassing Ayron Alexander, Antinous’s VA (which has NOT happened as i am writing this out) OR if an anti-Antinous comes into SOMEONE ELSE’s post saying anything like “if you like Antinous then you condone his actions” because as what we sane people know, that is just a silly fallacy, OR if they start shit in a cosplayers/fanfic writer/fanartists comment section.

Otherwise. Who cares that someone is saying Antinous is a villain? Block the no fun police and enjoy analysis from others who choose to see him purely as what he is, if you want. If you dont, block them to, it’s your space. You have a RIGHT to headcanon Antinous however you want, even make up AUs for him where he’s nice or lives and gets a happy ending, SO LONG AS you’re not in other people’s posts going actually Antie is my uwu child and he did nothing wrong. Cuz then youre just being dumb. And annoying. Fandom is already impatient with genuine disagreement, being a smart ass gets your head dunked in a toilet. I used to think this was common sense.

(And in case you didn’t read the Calypso section, or didn’t see enough of it there, this IS the appropriate response to people who address newer fans of her as rape apologists too, its in her section, i just also thought it was important to touch on the stranger phenomena of her other fans refusing to call her a villain because it makes them personally uncomfortable - it’s very interesting as Calypso is a female antagonist while Antinous being a male antagonist is being treated very differently for the same subject. In any case, it’s a disservice to either character and Jorge’s narrative to get upset about the very real fact that BOTH of these characters are villain antagonists.)

The very CURRENT discourse surrounding Antinous is that he was recently shipped with Telemachus.

The animator for Apollo’s section of God Games was harassed to such a point that she had to make a public apology regarding her ALTERNATE UNIVERSE scenario. And i, personally, think that’s bullshit.

There have been accusations that she was being insensitive to sexual assault survivors, and that she made a dark joke, all of which she addressed in her apology IN ADDITION to her explaining that she is ALSO a survivor of child sexual assault. She took down her work. DESPITE all of this, there are still others who continue to harass her, and claim that they dont want “a rape creator” in THEIR fandom. To those people: you don’t speak for any of us. In the same way you can claim not to believe that the animator is a survivor, i have no reason to consider your concerns in any way shape or form as being in service of victims. It is absolutely not your call, when blocking and scrolling on will ALWAYS be an option for YOU.

Even in the event someone writes Antonio’s fan fiction keeping his canon personality and characterization in a non-canon divergent way it is not grounds to harass people.

In addition to this animator, there have been SEVERAL Antinous shippers who have expressed disappointment that she was essentially harassed into a corner, as they also liked the ship and the AU she created. These people are NOT “weird” they are allowed to express themselves creatively, and if you disagree, dont even bother with leaving any sort of response — i wont read it, my time is important. Stay in your echo chamber. Even if it wasn’t an AU, and someone wants to write for Antinous as he is in the narrative, they are more than allowed to do so. Dark fiction isn’t going to traumatize you or give you cooties. Grow up.

I am MUCH more willing to ride with Antinous shippers than i ever will be with fans who attempt to control how a character is interpreted by others. Because to ship Antinous with anyone, AU or otherwise, you have to have an UNDERSTANDING of why this would be a compelling thing to write/make fanart for. He is an evil character, and it would be FASCINATING to see him in fictional scenarios that (like in the calypso section) lead us to as WHY this would be an appealing and interesting take on someone. It’s OKAY to do it in fiction. He isn’t REAL. It’s not hurting EVERYONE. And more so than with calypso, it IS understood that Antinous HAS victims in Penelope and Telemachus There’s no senseless debate on what he is, a villain, no one is arguing he is a uwu babygirl so please sympathize w him, it’s inherently understood even among his FANS.

This is why find Antonio’s and Calypso’s discourses so polarizing. Because no one is getting offended or arguing that Antinous only acts villainously because of some tragic backstory or sympathetic reason. It would be absurd to.

That’s the appeal of a lovable villain. Because like Calypso, Antinous IS lovable, but in such a different way that you have fans treating both characters as if they’re polar opposite when at the very LEAST, there’s on the same bracket, just different ends of them. Telemachus/Penelope and Odysseus’s plights are being MIRRORED in parallel.

THAT is what floors me about these two discourses. That they are functionally THE SAME yet are being treating as if they aren’t. I’m positive that there is an Antinous fan who detests Calypso in the same way there is a Calypso fan who detests Antinous. These are called biases. Once you KNOW your own bias, it is up to YOU to act right according to them.

You are responsible for your OWN fyp.

The Epic fandom had yet to experience such backwards discourse as this, and I wouldn’t expect Jorge or any of the VAs to dignify such trivial discourse with a response. If you’re the type to bring it up to them, you’re being awful. The popular fandom Epic tiktokers are already way too involved as it is. And even they are getting things wrong.

It almost feels remiss to say that in the NARRATIVE of the musical, both Calypso and Antinous are villian antagonists, while outside of the narrative they become dolls you can play with however you like, so long as we are not in each others comments being obtuse. I don’t expect any of my essay to even make it to a larger part of the fandom. But i HAD to get my ideas written down, because if you don’t see someone else connecting the dots you have, you have to present them yourself. Very “can’t we all just get along?” But hopefully, not as insufferable nor one-sides as others might have been. I tried to bring up ideas/points that i have not seen discussed about these two villains and why they seem to connect and go hand in hand.

Why is Calypso, as a female antagonist, given more grace than Antinous, a male antagonist, who is very firmly given none at all. It very well could be just how they were presented, and if so, ask yourself WHY these villains were presented so differently. What purpose do they serve? What are they trying to accomplish? These are questions more suited for actual fandom collaboration that is being drowned out by circular arguements. It feels like homework, instead of knee-jerk reacting to interpretations unlike your own.

To ME, these two characters are two sides of the same coin. (though I DO think it’s funny that the NEUTRAL phrase to refer to either character is “I hate them BUT” because in reasonable fandoms, this is understood inherently….but in this fandom such decorum seems to be lost? For some reason?? Wisdom saga has brought out a lack of wisdom, I fear.) This is the kind of purity culture that suggest you can’t LIKE a character of their a villain, so you go out of your way to argue they aren’t, or that no one else should like them: that’s bonkers. You might disagree and it might even upset you, but that’s a you problem to have.

Having said that, and if you are POSITIVE that you want to engage in conversation with me, you are welcome to do so.

#epic the musical #epic the wisdom saga #epic calypso #epic antinous #epic telemachus #epic odysseus #purity culture #the way calypso and atinous would both have identical sections if not for the fact some of her new stans refuse to accept she’s a villain #a hot villain!!!#bonkers to yonkers how liking villains is still a discourse issue lmao

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dragonmuse · 1 year ago

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How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer

I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.

Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).

What is a dirtbag fic writer?

I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.

Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it.

How do I dirtbag?

That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean.

Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries.

Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other.

And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT. I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens. We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.

Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on?

But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!

COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T.

Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay. If you don’t, let us continue.

What does dirtbag writing look like?

It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird. It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business.

It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.)

It has mistakes.

Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there.

What if I don’t get good feedback?

Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish) is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.

You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film, (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness.

And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it? Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too!

BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck.

You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?” Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye.

If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole. Fic is no different

And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT.

Ok, but what if I don’t finish it?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it’s bad?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it doesn’t make sense?

That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms?

Then someone out there probably needs it! And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY*

*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”

You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary.

I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape.

That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.

You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there.

Go forth. Make.

You have some errors in this essay.

PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT. But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).

#dirtbagwriter

Go forth and MAKE

#writing #i'm not an expert #I just have been doing this a long time #and these are my feels #please feel free to throw away this strawberry

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tiramisuucakeee · 16 days ago

Text

A VERY BAD REP, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN ★

( 420! reader x playboy! heeseung )

IN WHICH : at an exclusive private school in the city, where rich kids thought they ruled the place, heeseung finds out the girl who cheated off of him on an exam and could probably get him expelled, has an even worse reputation than him, and she doesn’t seem to care about what he thinks or says.

WARNINGS: drugs, sexual content. +18.

BTW: tried my best to represent my king fanon suna rintaro in y/n. i haven’t smoked in so long….. it’s been 30 years (2 weeks)….. i’m starting to forget the feeling (girl got sober) ….. ok so basically i dramatized everything cause it’s a fanfic okay, don’t think i take all the stuff i wrote pls and ew i wil never ever write smth like this again, i’m a fluff writer TT

WC: i aint counting allat

read more !

they say opposites attract, even in love, and for him, it’s always been true. he’s into quiet, delicate girls, the type who never speak up and just go with the flow. but no matter how sweet they are, heeseung drops them without a second thought, like they’re nothing more than a momentary distraction after getting what he wants from them. so how did he end up in a situation where it was him doing the chasing? he never really thought he'd have to, ever.

it was almost funny, laughable even. he, of all people, accused of copying on an exam? and now facing the possibility of being expelled if he didn’t find a way to make it right? it was the kind of mess he never imagined getting into.

yes, he was a player and toyed with girls’ feelings for his own benefit, but that was it, he would never dare to stain his behavior record and affect his reputation with the school. he knew his family would kill him if he did, they were the type to always put on a face for others and everyone thought they were this perfect little rich family of three, that went on the most expensive trips and could buy anyone and anything.

he could still remember the teacher’s harsh words blaming him for this. ‘miss y/n has an impeccable record of approved grades in my subject, while you, mister heeseung, barely scrape by. and in this exam, it’s your first grade above a 90. you both share the same exact answers, the same solutions. that leaves me to think you copied off her. i suggest you stop denying it and accept the punishment of suspension. if not, i’ll have no choice but to speak to the principal about expelling you from this school. and your father won’t be able to save you from this one again with donations.’

heeseung slammed his locker shut with a fury, the sound echoing down the empty hallway as the final bell rang. his mind raced, thoughts spiraling. what was he going to tell his family if he actually got expelled? his family reputation couldn’t fix this. the idea was unthinkable, impossible. he wasn’t about to let something he didn’t do ruin everything. he wouldn’t accept it. not without a fight.

he’d stolen the cheat sheet, that much was true. but copying off another student? he would never do that. he had his pride, after all. the problem was, he had no idea how you’d ended up with that paper. how did you get your hands on it? and why the hell had you not even thought about changing one single answer to be slick? his mind was racing, but he wasn’t about to let anyone think he was that stupid.

heeseung had never even bothered to look your way since you got to the school a year and a half ago in your leather jacket and sunglasses. your parents knew each other but you weren’t the type of person he’d ever hang out with. he did know about a guy having a fling with you, and honestly, it almost drove him insane. word has gotten out you had almost driven him to the point of seeking professional help to be sane. but that wasn’t even the worst thing said about you. even with your father’s reputation and money, you weren’t safe from being on people’s mouths as the daughter he never wanted.

what made everything even more difficult was that he had no idea how to make you admit it was you. he didn’t have your number, didn’t know anything about your schedule except for the one class you both shared. confronting you in person seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. he couldn’t risk you turning the whole thing around, making him look like the bad guy while you played the victim. it would be just his luck.

he had never felt so completely taken advantage of. it was always him who used people, who knew how to manipulate them into giving him exactly what he wanted. yet here he was, losing his mind over a girl he’d never even spoken to. it was ridiculous, and it pissed him off.

as the next day rolled around, he was still consumed by it. before the first period, he stood by the stone lion statue on the entrance of school, leaning against the wall next to jake and sunghoon, waiting for karina and wonyoung, as they mindlessly talked about a new prada backpack sunghoon bought yesterday. but heeseung’s mind kept drifting back to the mess with you, he tried to push it aside, focusing on the usual routine. still, the more he tried to forget, the more it nagged at him.

just as he was about to ask jake about you, since he always seemed to know everything about everyone, he stopped himself. no way was he going to ask his friend for help and look uncapable of solving things. he needed to figure this out on his own. instead, he turned his thoughts to how he could find you before the shared calculus class at the end of the day. he had to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

"heeseung!" a cheery voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts. he looked up to see karina dragging wonyoung along, both of them heading toward him, their little red-bottom heels clicking against the pavement. karina flashed him a big, playful smile and waved enthusiastically, her energy cutting through the tension that had been building all morning.

“damn it, it’s too early in the morning for this,” heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes as they approached. jake, who had been watching the whole scene with a smirk, nudged him in the ribs. “that girlfriend of yours, man,” he teased. heeseung just shot him a glare, clearly not amused.

the two girls made their way toward them, but just as they were about to reach the group, a loud, roaring engine cut through the morning air. before anyone could react, a sleek motorcycle zoomed in, blocking their path. the rider revved the engine once more, making it clear they weren’t going anywhere until they dealt with them.

"woah, what’s goin on?" sunghoon asked, clearly impressed by the person who had the guts to stop karina and wonyoung in their tracks. he wasn’t the only one taken aback. everyone was staring as the motorcycle came to a halt. little did they know, the rider was someone heeseung had been obsessing over all morning, someone who could probably ruin both karina and wonyoung’s face with just one single punch. the tension in the air shifted instantly, and heeseung felt his heart race, but not for his girlfriend’s safety, instead, for the person who rolled around.

the motorcycle she was riding was imposing, big, dark, and matte, with electric blue accents. the kind of bike that screamed power and danger. it looked like something straight out of a movie, designed to intimidate, just like its rider. there was a certain energy about her, something that made everyone around tense up instinctively. she didn’t need to say a word to command attention. her presence alone was enough to make even the most confident shrink back.

but they still stepped closer, followed by a crowd of other students who knew exactly who was under the helmet. everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

you pulled off the black helmet, letting your hair tumble out as the cold morning air hit your face, sharpening the already obvious irritation in your expression. there was an undeniable edge to your aura, something fierce and untouchable, like you thrived on chaos and didn’t care who knew it. the way you stood, calm but dangerous, with an almost predatory confidence, made it clear you weren’t here to play nice. karina glanced around, clearly uncomfortable in the middle of a confrontation she’d rather avoid, but she couldn’t deny what she had just done, not going unnoticed by you.

not letting her get the first word, you swung off your motorcycle, your movements sharp and deliberate. "you bitch, are you insane?" you shot at her, pointing a finger directly in her face. the students around you quickly scrambled, eager to capture what might turn into a full-blown fight. for the students watching, it was like something straight out of a teen movie. the popular ‘it girl’ of the school facing off against the infamous ‘bad girl’. a label you despised even more than the people who threw it around. the rich kids were convinced you were a bad person just because you got high 8 out of the 7 days of the week, dressed in black and liked to waste your money getting inked.

"what are you talking about?!" karina stammered, stumbling back as she grabbed wonyoung’s hand, who seemed ready to shrink behind her in panic. they both looked like dolls, dressed in couture clothing and expensive hair accessories.

you scoffed, the memory of what happened earlier still fresh. "don't play dumb with me," you shot back, eyes narrowing. "you're the one who threw food on the road to school from your little convertible. god, are you even intelligent enough to drive?!” karina’s face flushed with embarrassment, not thinking you would actually confront her like this, and for a moment, she looked like she might deny it. but instead, she opened her mouth. "well, i guess i should have thrown it at you then, instead of the road, since you always like to be dirty, don’t you?” she laughed, looking down at your worn out shoes, which were sluthered with mud.

"dirty?" you cut her off with a bitter laugh. "you want to talk about dirty?" your voice dripped with sarcasm. "i’m not the one with half of the school’s dicks down my throat, while embarrassing myself chasing a guy who, the only thing he likes about me is fucking, because it’s the only time i will stop being annoying, how ‘bout that?”

“well, it’s a shame that you don’t have a face pretty enough to even attract a normal guy’s attention. i have seen you hanging around with those shaggy and dirty stoner animals from your old school you call men, having sex in the middle of an alley, all high and out of their minds, huh,” she insisted, pointing at you up and down.

“you’re so full of shit karina, and it’s sad. as if you’d ever find someone that actually likes you, to listen to you talk for more than ten minutes.” you threw her a pitiful look. the students around you shifted uncomfortably, some of them glancing at each other as the tension in the air grew thicker. wonyoung, still holding onto karina’s hand, looked like she was about to step in, but karina pulled her back. “i don’t care what you think, i’m rich, i’ve got tons of friends and i’m pretty, and you have always been jealous of me, just what is your problem?”

you stepped closer, your gaze never leaving hers. “like i care about your dad’s money wash karina, don’t get too carried away, it takes more than money to make someone feel less than you,” you smirked, looking at her up and down. you stepped dangerously closer quickly, making her stumble back once again and shriek, gripping onto wonyoung’s arm even stronger.

“but it will pay your facial reconstruction bill if you keep fucking with me, got it?” you said quietly, but with a force that made the words hit harder than anything else. before she could snap back, wonyoung pulled at her sleeve, whispering something in her ear. karina hesitated, then exhaled a long breath. she wasn’t stupid, karina has seen what ‘kinds of people’ you hang out with, and how bad the other person gets out of a fight with you, she was always quick to insult you, but never to continue fully.

"okay, fine. you want to clean your little tricycle?" karina said, trying to act nonchalant, taking out a huge bill from her purse. "here, i don’t care, just go back to where you came from." you took the bill karina handed out harshly, splitting it in right in the middle, making her gasp, and look at the money falling on the ground, feeling totally humiliated.

not saying anything else, you turned back and mounted the motorcycle again, revving it in a way for the students around to step back, and open way for you to continue your morning, not daring to get in your way. you sped off, the roar of your bike fading into the distance of the parking lot. the boys lingered for a moment before finally making their way over to karina and wonyoung, concern written all over their faces. "you girls alright?" sunghoon asked, glancing at both of them.

karina shot him a frustrated look, her arms still crossed defensively. "yeah, whatever. i'm fine," she muttered, though her voice was tight. wonyoung stayed quiet, looking more shaken than usual, as if still processing the encounter.

the boys exchanged a few more words of reassurance, but heeseung barely heard them. his mind was miles away, consumed by the memory of you. your sharp words, your defiant stance, the way you’d made it clear you weren’t to be messed with. he couldn’t shake the image of you. he couldn’t let it go. not now. heeseung was used to being in control, used to getting what he wanted without a second thought. but you, you were different. there was something about you that made him want to find out more, something about the way you handled the whole situation that had him itching to confront you, face-to-face, but he knew he couldn’t, not unless he wanted to hear karina yell at him nonstop in a fit of jealousy.

"you good, man?" jake's voice broke through his thoughts, and heeseung looked up, blinking. "yeah," he said, trying to shake off the feeling. but deep down, he knew he wasn’t really fine.

as the day went on and classes shifted, lunch break came to an end, and before long, it was time for the dreaded calculus class. you sauntered to your seat at the back of the classroom, right by the window, and dropped into the chair. with a bored sigh, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through it without a care, eyes barely glancing up. it was weird seeing you stick around this long on a school day. usually, you’d slip out early or roll in late, and no one ever said a word. you never had too many absences, always acing every exam. and for that reason, the teachers didn’t question it, because you had this way of making it look effortless, like the rules didn’t even apply to you.

as the class dragged on, something landed softly on your desk, just a small note. you glanced over and saw the girl next to you, the one with the big round glasses, her eyes wide with nervous energy. the second you looked her way, she flinched, shrinking back into her seat. she quickly pointed to the guy sitting next to her, her face practically pleading for you to read whatever nonsense he’d scribbled.

you gave him a weird look, your brow raised in silent confusion, before you slowly unfolded the note, your fingers moving deliberately as if you had all the time in the world. it read, ‘what do you think you’re doing? why did you copy off of me on the exam?’

you snorted at the message, and instantly, the memory hit you. it was the first time you’d let yourself go, forgetting about grades, staying way too long at some random house drugging yourself with something new, until blackout, two days away from home in your ride. you hadn’t made it back in time to study, so you did what you had to do. you texted a contact at school to get you the test. lucky for you, he knew someone in your class who had managed to steal the cheat sheet, and just like that, you had it in your hands.

‘none of your business’ you wrote back, your fingers moving quickly as you folded the note and slid it over to the girl. she hesitated for a second, then took it from you, passing it to him discreetly like it was some kind of underground deal.

a few moments later, the note came back to you. you unfolded it, and your eyes scanned the words. ‘you have to admit you cheated off of me, i’m risking expulsion.’ as if you actually gave a damn about his risk. you shot him a cold glance, then made a subtle motion with your hand, signaling for him to follow you out of the classroom, while you carried your belongings, not planning on returning.

after a few seconds, he finally slipped out of the classroom, meeting you in the empty hallway. "hey, so i really need you to admit you cheated off of me, i could get suspended, even expelled, and i'm not willing to take that kind of punishment for you," he started, his voice full of desperation. but you didn’t let him finish. you raised a hand, cutting him off, and his words trailed off as he stood there, waiting for you to say something.

"i’m sorry, who even are you?" you asked, shaking your head, genuinely confused. "i’m still trying to figure out why you think i’d ever admit to cheating on a test for you." your voice was casual, like the whole situation didn’t even faze you.

"because you did," he said, his tone dripping with self-righteousness. "it’s the right thing to do. you need to get suspended for cheating off of me." he smirked, as if he was the one holding all the power now. "and if you don’t, i’ll just tell them i caught you fucking someone in the bathroom for the test answers or something. you wouldn’t want that, would you?" that made you laugh.

"okay, listen, mr. whoever-you-are," you said, raising an eyebrow, "i’m not doing shit for you. after all, it’s my word against yours, which i’m guessing doesn’t mean much, considering you're the one getting blamed for cheating." you leaned in, a smirk playing at your lips. "and as for the fucking thing? i’ve been caught plenty before. the worst they’ll do is throw me in detention. so go ahead, do as you please." you poked his shoulder, the gesture almost mocking. he stood there for a second, his smile fading as he processed what you'd said. you could tell he wasn't used to being called out like that, or having the cards reversed, but then he leaned in, his voice lowering, like he was trying to pull some kind of play.

"you know," he said, his tone smooth, "a pretty girl like you... you don't really want to be known as the one who got away with cheating. people would start talking, saying you’re not enough for a school like this, wouldn't they?" he stepped closer, his eyes scanning you like he was sizing you up, "but hey, i get it. you don't want to get caught up in more drama. maybe i can help with that... if you just admit it was you."

this couldn’t be happening, you just wondered how in the world did this guy not know of your reputation, he was embarrassing himself so much at the moment. no boys in school got near you for that exact same reason, and here he was, thinking he could word his way into manipulating you, as if you didn’t know how to play your own game. you were known for being this maniatic crazy bitch with a motorcycle, who hang out with ‘lowlifes’, knew how to fight and that was only useful to get drugs from, also probably slept around with teachers because they didn’t think you’re smart enough to study. you’ve been told so many things, that what he said didn’t even bother you.

you rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. "oh, so now you're trying to play the good guy card?" you laughed dryly, leaning against the lockers. "nice try, but i'm not some stupid girl you can sweet-talk into doing something."

he chuckled, clearly not giving up. "come on, baby," he said, his voice turning smooth and almost coaxing, "we both know you like the thrill of a little risk. how about we make a nice deal, you admit it was you, and maybe we... hang out sometime. you know, just us. could be fun."

you raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes again. "wow, really? you are so considerate of me, but no, i don’t want your reduce reuse recycled dick, i'm not interested."

he stepped closer again, trying to intimidate you, but you weren't moved. you just pushed him back with a lazy finger, eyes never leaving his. "you clearly don’t know what you’re doing, or even how to talk to me," you said, voice dripping with mockery. "i'm not impressed. i’ve seen your type a hundred times. and it's honestly fucking pathetic."

he frowned, his jaw tightening, but you didn't care. you weren't here for his tantrums. "seriously, you think this is gonna work on me?" you continued, your voice low and sharp. "you're the one who's gonna look stupid if you keep pushing this. i'm not gonna admit. and if you keep threatening me, we can always settle this another way, i’m sure you know how to fight with those big boy muscles right?" you squeezed his arm, making heeseung shudder, almost feeling a tingle.

you turned to leave, tossing him a final glance over your shoulder. "good luck, though," you added, your voice flat. "i'm sure your suspension month will be really fun." you tossed over your shoulder, voice dripping with sarcasm. "but don't worry, you probably already have a few girls your way to help you feel validated and accompanied."

heeseung just stood there, watching you leave and soon disappear onto another hallway, probably escaping classes. but that did not worry him, we couldn’t let himself worry over a girl like you. you would clearly never fall for his words. guys like heeseung, we’re almost like easy prey for you. too weak and easy, thinking they dominated the whole world, fucking around with girls, throwing massive parties and golfing every sunday with their dad. when in reality they probably didn’t know how to unclog a toilet.

they pissed you off so much, he pissed you off, and now your day was ruined. so almost two hours later, you found yourself on a complete different town to the south, entering an worn out house, kicking the door open. the house brought back many memories, too many. from when you lived here, and not back with your father, in a place you didn’t belong.

"who's here?" a slurred voice called from the kitchen, barely cutting through the thumping music. the place reeked of stale smoke and something sharper, like bleach or chemicals. dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the clutter, casting long shadows over cracked furniture and empty beer cans. scattered on the floor were people, sprawled in various stages of oblivion, some twitching, others motionless, all trapped in their own haze. the walls, stained and peeling, seemed to pulse with the low vibrations of the bass, as if the house itself was barely holding it all together. the house which was previously your mother’s, was now just a usual abandoned place that your friends utilized to hang out in.

"damn, this place is a mess. why didn't you wait for me?" you muttered, stepping into the kitchen. your friends were slouched around a grimy breakfast table, barely looking up as one of them finished snorting white lines off the edge. the counter was littered with crumpled pink blunt wrappers.

"yo! gigi, stop the music!" yeonjun shouted, sniffling as he shot up from his seat, stumbling a bit before he lurched forward to hug you. he almost tripped over his own mismatched-socks covered feet, but when he finally reached you, he inhaled deeply, as if your scent, clean and free of any substances, was a breath of fresh air in the chaos of the room. his grip tightened for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mix of relief.

"i’m not your bitch," giselle muttered, rolling her red-ish eyes as she leaned over to turn down the blaring music. her long acrylic nails clicked sharply against the plastic radio, the sound cutting through the tension in the room. she barely looked at yeonjun as she did it, her expression more annoyed than anything else.

you laughed at her comment, shaking your head, and then moved to hug her, pushing yeonjun off you in the process. he stumbled back, slightly irritated but too dazed to really react, while giselle’s stiff posture softened just a little as you wrapped your arms around her. her eyes flickered with something close to annoyance, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. you pulled away from giselle, giving her a teasing look. "so, what's the plan for tonight?" you asked, shifting your attention to the other strangers in the room, as they lazily got back to their own little worlds. yeonjun was still rubbing his nose, barely paying attention, while giselle just shrugged, taking a drag from her cigarette before flicking it into an ashtray.

“we’re hitting that party in the hill later,” she said, her voice flat but laced with anticipation. "gonna get crossfaded, maybe do a little more. jay’s been asking about you non-stop, by the way." she giggled. you raised an eyebrow at that, crossing your arms. "jay?" you repeated, a little surprised. you didn't think he’d be the type to obsess over anything, let alone you. "what does he want with me?"

she leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eye. "he’s obsessed you and your dumb tattoos. that night you two spent together? yeah, he can’t stop talking about it.” she paused, letting the words hang in the air like a secret. “guess he’s got a thing for you.”

you snorted, leaning against the counter, trying not to let it bother you too much. it was funny, people you’ve slept with always seemed to fixate on your exterior. but jay? he was a different story. you didn’t really care about whatever weird little crush he might have, though. he was now from a different crowd, and would never cross that line to be with you.

“he does know i changed schools right?” you said. your new school was a whole different world, elite, private, a playground for the wealthy and connected. kids with silver spoons, flashy cars, and tailored suits. a lot of them were insufferable, like karina, but you didn’t mind. it was easy to stand out, to be yourself in a place where most people just followed the rules. since your mother disappeared and your dad took you back, you’ve been placed in a world you don’t belong, and clearly don’t mind not belonging.

they had their porsche, you had your r7. they had private security, and you had your little hello kitty knife. but here, with giselle and the others? it was different. a lot more laid-back, the students knew how to have fun without all the airs and graces of your new world. they were down to earth, fun, and honest, none of the pretentious bullshit that came with being surrounded by rich kids. they had their flaws, sure, but you loved hanging out with them. it was like coming back home after a long trip to a hotel casino, where everyone was more concerned with status than actually living.

giselle noticed the shift in your mood and grinned, as if reading your thoughts. "i know, i know," she said, her voice softened, almost sympathetic. "but, hey, you're still cool with us. we don’t care about your new rich kid school. we’re just down for a good time."

"yeah, alright. i’m down. just don’t expect me to get too crazy, my dad’s expecting me before five am, he knows how shit goes here,” you let out a quiet sigh, glancing over at yeonjun who was now half-focused on his phone, tapping away furiously with his thumb. "so, i’m guessing you’ve already got the stuff lined up for tonight?" you asked, a smirk tugging at your lips.

he looked up at you, still slightly dazed, and nodded. "yeah, i texted my guy next door. he’s got everything we need. should be ready by the time we leave."

“don’t worry, i’ll go,” you didn’t need to ask twice. despite your better judgment, you were already used to this kind of thing. you pushed off the counter, giving giselle a nod. "i’ll be back in a minute, you both stop inhaling shit and try to sober up, i’m not a babysitter," you said casually, already walking toward the door.

"take your time, don't get too caught tho," she called after you, voice almost playful, but with that edge of concern. the door slammed shut behind you, and you stepped out into the cold evening air. it wasn’t far, the dealer’s place was literally next door, tucked behind a run-down convenience store that no one seemed to go into.

the door to the small house was already cracked open when you arrived. you knocked lightly, stepping back to make sure no one would spot you. a moment later, a guy with messy hair and a hoodie poked his head out, his eyes scanning you quickly before he motioned for you to come in. "yo, what’s up?" he greeted, his tone laid-back but sharp, like he had done this a thousand times before

“yeonjun sent me," you said, slipping inside. you didn’t need to say much, his face lit up as soon as you mentioned the name. yeonjun was a regular here, always popping in for one thing or another. the guy didn’t ask too many questions, which was fine by you. "right, right," he said, disappearing into a cluttered room at the back. you heard the rustle of plastic, the clink of glass. he returned with some small bags of pills in his hand, sliding them across the counter. "this should be good for the night. tell yeonjun he owes me. i threw a little present in there for you, pretty."

you nodded with a smile, taking the bag, your fingers brushing against the cool plastic. it was always the same, but you still hated the feeling of this whole transaction, sketchy, rushed. "thanks," you muttered, seeing a little extra, and slipping the bags into your jacket pocket before heading back toward the door.

"catch you later," he called after you, and you didn’t bother to respond.

as you headed back toward the house, the night started to feel more like a blur of its own, the sun setting into a canvas of dark and light colors.

when you pushed the door open again, giselle was already eyeing you, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. "got it?" she asked, and you gave a quick nod. "yeah, we’re good to go," you said, tossing the bags onto the table where yeonjun had plopped back down. he gave you a lazy thumbs up.

the party was exactly what you’d expect from a house like this, small, run-down, but buzzing with an energy that could only come from a group of teenagers living for the night. the kind of place where people got high, drunk, and fucked without any care in the world. the walls were covered in posters and graffiti, the floors littered with empty bottles and crumpled cans. music thudded through cheap speakers, competing with the chaotic chatter and the occasional shout of someone daring someone else to do something ridiculous or threatening to start a fight.

when you, yeonjun, and giselle arrived, the front door was wide open. keeho was standing there, practically bouncing with excitement, already tipsy from whatever he’d been drinking. his hair was an absolute mess, eyes slanted and tired-looking, and he had lipstick stains all over his neck, but his grin was infectious as he waved you over.

“yo, rich girl! you made it!” he exclaimed, his voice a little slurred, and he pulled you all in for a quick, sloppy hug. "was starting to think you forgot about me, we gotta get you three started!" without missing a beat, keeho grabbed a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka from the floor and shoved it into your hands, urging you to take a swing. his laugh was loud and carefree, and it felt like you were already swept into the madness. you hesitated for a second, but then shrugged and tipped the bottle back. the burn of the alcohol hit the back of your throat, sharp and bitter, but it didn’t matter.

giselle grinned and knocked back her own drink, wiping her mouth as she handed the bottle to yeonjun, who eagerly took a swig, his eyes already glazed over. keeho’s grin only widened, as if he had orchestrated some kind of victory. “hell yeah, let’s go!”

you all pushed past him into the house, the noise of the party almost overwhelming at first. in the main room, there were already people sprawled on couches, a couple of them making out in the corner, while others lounged around in various states of intoxication. the air was thick with the scent of weed and sex. “okay, so, knowing you yeonjun, hotboxing only in the basement bathroom, i don’t want to repeat what happened last month in my room,” keeho turned to your group with a serious face all of a sudden. yeonjun rolled his eyes and started arguing, and giselle joined in, making you leave the scene relentlessly.

as you wandered further into the house, you spotted jay almost immediately. he was leaning against the wall, a drink in his hand, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. the second he saw you, his entire demeanor changed, his gaze locked onto you with a sharp intensity, like you were the only person in the room. you couldn’t help but notice it. there was something almost obsessive in the way he watched you, his lips curling into a small but knowing smile. you weren’t sure if he was just drunk or if it was something more, but you knew he wasn’t just here for a good time. he was here for you.

“hey,” jay said as you approached, his voice low and a little too eager, like he was trying to hide just how much he wanted to pull you into his orbit. “glad you showed up. i wasn’t sure if you would.”

you raised an eyebrow and took the drink from him, taking a sip, already sensing the weird energy from him. "you act like i'm some kind of mystery," you said, your tone light, but there was a hint of warning in your voice.

jay just laughed, though it sounded a little nervous. he shifted, trying to get closer, but you didn’t exactly encourage it. "no, no. i mean, i was hoping you’d show up," he said, clearly not even noticing how desperate he sounded. "i don’t know. i just... i couldn’t stop thinking about you." his words hung there in the air for a moment, too heavy for what was supposed to be a casual conversation. you glanced away, trying to shake the awkwardness of it. he was just supposed to be a random hook up, and now he was obsessed.

"yeah, i’m too sober for this, i need a minute," you cut him off, shrugging his hand away, your tone sharper than you intended. the last thing you wanted right now was another round of jay following you around again. you managed to slip into the bathroom, the noise of the party muffled behind you. the moment the door clicked shut, you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the door for a second, trying to shake off the weight of jay’s attention.

reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone, hoping for a distraction. you had been waiting on a text from your motorcycle repair center all night, hoping they'd finally gotten back to you about the part you needed. just as you started scrolling through your messages, trying to ignore the distant thumping of bass and the muffled laughter from outside, you heard the bathroom door creak open behind you. before you could even turn around, you felt a hard bump against your shoulder, someone colliding with you unexpectedly.

"hey!" the voice was sharp, and the tone was ready to unleash a curse. but then, the voice shifted, a more amused, almost playful note creeping in. "wait, hold up, you're cute."

you blinked, turning to face the girl who had crashed into you. she was standing there, eyes still wide with what could’ve been irritation, but her lips were curled into a smirk now. she looked like she was about to say something more, but the words faltered when she took another quick look at you. she was a couple of inches shorter than you, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, with eyeliner that looked like it had been hastily done, smudging a little at the edges. she wore a worn-out band tee, black jeans, and had that 'i don’t care' attitude.

you raised an eyebrow, still holding your phone, but not making any immediate movement. "thanks," you said dryly, not sure if she was being sarcastic or genuine. “ryujin,” she continued, “and you are?”

“y/n, y/n l/n,” you introduced yourself, almost sounding too righteous.

“you good y/n?” she asked, her voice almost too soft, the kind of softness that could break you without a word. “fuck no, i lost my friends and i need to get high right now,” you laughed, running your hand through your hair.

“oh really?” before you could respond, ryujin was already in front of you, close enough that you could smell the alcohol on her breath, feel the heat radiating off her body. “i can help with that,” she whispered, and there was something about the way she said it that made your pulse spike. she was clearly offering something more than simple. she was offering you something you hadn’t tried before.

she reached into her pocket, pulling out something small, a needle. you froze, your chest tightening, but the pull was still there. you weren’t thinking. you were just so desperate, it would happen again, you would take something from a random hot person. the needle gleamed in her hand, sharp and cold under the dim lighting. you didn’t need to ask what it was, she didn’t need to explain. you could already feel it, the ache of wanting something to take you somewhere else, to make this noise in your head stop. you were sick of it.

her eyes flicked to yours, dark and knowing, like she could see straight through you. "you sure?" she asked, but there was no question in her voice. it was more like a dare. your breath hitched, your heartbeat louder than the music. you looked at her, and for a split second, everything felt still. her eyes held you captive, like she was waiting for you to decide whether to break or not. and then, without saying anything, you nodded.

she didn’t hesitate. one swift motion, and the needle was at your arm. the sting was sharp, more real than anything you’d felt. the rush of it hit you instantly. a sudden heat spread through your veins, like fire lacing under your skin. the world around you blurred, the noise fading into the background. you felt something.

it was almost too much to handle, too quick. your body jolted with the rush of it, the sense of floating, of being untethered from everything. and then, before you could even catch your breath, ryujin was kissing you. it was hard, messy, raw. her lips were insistent, pulling you deeper into the chaos, as if she was swallowing every ounce of your pain. it wasn’t gentle, it was desperate. like she wanted to take everything from you and leave you empty, but at the same time, filled.

you kissed her back, caught in the haze, your body responding before your mind could catch up. the high was creeping in fast, too fast, but it felt good. it felt like everything was finally softening, the noise, the pressure, the expectations, all of it was dissolving with every second that passed.

when she finally pulled back, you were breathless. the world was spinning, but in a way that felt almost right, like you weren’t out of control, but floating in some kind of blissful wreckage. “that’s better,” she whispered, her voice low, smoky, and satisfied. “kissing makes you not feel how much this bitch hurts,” she laughed “or so i’ve been told.”

you just stared at her, too buzzed to say anything, but feeling a kind of calm you hadn’t known in what felt like forever. the pain was gone now, swallowed by the buzz, the heat, and the way she looked at you. like you were both on the edge, and neither of you cared whether you fell off. the rush from the needle still pulsed through your veins as you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a bit unmoored, like your body was drifting through space. the party felt louder, the music a distant thump in your chest. everything was hazy, like you were floating, and the crowd around you seemed to blur, their faces indistinct. you were just moving.

without thinking, you found yourself at the center of the living room, where bodies pressed against each other, the air thick with sweat and smoke. you let the beat pull you in, letting go of the last vestiges of control. you didn’t care anymore, about anything, anyone. you just moved, your body responding to the rhythm like it had a life of its own, and for the first time tonight, you felt alive.

you danced with strangers, faces you didn’t recognize, their hands on your hips or shoulders, the energy bouncing between you all like an electric current. their movements were reckless, free, and somehow, it felt like you belonged here, in the middle of this mess. the high made everything feel vivid. intense. like every touch, every glance was magnified.

a guy leaned in close, his breath warm on your neck. you didn’t pull away, letting him get close enough to whisper in your ear. you could barely understand what he was saying, but his hands were on your waist, tugging you closer. you let him, lost in the sensation of being wanted, of not caring what anyone thought. your body was moving like it was made for this chaos. you didn’t think. you just felt.

the music shifted, the bass pumping harder, and for a moment, everything became a blur of neon lights and sweaty bodies, spinning like a dizzying cyclone. you let yourself get swept up in it, lost in the noise and the movement, until you couldn’t keep up anymore. the energy in your legs started to fade, your body heavy and tired. you were buzzing too much to care, but eventually, your feet were no longer dancing, just shuffling you toward the edge of the room.

you stumbled to a couch, sinking into the cushions with a long, relieved sigh. the room around you seemed to shift, the music muffled now, everything distant, like you were underwater. you tried to keep your eyes open, but the pull of exhaustion was too strong. you just couldn’t fight it.

your head sank into the back of the couch, and in a matter of seconds, you were out, completely, utterly gone. the noise of the party continued around you, but you were far away now, floating in the quiet of your mind, somewhere where nothing could touch you. the high, the spinning, the chaos, it all faded to a distant hum. you were weightless, drifting in nothingness, as everything slipped away.

you woke up the next morning to the harsh sound of someone shouting, the words barely making sense at first. “everyone get up and get the hell out!” keeho’s voice rang through the room, piercing the fog of sleep that still clung to you. blinking, you squinted at the blinding light creeping through the window, the ache in your head reminding you of just how much but so little had happened the night before. and you tried to suppress the feeling of vomiting.

you barely had time to process everything when keeho appeared at the door, his eyes wide in sudden panic when he saw you sitting there, a disheveled mess on the couch. “wait... you’re here? yeon and gigi were crazy looking for you last night,” he stammered, clearly flustered. you could tell he hadn’t noticed you before, hadn’t realized you’d passed out here.

“yeah, i think someone gave me dope, ‘m not sure,” you muttered, trying to shake the sleepiness from your mind. “could use some clothes though. i didn’t exactly plan on crashing here and i gotta get my ass to school or my father will actually kill me.”

keeho nodded quickly, his face flushing in embarrassment as he glanced around the room like he didn’t know where to look. “yeah, yeah, no problem. i’ve got some stuff, just go to my room. there’s a drawer with girl clothes from... you know. just grab whatever.” he gestured to the hallway.

you stood up, a little unsteady on your feet, and made your way toward his room. it wasn’t far, but the house felt like a maze now, the remnants of last night’s chaos still hanging in the air. the stale scent of alcohol and smoke clung to everything, and you could hear people stirring, mumbling groggily as they shuffled about, trying to piece together the aftermath of whatever they did.

keeho’s room was a mess too, clothes and half-empty bottles scattered across the floor, papers crumpled on his desk. you spotted the drawer he mentioned and pulled it open. inside, there were a mix of clothes, some definitely not your style.

you pulled out a small crop top, the fabric soft against your skin as you slipped it on. the shirt hugged you in just the right way, but the way it exposed a sliver of your tattoos on your side gave you an odd sense of power. something about the ink on your skin made you feel more present, more you, even in the haze of everything that had gone wrong in the last month, not listening to your brain. you quickly grabbed a pair of athletic shorts from the drawer, the fabric light and comfortable, though they were a bit tight on your hips. it didn’t matter. you weren’t here to impress anyone.

you didn’t know what you were expecting to feel in that moment, but it certainly wasn’t this. it was a weird mix of exhaustion and emptiness, and so thirsty. but at least you weren’t in yesterday’s clothes. stepping out of the room, you took a deep breath, preparing to face the aftermath.

keeho was still in the living room, shouting at people to get out, his tone half-annoyed, half-caring, like he was trying to maintain some level of order in the madness. he saw you and gave you an awkward wave. “yo, you good?” he asked, trying to act casual.

“yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “where’s the exit?”

keeho pointed to the door and went back to yelling at whoever was still sprawled on the couch. you weren’t in the mood for much interaction. just get out. get back to the north. you walked toward the door, weaving through the mess of bodies and vomit. the cool morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, the bright sun already making the world feel like it had reset itself. everything was sharp, clear. the chaos of the night felt distant now, as if you were waking up from a bad dream.

you tried not to think about it as you walked away from the house, the reality of last night still buzzing in your head. you pulled out your phone and called an uber, the cool screen a brief distraction from the foggy mess of your mind. as you waited for it to arrive, you kept thinking about the night. about the haze, the people, the weird feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. you needed to forget it, or at least stop accepting drugs from friendly girls in bathrooms, you had to stick to smoking-only, or your body would end up on the cover of a newspaper with a bad name. you slid into the back of the car when it arrived, the familiar hum of the engine lulling you into a kind of dull trance as you made your way back to the city.

the ride was quiet, a smooth hum of traffic and soft music in the background. it didn’t take long to get back to the luxurious academy, but as you stepped out of the car and walked through the heavily guarded gates, you could feel the eyes on you. people were already filing into the backyard tables for lunch, and you were late, again.

you didn’t care, though. you didn’t care about anything right now. the school was a blur of clean clothes and sharp faces, everyone looking polished and perfect, the exact opposite of how you felt and looked. you ignored the stares, walking past a couple of your classmates who were giving you the side-eye, their whispers barely audible over the din of voices. but you could feel the weight of it. the judgment. the fact that you weren’t exactly like everyone else here, and they knew it.

you made your way to the lunch hall, where your only acquaintance was already sitting, glancing up as you walked in. chaeryeong’s eyes flickered between you and the time. you slid into the seat across from her, barely noticing the food she'd saved for you. you didn’t have the energy for the usual small talk or the smiley faces she always wore.

“are you okay, y/n?” chaeryeong asked softly. you still couldn’t figure out why she stuck around. maybe it was because you’d protected her in some way, kept her safe from karina and her ridiculous mean girl act. chaeryeong was too kind, too good-hearted. she didn’t deserve any of that. you nodded without thinking, just going through the motions. you took a bite of the sandwich, but the food was tasteless, like everything else was. somewhere deep down, you knew you had to get your shit together, but for now, it was easier to keep pretending that everything was fine.

the real reason why you started being even more reckless than before was simple. you missed her. and you hated yourself for it, for missing your mother, the one who abandoned you a year and a half algo. a part of you wanted to believe this was all a plan for you to move in with your rich father and get yourself a place in society, but deep down you knew she found another family with one of the hundreds of men she slept with every night to be able to pay rent. not like you were actually hurt, though. everything you did, every choice you made, was for her. you liked to think she was in a better place now, not living off of selling herself. in your mind, you had to be your best version, just for her. not for that father you have, which was the first one to actually leave, after hearing the news of your mother being pregnant with you. but karma got him, and now he was stuck with you.

he just lets you be, lets you invite your friends over and make a mess. after all, he has maids to clean up after you. but you weren’t about to be that much of a burden, which is why you pushed yourself to excel academically. your mother always said, ‘every single person is a nobody, no matter how rich or poor. the only thing that makes us different is our drive to be better for ourselves.’

you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a little too much force. "i'm going for a smoke," you mutter, barely looking at chaeryeong. before she can say anything and tell you how drugs are ruining you, you’re already heading out of the cafeteria, your steps quick and determined. you make your way to your locker, your fingers fumbling slightly as you pull out a couple of blunts, the familiar smell of them grounding you.

sliding past the neat hallways, you cut through the back of the school, where the gym equipment is stored, away from the eyes of teachers and nosy students. it’s quiet here, the air thick with the scent of rubber and old wood. you light up without hesitation, the first drag hitting your lungs like a small relief. for a moment, it's just you, the world outside fading into the background. you then take a slow hit, the smoke filling your lungs again, and for a second, it feels like everything slows down. you exhale, watching the thin trail of smoke twist and curl in the air before disappearing. the taste is bitter, but it doesn’t matter. it’s the quiet and that’s important right now.

until it wasn’t. from the corner of your eye, you catch movement, footsteps crunching against the gravel. you look up, and there he is, the guy from yesterday. the same cocky grin, the same aura of someone who’s too used to getting what they want. he was dressed in a faux-fur jacket.

“what the hell…” you watched him get closer, his nose slightly scrunching at the smoke coming out your mouth.

"looks like we started on the wrong track," he says, leaning against the chain-link fence with that insufferable smirk still on his face. "name’s heeseung," he adds, like you should be impressed.

you blink, connecting the dots in your head. heeseung. the rich kid. the usual playboy. and then, it clicks, he’s with karina. the thought hits you like a cold splash of water. of course. he’s here because of her. to bribe you, maybe, or to mess with you, make you look bad in front of everyone. you exhale, the smoke swirling between you as you size him up. "what d’ya want?" you ask, your voice flat, not bothering to hide the growing annoyance.

he wrinkles his nose, taking in the air like he’s just stepped into a dumpster. "really smells like shit here, and you look even worse," he says with a disgusted chuckle, glancing around like he’s considering whether or not to leave. you can’t help but laugh, the sound rough but genuine. ‘he really is a piece of work,’ you think, watching his discomfort. without missing a beat, you take another hit, leaning back against the wall as you blow out the smoke. "maybe it's just you," you say with a smirk, your voice teasing but cold.

heeseung raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response, but you can see the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. he’s not as untouchable as he thinks. heeseung’s eyes flicker down to your exposed arms and stomach, the tattoos that snake along your skin, and you catch the shift in his expression. he’s staring, but it’s not the way he was a second ago, this is different. "did those hurt?" he asks, his tone almost tentative, like he’s unsure if he should even ask. you raise an eyebrow, glancing at him like he’s just asked the dumbest question in the world.

you stare at him for a long second, then pull in a slow breath. "what do you think?" you say, deadpanning. "of course they did." he blinks, suddenly awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. "right. uh..." he trails off, his gaze flicking around like he’s trying to find something else to say.

"are you cold?" he asks finally, his eyes narrowing slightly at your lack of layers. you’re barely dressed for fall, your shirt thin and your shorts almost too small for the weather. the chill in the air seems to be getting to him more than it’s getting to you. you snort, the sharp edge of your laugh cutting through the tension. "worry about yourself," you mutter, pulling another drag. it’s not like you were cold, it’s more that you weren’t going to admit it to him.

he watches you for a moment, brow furrowed, clearly not buying it. his eyes flicker between your face and the way you’re standing. "yeah, okay," he says, though it sounds more like he's humoring you than agreeing. heeseung takes a step closer, his hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie as he looks at you with a mix of concern and reluctance. "you know, if you really aren’t fine, i could always-“ he cuts himself off, glancing away for a second, as though considering something before shaking his head. "never mind. it’s not that cold anyway, right?"

“stop trying to make small talk, hedeun-“

“it’s heeseung,” he interrupted, visibly bothered at you getting his name wrong.

“it’s whatever, just tell me what you want, i don’t like spending much time with people like you,” you sighed. “what are you really here for?”

“i heard you sell,” heeseung started, making you let out a loud laugh. “if all you wanted was to smoke, you could’ve just asked me to share, i’m not a monster,” you extended your blunt towards him, but he declined. “i also heard about your mother, and about your old school, and everything about it,” he swallowed, nervously fiddling with his hands, contradicting with his harsh exterior. you raised an eyebrow, the edge of a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth as you listen to him, the words rolling off his tongue with a strange mix of nervousness and something else, like he’s trying to explain himself but doesn’t really know how. it’s not exactly what you expected, but it’s almost worse.

"is that so?" you reply, voice flat but laced with a quiet venom. you cross your arms over your chest, leaning back slightly as if the conversation doesn’t deserve your full attention. "so, you did all this… research on me, huh? i bet everyone had a lot of nice things to say." it was a weird situation, when you changed schools, all the girls were all over you, excited for a new girl, but as soon as they saw who you were, they escaped, not wanting anything to do with you besides get some smoke and pills.

you couldn’t blame them, you didn’t want to hang out with them either. but karina stayed, until you made the ‘mistake’ of dating the guy she liked at that moment, and since then, she made the promise to destroy your life, if only she could even try.

he seems to falter under your gaze, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment. "i just... i wanted to understand. i wasn’t trying to judge you or anything. i just..." he rubs his hands together, clearly uncomfortable. "i guess i just thought it’d make sense to know who you are before, well, before we talked again."

you can feel the sharpness in the air, his attempt at an apology or explanation almost laughable. you don’t need his pity. “so, you went and found out about me. what now?”

he looks up at you, a bit of guilt coloring his expression, but it’s hard to tell whether he’s more upset about the fact that you’re not impressed, or that his research didn’t give him the right answers. "i just-" he stops, rubbing the back of his neck again, looking more like a kid who’d gotten caught in a lie than a guy trying to make amends, secretly trying to manipulate you. "i didn’t mean to come off like that. i just... i don’t know how to read you."

your eyes narrow, sizing him up. "well, you can start by not making this about me. whatever you think you found out, that’s your problem." you tilt your head, voice going a little colder. "you’re not the first to assume shit about me. and everything i told everyone on this place about me, is barely the surface, so you can do with that what you want. but i’m not here for your guilt trip."

for a moment, it looks like he might say something else, but he just bites his lip instead, clearly unsure how to break through the wall you’ve just put up. and you’re fine with that. heeseung had no idea why you were being so hard. why he couldn’t get to you like he could with other girls. for some strange reason, he seemed drawn to you, almost as if you were here to save him from the horrible destiny that it is to be with karina. but you didn’t seem the slightest interested in him. and he hated that. he hated the fact that he felt like you were unconsciously pulling him in, but he couldn’t do the same to you.

only, that he could. and he was doing it. you could see it in his eyes, the sparkle for the unknown, you were almost an escapatory for him. from his rich kid, player, facade or maybe his own true personality. you felt the extreme change in demeanor he had since talking to you yesterday, after realizing you weren’t like the girls from his school. he seemed way more open today, and way more relaxed. but you weren’t about to be his little side distraction in his perfect, cushioned life. you weren’t just some novelty.

"good conversation, heeseung," you muttered, clicking your tongue as you stubbed out the blunt against the cement wall you were leaning on, then started to walk away. before you could get too far, you heard him call after you. "hey, wait up!"

you turned back to find a faint desperation in his eyes. "sunghoon's throwing a little something tonight, and i know you don’t usually hang with people like us, but you should come. we might need some of that stuff you’ve got." he gestured to the blunt in your hand. it was almost endearing, how he treated something so simple like it was a secret, like it was taboo. the gap between you two seemed clearer than ever.

“i’ll make sure to get you something good, i hope you can handle it,” you gave him a small smile. heeseung watched you walk away, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. he was used to girls like karina, who flattered him, who followed him, who played by the rules of his world. but you? you were something else. something he couldn’t quite figure out. he didn’t know why, but something about you made him feel off-balance.

‘you’re not an escapade. you’re not just some distraction,’ he thought to himself, eyes narrowing in confusion. you’re different. something about you. you could ground him. he didn’t know what it was. it wasn’t just the exterior, the rough edges, or the way you didn’t give a shit about his family name or his money. it wasn’t just the way you made him feel like he wasn’t the center of the universe for once. it was everything. the way you looked at him, like he was nothing special, like he was just another guy in a long line of guys who thought they could buy their way into your life.

“but i’m not like them,” he whispered, his jaw tightening, for some reason, he felt as if your opinion about him mattered, as if it would validate him and differentiate him from everyone. his fingers itched as he replayed the way you shut him down, how you were so effortlessly cold, so indifferent to everything he usually took for granted. it drove him insane, but in a way that made him want more.

heeseung's thoughts were interrupted as he heard footsteps approaching. he turned, and there she was, karina, dressed in her usual sleek, effortless luxury. she was all polished skin, perfectly pressed clothes, and a kind of beauty that seemed more crafted than natural. every strand of her hair was in place, her makeup impeccable. she was the kind of girl who seemed born to be admired, the kind who could walk into a room and instantly own it with just a smile. "there you are, baby," she said, her voice smooth and warm, but with an edge of impatience. "i've been looking for you everywhere." her eyes flicked over him, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her lips, probably because she found him standing alone. she wasn't used to seeing him like that. the usual crowd of hangers-on was missing.

heeseung barely acknowledged her greeting, his mind still half on you, half on the uneasy tension you left behind. "yeah, here i am," he replied, his voice distant, distracted. karina raised an eyebrow, noticing his disinterest. “what's up with you? you look like you're a million miles away.” her tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent of concern, or maybe just curiosity. he wasn’t acting like himself, and karina was used to having his full attention.

heeseung felt the instant need to go back to his facade, and gave her a smirk. “i’m just thinking,” he shook his head. karina’s eyes narrowed slightly. "thinking about what?" she asked, as if she wanted to understand what had him in this strange mood he changed all of a sudden. he hesitated, looking off into the distance, towards the empty tennis courts. he didn’t want to bring you up, but something in him pushed him to. "actually," he started slowly, "i’ve been wondering... why do you hate that one girl, y/n, so much?"

karina’s eyes flickered briefly, a subtle shift in her expression that heeseung didn't miss. for a moment, he saw something, just a flash, of discomfort in her gaze, he had been around enough girls to start to notice things like this. it was fleeting, but it was enough to make him pause. she straightened, regaining her composure almost immediately, but he could tell. ‘she’s jealous,’ he realized. not just of you, but of the fact that he was talking to her about you. about you, and not her.

karina stiffened, but only for a second. the smile on her face didn’t falter. ‘it’s fine,’ she thought, ‘don’t overreact. he’s just talking about her because she’s interesting. he’s not actually...’ she couldn’t quite finish the thought. she didn’t want to risk making a scene, not when she was so close to keeping things exactly the way they were. she needed him. she couldn’t let you take him away from her. so she would do her best to portray you as someone horrible.

"i don’t hate her," she replied after a beat, her voice a little too controlled. "i just don’t get her."

heeseung raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by her attempt to deflect. "you’re not fooling me," he said, his tone soft but insistent. "you don’t like her. why?"

karina let out a quiet sigh, her gaze shifting down, away from his eyes. she was debating whether or not to say what was really on her mind. finally, she spoke, her voice low. "she just… waltzes into any group, any situation, with that awful motorcycle and a hand full of drugs, and everyone loves her. no effort. she doesn’t have to try. and i hate that."

heeseung frowned, confused. "what do you mean? i don’t get it."

karina’s eyes flickered with something darker now, the frustration seeping through her composed exterior. "i mean, i work for everything. i work for people’s approval, for their attention, for their affection. i have to try, i have to be the right kind of person, say the right things, look the right way. and then she shows up, all… whatever she is, and everyone just falls over themselves for that druggie. no trying. she doesn’t care about any of it, and still, she gets everything." her voice grew harder, colder, as if she was speaking from experience. "it’s like she doesn’t even have to try, and that’s what pisses me off."

heeseung couldn’t help but study her face, watching the jealousy simmer in her eyes. it was subtle, almost masked by her cool demeanor, but he could see it now, clear as day. karina was used to being the one people admired, the one people worked to impress. and you, someone who didn’t play by any of the rules, someone who didn't care, had that same magnetic pull, without any of the effort. and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

karina stiffened, her lips curling slightly. "that’s exactly the problem," she snapped. "she doesn’t belong here, and she thinks that just because her father finally acknowledged her, and suddenly she’s super rich, she can act however she pleases. but it’s not like that."

the thought made him uneasy, but he didn’t show it. instead, he shrugged, his gaze drifting back to where you had disappeared. "i don’t think it’s the money," he muttered, almost to himself. "i think she just is. and maybe that’s what makes her different."

karina didn’t respond. she simply stepped closer, closing the distance between them, but he could feel the slight shift in the air, the way her usual easy confidence had faltered, just a little. "whatever you say," karina finally said, forcing a smile back onto her face. "but just remember, she’s just a low life addict, that’s all she is, and will ever be. you don’t want to get too close to someone like that."

heeseung didn’t meet her eyes. instead, his gaze lingered on the spot where you had walked away, and the words from earlier replayed in his head, the ones that had stuck with him the most, ‘i hope you can handle it.’

later that night, heeseung found himself at sunghoon’s house, though his mind was somewhere else entirely. the mansion was alive with the thumping pulse of bass-heavy music, laughter, and the clink of bottles being passed around. it was the kind of party sunghoon always threw, lavish, high-energy, packed with people who were either too drunk to remember their names or too wealthy to care about anything else. people were dancing in the living room, some on the massive leather couches, others sprawled across the marble floors, playing some ridiculous drinking game. it was a familiar scene, people letting loose, showing off, and pretending to forget the rules for a few hours.

but none of that mattered to heeseung right now. he was standing off to the side, leaning against a wall, a drink in his hand but barely touching it. his mind kept drifting back to you, the way you’d walked off earlier, the way karina’s words had lingered in his head. there was something about you that gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight would be the night that would reveal something important.

he didn’t even know if you’d show up tonight, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. would you? would you show up, walk through the door with that effortless confidence, and completely flip the energy of the room without even trying? it wasn’t even about impressing people. it was the way you didn’t need to try. you just were. and it was like you could walk into any situation and make everyone else’s chaos feel like it was secondary to you.

he tried to shake it off, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check for something. nothing. his friends were blowing up the group chat, but none of it caught his attention. it was a flurry of photos, plans to leave with a girl, someone complaining about the music being too vulgar, but nothing about you, because you weren’t part of his life. maybe that’s why he kept looking around the room, scanning the crowd, hoping, wishing that you would suddenly appear, even though he knew he was being ridiculous. you probably wouldn’t even care about coming to a place like this. too many people trying to impress each other. too much pretending.

he threw back the rest of his drink on one of sunghoon’s exotic plants, setting the glass down on the nearest table, feeling his mind drift further from the party. he leaned against the wall again, the chatter and music blurring into the background, but his focus remained fixed on the front door. he kept wondering if you'd walk through it.

across the room, jake appeared, grinning wide, holding up two shot glasses. “heeseung! come on, man, stop moping in the corner and have some fun.” he raised his eyebrows, urging him over. heeseung waved him off, still distracted. “i’m good. just got a lot on my mind.”

“yeah? don’t let it ruin the vibe, dude. you’re at a party, not a therapy session.” jake clapped him on the shoulder and turned away to rejoin the crowd. heeseung’s eyes flicked over to the front door again, and he felt that familiar twist in his stomach. ‘she’s not coming,’ he thought, but the doubt lingered. the weird hope that maybe, just maybe, she would show up. ‘she doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t want to belong here,’ he told himself. this world’s not your scene. but that thought only seemed to make him want to see you even more.

for a moment, he wondered why he cared so much. why was he fixated on whether you’d show up or not? it didn’t make sense. he barely knew you, and yet everything about you felt like a puzzle he had to solve. and now, standing in the middle of this extravagant, noisy party, he felt that pull again, the one that made him question everything, including himself.

he glanced at the door again, half-expecting to see you walk through, but nothing. just the same crowd of people, laughing and drinking, playing their games. maybe you didn’t care about these kinds of parties. maybe you didn’t care about any of this at all.

heeseung pushed through the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, escaping the chaos of the party. the cool night air hit him like a splash of water, and he took a deep breath, trying to clear his head.

the backyard was quieter, but his mind was still buzzing. he was leaning against the brick wall near the pool when he spotted karina on the other side of the yard. she was laughing, leaning into some guy with slicked-back hair, a smile too perfect to be genuine. the guy was clearly into her, his hand resting a little too comfortably on her waist, but karina didn’t seem to care. she was toying with him, teasing him, her eyes glancing over at heeseung for only a second, as if she was trying to make him jealous, but he wasn’t bothered.

heeseung didn’t care. not tonight. the sight of karina flirting with someone else didn’t stir anything in him. he didn’t even feel a spark of jealousy of that guy not being him. it was strange, but in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about you, about how you didn’t fit into this world at all, and yet, you seemed to have more of an impact on him than anyone else in the room.

he was about to turn back to search for jake, when the sound of raised voices cut through the air. it wasn’t just loud, it was intense.

he turned, his curiosity piqued, and followed the noise toward the front of the house. he didn’t know what was going on, but something told him it wasn’t good. as he rounded the corner, he saw the commotion, a guard-like guy, probably hired by sunghoon, was blocking the front door, holding his hand out like a wall. and there, standing just a few feet away from him, were you, fuming, your hands raised in defiance, and your expression unreadable but full of fire.

heeseung’s heart skipped a beat. he couldn’t believe it. you were actually arguing with the guy, not giving a damn about the way he stood there like he owned the door.

“i can’t let you in. you’re not on the list mr. park provided,” the guy was saying, his voice deep and dismissive, clearly not taking you seriously. you, however, didn’t care about his rules or his attitude. "i don’t care if i’m on that fuck-ass list or not, let me in," you snapped, leaning in so close your face almost brushed against his. "move out of my way before i make you."

heeseung watched, a little impressed, a little surprised at how you held your ground. you weren’t backing down for anything, no one was going to push you around. the guy was trying to reason with you, but you weren’t having it. before things could escalate, heeseung walked up, cutting through the tension with his calm presence. the guy looked at him with confusion, but heeseung ignored him, instead turning to you.

“hey,” he said, his voice cool but loud enough for you to hear over the noise. “it’s fine. let her in.”

you stopped, glancing up at him with a look of surprise in your eyes, like you hadn’t expected him to step in. but then your face softened slightly, and he gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, signaling to the guard that it was okay.

"i said it’s fine," heeseung continued, keeping his gaze on the guy who was still hesitating. "she’s here with me."

the guard’s eyes flicked between you two, clearly unsure, but he finally backed off. “whatever,” he muttered, stepping aside. “but you’re on thin ice, lady.”

you didn’t even acknowledge the guy’s words. you turned without a second glance, and motioned for your friend to follow your lead. “gigi, let’s go,” you said, the confidence in your voice as clear as day.

heeseung blinked, surprised by the sudden appearance of the girl who had been standing quietly behind you the entire time, playing with her nails. you both were dressed in tiny dresses that revealed too much, clearly ready to go somewhere else after this. giselle wasn’t as loud or bold as you, but there was something in the way she carried herself with her salmon colored pin-straight hair and long nails, that suggested she was just as comfortable in her own skin. she followed you without hesitation, taking slow steps toward the door.

the two of you walked together like you didn’t even notice the opulence of the house, the flashy people, or the music blaring from inside. you seemed completely indifferent to the party scene, to all of it, and heeseung couldn’t help but admire it and wonder how had he not noticed you before. while everyone else was caught up in the noise, the drinking, the pretension, you and giselle were just there. not needing anything from this world. not caring about any of it. you only seemed to care about yourselves, about the quiet between you, and maybe that was the most fascinating thing about you.

heeseung was about to say something, but you didn’t even look back at him. instead, you pushed your way through the crowd with your friend, making your way to the kitchen without a second thought. he followed, but kept his distance, not wanting to intrude.

you weren’t here for the party. you were here for you, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long he could keep watching from the sidelines before he, too, would be drawn into whatever world you existed in.

“alright,” you sighed, taking a few small plastic bags from your bra, and a cigarette box. you weren’t any kind of professional underground dealer, but you were still cautious, if not, word would get to your father and it would be a mess.

“i got you, ice, it’s the powder by the way, i got molly, those pills with happy faces on them, and weed… oh, and we pre-rolled them for you, they’re kind of fat, i’m really nice like that,” you smiled at heeseung, seeing him stare at you.

“you good?” you asked, “i didn’t bring anything else, i don’t think you’d even know how to take it,” you stepped back, crossing your arms.

“oh, yeah, yeah, that’s good,” he shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “can i scan-pay you?” heeseung asked, realizing, of course, he didn’t have any cash on him.

“yeah, it’s alright,” you said, pulling out your phone and typing in an amount before switching to a qr code for him to scan. for a moment, you considered scamming him, but decided against it. it would’ve been easy, he didn’t even ask about the prices.

once the payment went through, you flashed a quick, satisfied smile back to giselle. you could already feel happier knowing you would get out of this mansion. as you began to turn away, heeseung’s gaze shifted, his eyes landing on someone across the room. “hold on,” he muttered, scanning the crowd. he spotted jungwon nearby, leaning casually against the wall, chatting with a few people. heeseung grabbed the bags from the counter and stepped over to him.

“hey,” heeseung called, catching jungwon’s attention. “take this to sunghoon, yeah?” he passed the items over, his tone nonchalant. jungwon raised an eyebrow, looking at the bags before meeting heeseung’s eyes. “man, the things you get yourself into for a girl.”

heeseung shrugged, offering a half-smile. “it’s for me. just get it to him. he’ll know what to do.”

jungwon gave him a nod, slipping the bags into his jacket pocket. “got it.”

heeseung’s eyes followed you and giselle as you made your way toward the door, his steps quickening as he caught up with you just before you reached the curb.

“hey, where are you two headed?” he asked, voice casual but with a hint of concern. you looked at him, a little surprised to see him following. “we’re going to the south,” you said, glancing at giselle. “there’s a car race. about half an hour away, and since i had to come all the way up here for you, we’re hoping to make it to the after party.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze lingering on you. “i’ll drive you,” he said, his tone suddenly firm. “we wouldn’t want you, both of you, getting into any trouble out here.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but too high to argue. you glanced at giselle, who was lighting another blunt, and let out a sigh. "fine," you said, already feeling the weight of the night catching up with you. "i’m not in the mood to call a cab and waste money." giselle shot you a look that was part judgment, part annoyance, but she kept quiet. you could feel her disapproval, but you were beyond caring at this point.

heeseung led the way, and you followed without a word. when you reached the driveway, your eyes widened slightly at the car parked there. heeseung’s car was a sleek, black sports car, the kind that turned heads without even trying. it was polished to perfection, the curves of the body glinting in the dim light of the streetlamp. it was the kind of car that screamed wealth, effortlessly.

“is this yours?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. it was the first time something he had impressed you. heeseung smirked as he opened the passenger door for you. “yeah. pretty sure it’s faster than any cab you’d get out here.”

you shook your head, sliding into the leather seat. giselle climbed in at the back, sitting with her arms crossed, clearly not impressed. she still had that cold, distant air about her when it came to heeseung and his “scrooge mcduck” world.

heeseung didn’t seem bothered. he slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the low purr of the car’s power seemed to cut through the tension in the air. as he pulled out of the driveway, the smooth hum of the car filled the silence between you all.

it was an uncomfortable ride, but at least it was fast, and you weren’t wasting money on a cab. you stared out the window, the city lights blurring by, while giselle stared ahead, looking as unimpressed with heeseung and his world as ever. heeseung, on the other hand, kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. the drive was smooth, fast. but even as he focused on the road, his mind kept drifting back to you.

he glanced over at you, your face illuminated by the streetlights, your expression unreadable. and for a brief second, he realized that he didn’t want this ride to end. he didn’t want to stop being close to you, even if just for a moment.

as you got closer to the south side, the vibe of the neighborhood started to change. heeseung could feel it in the air. the buildings were older, the streets narrower, the houses less pristine than the ones he was used to. the gleaming luxury of his own world felt miles away. his fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings, a slight unease creeping in.

you glanced over at him, sensing the shift in his energy. “you okay?” you asked, eyes narrowing slightly as you noticed him tense up and grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. heeseung didn’t respond at first. he just kept driving, his gaze flicking between the rearview mirror and the unfamiliar streets. it was clear he wasn’t used to this. “yeah,” he said, his voice cool but there was something off about it. “just... not exactly my usual neighborhood.”

you gave him a knowing look, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “don’t worry,” you said, your voice light but with an edge of seriousness. “i’ll protect you, whatever happens pretty boy.”

heeseung shot you a glance, eyes flicking over to meet yours, before rolling his eyes. “i don’t need protection, thanks,” he muttered, but there was an almost imperceptible tension in his jaw that gave him away.

you could tell he was uncomfortable, and it wasn’t just the drive. his world and this one were different in every way, and he was out of his element, but you didn’t say anything. it was clear enough without needing to spell it out. heeseung took a turn down an alleyway, the pavement rough and uneven. he parked the car next to a few other vehicles, feeling the weight of the decision. the streetlights here weren’t as bright, and there was a certain stillness in the air that felt too quiet for comfort. his mind flashed briefly to the idea of getting robbed, but he pushed the thought away, shaking his head.

“don’t take it personally,” you said, reading his discomfort easily. you and giselle climbed out of the car, both of you moving with purpose. “come on,” you said, glancing back at him. “the after party’s just down the street.”

heeseung hesitated, but finally stepped out of the car. the low hum of the engine idled in the background, the sound of the city slowly creeping in around him. he walked behind you and giselle, trying not to seem too out of place as you led the way out the alley.

the party was just around the corner, and the closer you got, the louder the music became. from a distance, it looked like any other chaotic house party, but heeseung could sense the difference. the people were rougher, the energy sharper. it felt like a different world, one he had no real experience in. you shot him a glance over your shoulder as you reached the front door. “you’re fine,” you said, almost as if you were trying to reassure him, though you both knew there was no guarantee of that. you gave him a small smirk before pushing open the door.

heeseung paused at the threshold, looking around. this was a place where he didn’t belong, a world where people didn’t care about money or status. it was raw, unpredictable, and everything in him wanted to retreat, but something kept him standing there. you had pulled him into this world, whether he liked it or not. heeseung followed you and giselle into the backyard, where the atmosphere felt more relaxed, but still lively. the yard was filled with groups of people gathered around, casually chatting and laughing. the air was thicker here, filled with the mix of cigarette smoke and the low hum of music coming from the house.

heeseung couldn’t help but feel out of place as his gaze landed on two guys, who were lounging on a bench, laughing with a couple of girls. their casual demeanor was in sharp contrast to the tightly wound posture he’d been carrying since arriving. they noticed him immediately, their eyes flicking to him, then back to you and giselle. noting he was one of ‘yours.’

“girls, you bailed on us tonight,” keeho pouted.

“we told you we were going to sell at one of y/n new classmates party. your little suicide car race isn’t that important,” giselle rolled her eyes kicking keeho’s shin with her heel, making him hiss.

yeonjun raised an eyebrow and smirked at heeseung, who was still tense, and looked like a mannequin from a golf store. “yo, man, you look like you’re about to shit yourself already. what’s with the stiff face?” he asked, clearly amused by heeseung’s discomfort. keeho chuckled, looking at him with a knowing smile.

“you’re here with her, though,” keeho added, tilting his head in your direction. “so, you’re alright, huh? wasn’t expecting to see you here, rich kid.”

you laughed at his comment, taking giselle’s blunt and taking a drag out of it.

heeseung wasn’t sure how to respond. he wasn’t sure why he felt so out of place. it wasn’t like he had anything against the people here. still, he couldn’t shake the tension in his shoulders. “yeah, just not... used to this,” he muttered, glancing around at the unfamiliar scene.

you caught his eye, noticing the tension that still hadn’t fully left him. with a small grin, you spoke up, your tone light but firm. “don’t sweat it. i said i’d protect you didn’t i? you’re fine. just enjoy the night.”

yeonjun laughed and leaned back, gesturing to the people around him. “we’re bro’s, right? just have a good time. you’re with us now,” he said, his smile more welcoming than teasing.

you and heeseung exchanged a quick look, something unspoken passing between you before you broke the silence with a small smile. “want a drink?” you asked, your tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more, like you were offering him a way to settle in, just a little. heeseung hesitated, glancing around at the people milling about, some laughing, some lost in their own world. he still wasn’t quite comfortable, still felt like an outsider, but the offer was simple enough. he nodded slowly. “yeah. sure.”

you led the way over to a small table where drinks were being passed around, beer cans, a few bottles of cheap liquor, and what looked like a mix of makeshift cocktails. the scene felt different than the polished, curated parties he was used to. you grabbed a bottle of something brown and poured it into a plastic cup, handing it to him. “you’re unlucky, i don’t have any fancy cocktails,” you said with a half-smirk, leaning back slightly as he took the drink.

“thanks,” he muttered, eyeing the cup with a little wariness before taking a careful sip. it was strong. way stronger than he expected, and he quickly forced himself to swallow, trying not to show that it burned. heeseung took another drink, feeling the warmth spread through his chest as the alcohol hit him. the tension in his body started to loosen, but his mind kept swirling around the question that had been nagging him ever since you first crossed his path.

“why are you staying with me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, a little more curious as you two settled down on two plastic chairs. “why not go back to your friends? seems like you’d rather be with them.” he watched you for a second as you absentmindedly looked around. for a moment, you didn’t answer, but then you met his gaze, your eyes soft and a little more open than usual, like you were letting him see something deeper.

“because i knew you wouldn’t feel comfortable by yourself,” you said casually, but there was something in your tone, something almost kind, that caught him off guard. you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but he could tell it was, at least to you. heeseung blinked, surprised. he hadn’t expected that kind of answer. it wasn’t what he’d imagined, especially with how standoffish you'd seemed earlier. you weren’t trying to be here out of obligation, or to entertain some rich kid from the party.

and then, as the silence stretched on for a second, he noticed something in your manner. something that shifted, just a little. your body language had relaxed, your words were slower, more open. heeseung's gaze narrowed, and he took a longer look at you. “wait a minute,” he said, voice a little more cautious. “you’re high, aren’t you?” he laughed.

“yeah, i’ve been for the last ten minutes,” you admitted with a small laugh, your words softening at the edges. “it’s just the same thing i gave you, though. don’t get all worried on me.”

“so you’re... this you?” he asked, motioning vaguely to the two of you, to the situation, to everything happening around you. “not the one back at the school?”

you shrugged again, but this time it was more relaxed. “yeah, i guess so,” you said, eyes flickering away for a second, like you were deciding whether to share more or pull back. but then, you met his gaze again, almost like you were daring him to say something about it. “i thought i’ve always been me, but now that you mention it. i guess i kind of act with some sort of resentment to you guys,”

he took another drink, then looked at you, his voice softer this time. “why’s that?”

“hard feeling,” you said simply. “family things, but it’s all handled.” you lied, not wanting to open up to him completely yet. there was definitely a change in him, and you noticed it. and in his eyes you could see the slight desperation and need. it was his new demeanour that made him different. you couldn't explain, because words couldn't even clarify what was starting to lure you in.

“heeseung, seriously, i’m opening up to you, and you keep looking at me like you want to fuck,” you said out of nowhere. he instantly tensed up and looked away.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t realize,” he said. it was obvious he didn’t want you to think of him as a player anymore, he was actually trying to please you now. you let out a soft, teasing laugh, leaning back in your chair, knowing exactly what you were doing. you decided to play into his usual game just enough to give him a bit of satisfaction. "do you?"

heeseung immediately turned toward you, eyes widening in surprise as he caught the playful glint in yours. he knew exactly what you were hinting at, but he still tried to keep his cool, pretending to be unfazed. "huh?"

"do you… want to fuck?" you asked casually, watching him with a challenge in your eyes.

his breath caught for a split second, but he quickly composed himself. he opened his mouth, unsure of how to answer, and hesitated. "i… don’t know," he muttered, trying to play it safe, though his voice betrayed a slight crack of uncertainty. you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your head tilting back as you let out a short snort. you met his eyes again, smirking. "what do you mean you don’t know? is it really that hard to say what you want?"

heeseung shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to play it cool, but the nervousness was obvious. and it was so very clear that he wanted it. he ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flickering away for a moment. "what even is your point y/n?"

you shrugged nonchalantly, your tone lighter now. "nothing, just asking."

after that night, things were different. heeseung wasn't the same. he wasn't playing games anymore, not the way he used to. it wasn’t like he’d suddenly become someone else, but around you, he changed. that distance he always kept, it started to shrink.

you could feel it in the way he acted, the way he’d look at you sometimes when you were talking in class or lunch with your friend, like he was listening for real and not just pretending. he was less guarded, more real with you.

you started meeting up behind the gym often. no one ever really saw you, and that’s how you both liked it. the air was always a little warmer there, the kind of quiet where you could actually talk. you’d smoke, and he’d sit with you, talking about everything and nothing at all. and even when the conversation would die down, there was this comfortable silence between you two. the kind that felt easy, like you didn’t have to fill every gap with words.

one day, he even just showed up at your door, standing there with his dad, holding a gift basket. you froze when you opened the door. heeseung, here, with his dad, visiting your dad. it was almost laughable. you never thought you’d see the day, but there he was, a little nervous, but still trying to act cool.

"uh, hey," he said, like it wasn’t the most awkward thing ever. "my dad was going to visit your dad... said something about business visits or whatever, so i came with him."

you blinked, still processing, then stepped aside to let them in. after that, you both started to realize how much closer you’d gotten. things weren’t just about secret meetings anymore. they were about knowing each other, understanding each other in a way you didn’t before.

heeseung wasn’t a player anymore, not around you. he wasn’t hiding behind any walls or pretending to be something he wasn’t. it was like he was finally letting himself be seen, and you liked that. a lot.

even with all the changes, even with how much closer you two had become, there was still that one thing hanging between you. heeseung was still with karina. it wasn’t like you didn’t notice it. the way they would still walk around school together, the way she’d smile at him when he passed by. there were no obvious signs of trouble, no cracks in their relationship that you could see.

even though heeseung would drop little hints, those quiet, uncertain words when the two of you were alone ‘i’m thinking about breaking up with her…’ it never seemed to go anywhere. he would say it with a kind of vulnerability, like he was testing the waters, like he was hoping you’d say something that would push him in one direction or the other.

you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. there was this constant tug-of-war between what he said to you in private and what he did when the world was watching. it felt like he was trying to keep one foot in both worlds, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were left waiting in the middle, unsure if you were just a momentary distraction or something more. you told yourself you shouldn’t read too much into it. that he was confused, that maybe it wasn’t the right time, or maybe he didn’t have the courage to make the change. but every time he’d tell you he wanted to leave her, you’d see the conflict in his eyes, that quiet desperation to be understood, to be seen. still, he never followed through. he never made the choice.

you stayed friendly, maybe out of habit, maybe because you weren’t quite ready to let go of the connection you’d built. you let him tag along when you hung out with your friends down south at the house. a spot that was more a sanctuary than anything else, away from the world, away from expectations.

heeseung still had that rich boy aura about him, the one that made him stick out in a crowd of worn-out jeans and streetwise attitudes. but your friends didn’t mind. they were good with him being there, even if they teased him a little. mocking his clean-cut appearance, joking about how his designer clothes didn’t exactly fit the vibe. they liked him well enough, though. it was obvious he wasn’t as comfortable with them as he was in his own circles, but he did try. and they did notice how close you’d gotten to him.

“look at mr. fancy pants over here,” yeonjun would joke, nudging him as he sipped on whatever drink was put in front of him. “you sure you’re not lost, rich boy? this isn’t exactly sushi bar territory.”

he’d smile, a little awkwardly, trying to laugh it off, but there was always a flicker of discomfort behind his eyes. he wasn’t like them, not really. they knew it, and he knew it, but it didn’t matter as much when he was there, surrounded by your friends, just being with you.

you’d catch moments, though. quiet ones when he was staring off into the distance, or when his laugh felt a little too forced. you knew it was because he was still stuck. still torn between two worlds, two lives. and you were tired of being in the middle of it. though, what ou didn’t know, that for him it was much more than that. he was stuck between two girls of different worlds. karina and you.

karina wasn’t someone he actually liked, he was just with her for his reputation and his family. but still, he was with her. and you, you were absolutely everything to him. you were the trouble that came along with bad decisions and the reward that came after them.

it all came crashing down one night when you and your friends were hanging out at the house, like you’d done countless times before. the air was thick with smoke, the sounds of laughter and music filling the dim-lit space as everyone just tried to forget for a few hours. it was supposed to be like any other night, a break from everything that weighed you down. but then, out of nowhere, the door slammed open.

sirens wailed in the distance, but it was already too late. the police stormed in, uniformed and angry, their boots pounding against the cracked floors, their voices demanding silence. they didn’t give anyone a chance to react before they were ripping through everything. throwing aside old records, scattering things off shelves, knocking over bottles.

"this is a raid," one of the officers barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "everything’s getting confiscated."

your heart sank as they swept through the room, destroying everything. things you had no idea they’d even care about. all the memories, the things that had made this place feel like home, were being taken apart right in front of you. your childhood, your sanctuary, was crumbling.

you stood frozen for a second, not sure what to do, but your instinct kicked in. no way in hell. this wasn’t right. you couldn’t let them destroy it all. you rushed forward, intent on stopping them, shouting at the officers to stop, to leave, to just go away.

"who the hell do you think you guys are?! this is my house! you can’t do this!" you screamed, your hands shaking with adrenaline as you tried to push past one of the officers to get to the old furniture, the things that meant something to you. everything in this house had a story, a memory. and they were tearing it down, trying to find something.

but before you could get too far, a hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back. it was heeseung, his grip firm but gentle as he yanked you away from the officers.

“stop,” he muttered urgently, his voice tense. "you’re not gonna win this. they’ll arrest you, they’ll make it worse." even if he was slightly scared, and terrified of getting himself arrested and the word getting to his father, he had to take care of you. he just wondered how they found out about this place, a drug raid was almost impossible, you were within the legal bounds.

you were almost angry at heeseung for not letting you go. in that moment, as the officers trashed everything that meant something to you, the anger bubbled up inside. how could he stand there, calm and collected, trying to hold you back, when everything you cared about was being destroyed? it felt like betrayal, even though you knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. he wasn’t the one doing this.

you tried to pull away from him, your heart racing, your mind spinning. "let me go, heeseung!" you snapped, your voice sharp and furious. " i can’t just stand here and watch them do this! they’re destroying everything!"

but he held you tighter, his grip unyielding. “i’m not letting you make things worse. not like this,” he said, his voice tight but calm, like he knew exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to hear it.

you yanked your arm again, almost reckless with frustration. your pulse was pounding in your ears. “why? why are you stopping me? i can’t just let them-” you broke off, your voice cracking. you didn’t want to admit how scared you were, how helpless you felt. in that moment, you realized, there wasn’t anybody there for you. the house of your mother was being searched, and she wasn’t here. and you knew you’re father wouldn’t care.

his eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might let go. but instead, he pulled you closer, his voice dropping to something gentler, but firm. “because if you go after them now, you’re just giving them more reason to hurt you. to make it worse. this isn’t the time.”

you hated that he was right. you absolutely hated it.

it wasn’t just about the stuff. it wasn’t just about the house. it was the fact that it all felt like a reminder of how much you didn’t have control over. the way things kept slipping through your fingers, no matter how hard you tried to hold on. you looked up at him, your chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. “they can’t just take everything,” you muttered, the anger still hot in your throat. “this was my life. my memories. this house is all i am.”

heeseung didn’t say anything right away. he just looked at you. like he really understood. he got it, even if you weren’t sure you could let him. finally, he exhaled slowly. "i know. but this isn’t the way to fix it."

you stood there, your body still tense, but slowly, you started to feel the reality of the situation hit you. he wasn’t letting you be reckless because he didn’t care. he was trying to protect you from making a bigger mistake, from getting hurt. from losing more. with a heavy sigh, you slumped against him, the fight draining from your body. you weren’t sure if you were more angry at the situation or at yourself for feeling so helpless. but in that moment, as the chaos continued around you, all you could do was lean into him. just a little, because you knew you couldn’t do this alone.

after the chaos of the raid, everything seemed to move in slow motion. the police had confiscated everything they wanted that seemed suspicious, leaving nothing but a wrecked space behind. they’d taken their time, ensuring that no one was left with any trace of what used to be there. when it was over, the officers had turned their attention to you, with blaming guns in hand.

you hadn’t even realized they were going to search you until they were doing it, their hands cold and impersonal as they patrolled your pockets, your bag, your shoes. your heart hammered in your chest, and you were still shaking from the adrenaline, from everything that had just happened. everything felt surreal, like you were watching it happen to someone else. but the reality of it hit hard when they finally let you out of the interrogation room, their eyes on you like you were some kind of suspect.

you stood outside the police station, the weight of everything pressing down on you. the air felt colder now, the harshness of the situation settling in. you were free to go, but the damage had been done. you felt exposed, like a part of you had been torn away that you couldn’t get back. but you couldn’t stay there anymore. the night had stretched on, and you just needed to leave.

as you stood there, trying to process the mess that had been made of your life, you heard someone approaching from behind. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. his footsteps, the way he moved, the tension in his gait, it was heeseung.

he walked up to you, his face serious, eyes darker than usual. "are you okay?" he asked, though you could tell he wasn’t asking just out of concern. he was searching for something else, something deeper. you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. instead, you just gave a tight nod, your throat too tight to speak. but then he said something that made your stomach drop.

“it was karina,” he said.

you blinked, confused. “what do you mean?”

heeseung exhaled sharply, shaking his head slightly, like he couldn’t believe it. "she’s the one who called the cops. i know it. she slipped up when i talked to her a couple of minutes ago, she somehow knew i was here.”

a cold feeling swept over you as everything clicked into place. karina. karina had followed him all the way to the house, had gotten the cops involved. it made sense, but the realization didn’t make it hurt any less.

“she did this?” you asked quietly, your voice hollow. you didn’t need to say much more. it was all there. you didn’t actually believe it was possible for someone to be such a horrible human being. heeseung didn’t respond immediately. his jaw clenched, and you could see how much it was bothering him. how much it hurt him to admit it, but he couldn’t deny it.

"yeah," he muttered, his voice low. "i didn’t want to believe it at first, but... it’s clear now." he looked at you, his expression almost guilty, like he was carrying something heavy. "i never wanted you to be caught up in that. i never thought she’d go this far. i broke up with her, she kept bothering me about being here."

you turned away, looking out into the night, the cool air stinging your face. "so what now?" you asked, the words coming out flat, tired. heeseung stepped closer, his voice more earnest now, as if he wanted to say something, to fix things. "i don’t know," he admitted quietly. "i never wanted it to be like this. i don’t want to lose you... but i don’t know how to fix this either. i don’t want to hurt you."

you glanced at him, feeling the weight of the moment. part of you wanted to scream, to say everything that was building up inside, but another part of you just felt... defeated. because the truth was, even now, with everything that had happened, you still didn’t have an answer. and maybe that was the problem. you could feel it. the tension that had been there for so long. the feelings that you couldn’t fully express, that he couldn’t seem to acknowledge. and here you were, caught in the middle of it all.

“you’ve already hurt me, heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i guess... i guess i’ve been letting you. because i still don’t know how to walk away.”

heeseung’s expression faltered. "i never wanted you to feel that way."

you shook your head. “you don’t get it, do you? it’s not about what you want anymore. it’s about what’s already happened.”

he didn’t have a response. all he could do was stand there, looking at you like he wanted to fix things, but knowing he couldn’t. because when it came down to it, the choice had never been yours. and it sure as hell wasn’t his to make anymore.

for the next few days, you avoided heeseung like the plague. and he couldn’t get close to you. everytime he tried, something got in the way, his friends, responsibilities. and you were fine with that. you just had to accept that everything that happened with him was just a slip up, and you’d soon be in your usual bad girl exterior, ignoring him one again.

but it wasn’t that easy. not with karina still out to make your life impossible. she was still angry at you for whatever reason. angry enough to confront you again.

“how are you doing, y/n?” karina pulled out a chair in your empty lunch table, sitting down neatly on it.

“what the fuck do you want?” you spat, annoyed by her presence. you could already feel the stares of students and teachers, as they were informed of what happened.

“geez, calm down, we wouldn’t want you to get a violence complaint and get sent back to the police station, wouldn’t we?”

that was all she needed to say, the single words that came out of her mouth. and she was face down on the ground. you pressed your knee on her back, keeping her grounded, as your hand made her face keep contact with the dirty floor. “you keep fucking messing with me karina, i told you i wouldn’t let it go.”

from a table not to far away, heeseung sat with his friends, watching the scene intently, and for once, heeseung felt himself worrying about a girl. not karina, but you. for once he felt the need to protect you, even if you were already capable on your own.

a small drop of blood from her perfect skin was enough to make you land yourself in the principal’s office. after the fight in the cafeteria, everything changed. you were suspended for your actions, the consequences of that impulsive moment catching up with you. karina had pushed you too far, it was messy. it was ugly. and now, it was your reality.

you spent the next week alone, mostly, apart from that day your father made you attend rehab, because for some reason the school requested it, there you met some nice people. the suspension meant missing school, being grounded and missing your friends down south who kept spamming your phone, and also being forced to face the aftermath of everything. it was a strange kind of isolation. you hadn’t expected to feel so disconnected. the chaos of the fight, the anger you’d been holding back for so long. it all felt like it had burned itself out in that one violent moment. and now, there was just the quiet, with nothing left to do but think.

one afternoon, as you sat on your huge balcony, smoking a cigarette, since your father confiscated everything else, you tried to let the smoke clear your head. you watched the world outside, the fancy cars in traffic passing below, people going about their business, and it felt almost surreal. like everything that had happened. the raid, the fight, was part of some other version of your life. but you couldn’t forget. you couldn’t ignore the tension in your chest. the weight of everything you’d lost. even if you didn’t want to admit it, even if you didn’t want to feel it, you still missed him. you missed the parts of him that were real. the ones that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be different. but now, with everything laid bare, you realized it was never going to be the way you wanted.

you sighed and flicked the cigarette to the ground, watching it burn out as you leaned back against the railing. it was quiet here, just you and the world. it gave you space to breathe, to think. but still, your mind kept returning to heeseung. to the way he’d looked at you in the hallways before everything went south. to the way he used to make you feel seen. and even though you were angry at him, you still couldn’t shake the thought ‘maybe i miss him more than i should.’

you were lost in thought when the doorbell rang, snapping you out of your haze. no one ever came to your house except your dad, so the sound was unexpected. you walked to the top of the stairs to see who it was, but when you saw the butler let heeseung inside, your stomach dropped. what the hell was he doing here? after everything, after you cut him off. he still showed up. frustration hit you immediately, and you turned to leave, heading quickly to your room. but heeseung wasn’t giving up that easily. you heard his footsteps behind you as he called your name. "hey, wait!"

you didn’t stop. you just pushed harder to get to your door, slamming it behind you and locking it. but you knew he was still out there, still following you.

“please, can we talk?” he said softly through the door. you stood there, fists clenched, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to know why he couldn’t just leave you alone.

you hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him standing there. you unlocked the door and let him in, and he stepped inside, his gaze immediately scanning your room. it was quiet, almost sterile. nothing like the space you had shown him at your old place. there were no personal touches, no signs of the messy, chaotic you he’d seen before. it felt different. distant.

heeseung looked around, his eyes softening with something like regret, but before he could say anything, you snapped.

“you have no right to come back into my life like this, like you own the place!” you shouted, your voice shaking with anger. “after everything, after you- ugh! you can’t just show up here, acting like it’s nothing!”

he took a step back, clearly taken off guard by the intensity of your words. but you didn’t care. the frustration, the hurt. it all spilled out in a rush. “you didn’t fight for shit, heeseung! you never did. you just kept going back to karina and that made her destroy my life! so don’t come here now, thinking everything’s fine!”

his face tightened, but he didn’t speak. he just stood there, looking at you, trying to find the right words. but you couldn’t let him speak. not yet.

“you don’t get to do this,” you spat, your chest heaving. “you don’t get to just fix it after everything you’ve done.”

heeseung didn't say anything. he just stepped forward and pulled you into a kiss-fast, intense. you froze, feeling all the anger and frustration you'd built up dissolve in that moment. it wasn't gentle, it wasn't soft. it was his apology, his regret, all packed into one. you tried to push him away to keep talking, but he didn't let you. instead, his hand gripped your wrist, pushing you against the wall, and it made everything inside you twist. when he pulled back, his breath was heavy, eyes searching yours.

“i will cuss you out heeseung, for everything, maybe not just now,” you breathed out, making a small grin appear on his face.

his hands gently traced the contours of your figure as his gaze remained focused on you. he was tender, careful, his lips leaving soft, lingering touches, wanting you to remember only the feel of his kiss. "i've missed you so fucking much, you don’t even know…" he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw. "me too," you replied softly, pressing your lips against his again.

his hands quickly went to the hem of your shirt, his experienced fingers peeling it shirt off your warm body, a small sigh leaving his lips as they trailed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along it. your breathing got heavier as he sucked hard occasionally, very clearly trying to leave marks.

“fuck, slow down, i’m not going anywhere,” you let out a small breathy gasp, feeling his sharp teeth numbing on your skin, then his soft lips pressing against the spot, almost delicately. you moaned lightly as heeseung slid his knee between your thighs, feeling him smirk against your sensitive skin. “yeah, i know.”

heeseung then moved you both to the edge of your bed, gently letting you rest on your back, your head landing softly against the pillows, still very much aware of how much you needed his mouth back on your body.

he resumed to trailing kisses down your chest, through every single line of dark ink on your body, until he reached the hem of your shorts, looking up at you with those dark doe eyes, that drowned in need. “just relax, can you do that for me?” heeseung slowly started to take off your bottoms, as you sighed out “uh-huh.” he pulled them down your legs, throwing them away from your sight.

“just like that,” he slipped his hand through your white laced underwear causing you to shudder. as his soft fingertips brushed against your cunt. your chest immediately tensed feeling his index and middle finger rub down your clit, your wetness coating his fingers.

heeseung captured your lips into a hungry kiss, distracting you for a small second as he pushed two fingers deep inside of you, reaching up. but soon enough, he had you gasping for air against his mouth, as he moved them quicker, his thumb pressing against your clit, sending a warm feeling through your body.

your hand gripped the soft silk sheets, the other on his shoulder, feeling him so deep inside. your hips buckled unconsciously, wanting to get even closer to him. “fuck,” you whispered, dryly moaning, getting the overwhelming sense of cumming start building up.

heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth one time, before going down on you, his hot tongue leaving a wet trail against your skin, and then he replaced his thumb, sucking on your swollen clit, while his fingers still worked their way into you. his eyes observed how you reacted, almost as if hunting you down. it all felt too much, many sensations at the same time, they had you struggling with your words in between moans, as the knot inside your stomach tightened but quickly gave up, “fuck, ‘seung- mhmm, i’m gonna-“ you whimpered, feeling your legs start shaking, making heeseung go impossibly harder on you.

he fingered and sucked you until you came down your high, making sure to lick his fingers clean, not wanting to get your bed dirty, even if it would in a few seconds. you could feel him getting more hard, as he pressed his hips down against your plush thigh to get a bit of friction. a smirk spread across your mouth because you knew you were the reason why.

“come on, let me see your face, pretty girl,” he grabbed you with his other hand, turning your hot face towards him, almost grinning in victory when seeing your half lidded pinkish eyes, as if you were drunk from arousal and his touch. he bored into your face, as if looking at a piece of art, “you’re goddamn beautiful,” he uttered.

“yeah, i know,” you told him, making him laugh, while using your hands to unbutton his pants, starting to slide them off. heeseung noticed this, looking down at your actions then back up at you with a smirk, “and you’re telling me to slow down,” he said with a devilish tone, helping you take off his clothes, ever so slowly, torturing you with the time.

you threw him a warning look, as he propped up, still on top of you, and took off his shirt as well, letting you see his slightly tanned skin, clear of any love bites that soon would coat him. heeseung hovered over your body, watching intently how he deeply buried himself inside of you. he wouldn’t let you do any of the work, it was going to be him.

you felt him pulsate inside of you, your walls stretching out for him due to his size. it was almost painful to feel too full at once. heeseung was trying not to go crazy over how warm and tight your were, suppressing the need to fuck you with everything he had here and now, before starting to move slowly. he went as deep as he could, and once you got used to the feeling of his dick inside you, heeseung started thrusting in roughly, enough to send spams through your heat, to your body.

“fuck, you’re so good for me,” heeseung groaned, and he took advantage of your position under him to make particularly strong thursts, tightening his grip on your waist, his expression full with desire for more, to get lost in you. and your face didn’t make it better, you looked so needy and high from him at the same time, it made him want to fuck you endlessly, and lose control.

his hips kept slamming with yours mercilessly, and you felt yourself aching, wanting to cum once again, letting out a loud inevitable moan. heeseung was pressed by your walls, as he approached his edge soon, taking the moment to pound into you quickly, almost making himself a whining mess.

you whimpered into his mouth due to the overstimulation he caused you with his thrusts, a knot ran through your legs and you didn't know how much longer you could resist, you felt unbelievably full from him. your warm breath made him lose even more concentration, as he mindlessly came inside of you, coating your insides, still throbbing and moving slowly into you.

when he finally stopped and cleaned you up carefully, heeseung dropped next to you, turning to watch your profile. he raised his fist, getting your attention, and you gave him an odd look before joining your own first with him in the middle in a fistbump, even if you felt like you were about to give away into sleepiness. “atleast that’s better than making stuff awkward,” you sighed, looking up at the ceiling, only dressed in your shirt and a new pair of underwear, feeling a small tug in your throat from being dry.

“hey, we need to get up, i was planning on taking you out,” heeseung said, poking your arm playfully. he couldn’t be serious, wanting you to leave the comfort of your bed after not being able to feel how to walk.

turning your body to your side, you looked out of the glass panel that was your window, noticing the sky get darker “you’re crazy, i’m not doing that right now, let me be,” the words left your mouth tiredly, groaning as you adjusted your position.

heeseung shook his head, hearing a small breath from you, telling him you were in already dream-land, way too far for him to get ahold of you. and he was sure it would always be like that, that he would be the one chasing you, and he didn’t mind, because after all the bad decisions, he was knew he could handle it, the bad reputation and everything that came in between.

BTW: this is saur embarrassing, if it doesn’t get atleast one note, i will delete my whole account istg. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 also, not proofread. i’m not reading all that stuff again. ew.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

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breakandbuildfiction · 9 months ago

Text

My rant about Danny Phantom and DPxDC tropes

This is just going to be a listing and rant about some of the Danny Phantom and DPxDC story and prompt trends I tend to see around Tumblr. I want to make it clear that I don’t care if you like the things I don’t like or dislike the things I do. Everyone is entitled to their own tastes so long as they don’t harm others and that includes headcannons and fanfics. So don’t be a dick.

______________

Danny is the Ghost King: I admit I really like this one, but I also admit it doesn’t make a ton of sense.

I like OP Danny, I think it’s fun and it fits how several of his enemies can easily be called gods or have global-level powers— Vortex with his storms and Ember with her mind control/power siphoning being key examples— and having him basically be the leader of an entire infinite dimension filled with several godlike beings makes him come off as super badass.

On the other hand, this headcanon typically leans into Danny getting the job via Right Of Conquest against Pariah Dark. The thing is, Pariah wasn’t a recognized ruler. He was a tyrant and conqueror that few if any actually wanted to follow. He didn’t have ‘divine right’ or the willing submission of his subjects. He was the Ghost King because he had the power and desire to force his will against the rest of the Realms. Hell, he was so hated that a cabal of super-powerful/ancient spirits deposed him and locked him away for hundreds/thousands/millions of years and NO ONE other than Vlad tried to free him! So Danny beating him shouldn’t suddenly make him a legitimate ruler.

That all said if you go with the less used reasoning that the Ghost Zone NEEDS to have a single ruler for whatever reason and Danny beating the previous singular ruler/being one of the few ghosts/spirits who have the power and fame required for the position I have no problem with the idea.

Danny is Dani’s dad: Another thing I like, but also another thing that gets messy when you think about it.

Cloning as I understand it basically gives you a genetic twin, not a genetic child. So even with Dani’s genes being modified somehow she’d read more like Danny’s sister than his daughter. So unless you want to throw in that Vlad used some third party’s genes to help stabilize her, Dani is not genetically Danny’s kid.

Ignoring genetics and sticking to emotions and such, emotionally and mentally Danny is a teenager and Dani is somewhere between 8 and 12, way too close of an age difference for Danny to really take on a paternal role for Dani. And even if you say that Dani is mentally younger due to her being force grown it would still leave Danny as a very young teenage parent of a preteen and Dani in a very weird state as her physical and mental development would be at gross odds with how she can filter information.

If you deage Dani to a toddler however and have Danny be AT LEAST 16, things could make more sense as far as them seeing each other as parent and child go.

Danny gives off Uncanny Valley vibes: This has no basis in canon, be it for full ghosts or Halfas or anything else. That said, I love this idea and have no further notes.

Danny is an engineering genius: This is one that comes up pretty sporadically, and I guess it MIGHT have some basis in canon if you stretch some things, but it’s not something that was ever explicitly stated or even heavily implied. I still like it though and think it’s really fun when used for things other than just saying Danny is smart.

Tucker is a master hacker: I get where this is coming from and I understand the vibes, plus it has more of a basis than Danny being an engineering genius, but this also doesn’t really have any real basis in canon. The only ‘hacking’ that he really does is against Skulker and that involves the ghost first assimilating Tucker’s PDA, giving him a back door into Skulker’s systems to do one specific thing. So while fun in some cases, I don’t like it when it gets blown out of proportion and having Tucker being on par with the likes of Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, or Cyborg as a computer genius. He is smart and he is a programmer, but he’s not a super genius.

Everyone is Liminal: I don’t know who popularized this idea, but I don’t like it. The idea that just being around ectoplasm makes someone liminal sounds like something that the Fenton parents would have been at least vaguely aware of if they were already smart enough to wear hazmat suits for protection when working with ectoplasm, so if they knew it would make people basically proto ghosts/ensure they would become ghosts, they sure as hell wouldn’t have set up shop in a city.

Not only that but we already know that the GIW is willing to use heavy artillery and lethal force on people they think MIGHT be under the influence of a ghost or could be ghostly themselves. So if a whole town was showing up as being so ‘ecto-contaminated’ that they are not even registering as fully human anymore you KNOW they’d start coming in to commit genocide.

The GIW isn’t a legal government body/their actions have violated their purview: Admittedly this one isn’t very common, but I HAVE seen it used a few times, so I’m going to talk about it.

First, I really like this because it avoids the trap of just saying ‘Oh the government is inherently evil and wants nothing more than to commit war crimes and genocide’, so big points there. Beyond that though I also just think it makes sense. I mean the US Government has a LOT of departments and I can see them having a small agency dedicated to keeping track of ‘supposedly’ paranormal shit for one reason or another, but I can’t see them getting a lot of funding— like the amount of discretionary funds needed to buy out all of Fentonworks— without them having to bring up the evidence before Congress and the Senate. From there there would definitely be ethical concerns regarding their actions, legislation would be introduced en-mass, and it would cause a national if not international uproar.

So for the GIW to work they’d either need to be a whole sale corrupt and rouge agency taking money from third parties— like Vlad— and going way beyond whatever authority they might have been legitimately granted to do most of the shit they end up doing, or they were never a government body to begin with but a special interest group funded and staffed by fanatics from around the world and are committing several additional crimes in addition to war crimes by impersinating a government agency.

The Anti-Ecto Acts: I honestly can’t remember if these are canon in some form or not, but I see them brought up a lot so I’m talking about them either way.

These make NO SENSE.

Getting something like this through Congress and the Senate would be INSANELY difficult even if you had evidence of an immediate threat. You can say ‘they hid it in another bill’ all you like but that kind of thing is way harder than you think. Even minor bills about laws and regulations that are just being put through for renewal get read over to make sure things aren’t slipped into them. And bigger, more complex laws take months if not YEARS to get passed and end up getting combed over with a fine comb. There would be no way these Acts could be passed without it being a major event that would be dragged out and debated for ages seeing as it’s literally about declaring a complex species non-sentient and opening them for no-holds-barred scientific experimentation and termination. Religious concerns would be brought up, ethical bodies would be formed and disbanded every day, calls would be made for third-party research, and more than a few people would demand that diplomacy be tried.

And if you tie this into DPxDC it makes even LESS sense as it would be against several laws, acts, and clauses that are meant to protect metahumans– please note that metahuman does not just mean having the metagene in DC, it means having extra-human abilities and powers including magic or alien blood.

Sam and Tucker have powers: I mean, there were entire episodes dedicated to Tucker being jealous about Danny having power and Sam pushing Danny to use his powers for social and/or political causes, but I can get behind the idea of the trio all having powers. So long as Sam and Tucker’s powers aren’t based around ghosts at least.

A big point of Danny Phantom’s story is that ghosts were super rare and believed to not exist before the start of the show and that Danny and Vlad’s powers are unheard-of anomalies caused by the Doctors Fentons’ experiments and creations so having other people get ghost powers in more ‘natural’ ways really undermines that and isn’t supported by canon at all. Yes Tucker was being used to resurrect a Pharaoh or something and Sam was the favored puppet of Undergrowth, but that doesn’t mean they would KEEP their powers after the ghosts giving them to them were removed from play. We see this in the episode where a bunch of Casper students get infected by ghost bugs, they got powers while infected and they lost them when the ghosts were removed. Beyond that we also have the time Jazz was almost sacrificed by Johnny to get Kitty back into the living world, she never got any powers from that despite being infused with Kitty’s power and essence and when said essence was removed she returned to a fully mortal human teenager with no powers.

Make Sam a witch or give Tucker nanite implants or something and I have no problem with this idea.

Danny becomes the Ancient of Space: I’ve already said that I like OP Danny, but I don’t think this title makes sense.

Yes I like giving Danny space powers and/or an eldritch space form, but I don’t like calling Danny the Ancient of Space because we don’t know how a ghost gets that title. Giving him this title seems to stem heavily from Space being the equal of Time which is Clockwork’s domain, but the thing is Clockwork isn’t called the Ancient of Time, he’s called the Master of Time. So I just generally feel like calling Danny the Master of Space fits better even if Ancient of Space sounds cooler.

Now onto more DPxDC exclusive stuff–

Jason is a Halfa/a developing Halfa: This is another one of those things where I just think goes too hard against the lore of Danny Phantom to make sense. Just dying and coming back to life does not make someone a Halfa, even if they don’t come back as fully alive. Not only that but it takes a LOT of ectoplasm and power to make a Halfa with Vlad and Danny being blasted with an opening portal and Dani being specifically grown from the DNA and ectoplasm of an existing Halfa. It just feels like its cheapening the existence of Hafas if they could have been created at any point in history using natural resources or general necromancy magic.

The Lazarus Pits are just rancid Ectoplasm: This just doesn’t work in my mind. Yes they are both green and are connected to death, but they don’t function or act anything like each other. Ectoplasm has shown no indication that it can be used to heal wounds or that it can be used to resurrect the dead outside of the creation of Hafas. The Lazarus pits have showcased no ability to be used as an energy source or for the waters to be in any state other than liquid, though it is a highly flammable substance in some interpretations while Ectoplasm can apparently be volatile enough to explode if not properly treated and filtered.

This idea also just cheapens both the Pits and Ectoplasm in different ways, with the Pits making it so Ectoplasm isn’t nearly as rare or tied to ghostly phenomena in the mortal world as we were lead to believe and Ectoplasm being readily available post-Fenton Portal activation making the constant search and hoarding of the Pits kind of useless. That and the Fentons apparently have Ectoplasm filters that I’m guessing could at least partially purify the Pits.

Backtracking a bit to the Jason is a Hafa/developing Halfa thing, a common way for that to be implemented is by saying the Pits are rancid Ectoplasm and he’s got a stunted Core. Well if that was the case than Ra’s Al Ghul would be just as far along as a Halfa as Jason if not being a fully fledged one himself at this point because while he might not have stayed dead as long as Jason in a single stretch– depending on how you look at the timeline of Jason’s revival– he did definitely spend more communicative time being dead over the centuries he’s been alive.

And finally, we know what rancid/corrupted Ectoplasm does to a person. It gives them Ecto-Acne. Which at best puts you in the hospital for years before giving you superpowers and usually would just slowly and painfully kill you.

Danny goes to Gotham: This one really just depends on WHY he goes to Gotham. Like, there’s nothing wrong with having a character go to a new city as the basis for a crossover, but I feel like it should make sense at least you know? And to be fair, most of the posts I’ve seen that talk about Danny going to Gotham do in fact make sense. So yeah, solid trope.

Danny and Damien are Twins: I have no problem with this in a vacuum, but I think people take it too far and ignore things like basic logic. Namely, the fact that for them to be secret twins then you have to acknowledge their looks. If they are fraternal twins then there is no real issue here, but if they are supposed to look super alike or even be capable of being mistaken for each other then there is the minor issue of their ethnicities.

No one ever suspects that Danny isn’t Jack Fenton’s son, and since both Jack and Maddie Fenton are caucasian, that means that Danny looks fully caucasian. Meanwhile, Damien is at very least one-quarter Arabic through his mother– I can’t recall if Talia is one hundred percent Arabic or not but I know Ra’s is– and is often depicted as having at least a dusky skin tone. So if you want them to be identical twins you’d have to say that both Damien and Danny appear to be completely white ethnically.

Maddie Fenton is a former member of the League of Assassins: Two issues with this: One, the League isn’t exactly big on letting people walk away from it, and Maddie isn’t exactly trying to hide from them. And two, we have seen Maddie’s canonical biological sister so unless both of them got away– which is even less likely than one person being allowed to leave– and only Alicia is smart enough to stay low-key, this one doesn’t make much sense.

Danny is dating Jason Todd: I get it, Jason is the second hottest Batfam member and he has some surface level similarities with their temporary white streaks and dead guy themes. But outside of that this one just doesn’t make sense. At least not to me.

For hobbies/civilian life, Jason is semi-canonically and very heavily fan-canonly a literature nerd. Danny hates his English class. Danny is often depicted as liking rock music and video games in his downtime, Jason… I don’t know his music taste is, but he is a neat and tidy book nerd.

For vigilante/hero life, Jason is extremely violent and open to using lethal options to the point where he has attempted to kill at least one of his brothers in nearly every timeline and is a mass murderer/serial killer with a higher body count than some of Batman’s rogues. Danny won’t even keep his worst enemies like Skulker trapped in the Fenton Thermos long-term and never even tries to injure potentially dangerous humans like the Guys In White.

These two personalities aren’t a case of being mix and matched, they are very strongly opposed to each other on a philosophical level and a moral level.

Danny is dating Tim Drake: Again, I get where this comes from, and to be fair it makes a bit more sense than Danny X Jason in so far as Tim not being a violent bipolar and him actually seeming to share some hobbies with Danny, but it still doesn’t work in my mind. That stuff that Vlad did to cause Danny to call him a fruitloop? Tim has done almost all of it. He’s a stalker, he clones people when he can’t have the real version, he has used his resources to fuck with people– though Tim’s actions in that sense aren’t nearly as bad as Vlad’s–, he has gone batshit crazy in grief before… need I go on?

So yeah, as much as I like the idea of neurotic sleep-deprived heroes falling into each other’s arms, this doesn’t work. Tim is too fucked up for Danny to want to get involved with. It would be too much like Maddie deciding to give Vlad a shot.

Danny is dating Cassandra Cain: Not as popular as Danny X Jason or Danny X Tim, but I’ve seen a couple of these.

This has some of the same problems as Danny X Jason in that they don’t seem to have any real hobbies in common, but it has the advantage in that their temperaments and personalities are at least somewhat more in line with each other. They both really like and really don’t like fighting, they both have issues with their parents who want them to follow in their footsteps while also being open to killing them, they latch onto friend groups as family, are both anti-killing despite being super lethal living weapons, they tend to be pretty chill out of combat situations to the point where they can even be blase about pretty crazy shit, et cetera. But they don’t have many if any overlapping interests… then again, most people tend to say that Cass and Stephanie are pretty close friends, and I think that is canon in some timelines, and as I will be talking about soon Danny and Steph have a fair bit in common so… yeah.

This one has some really good fanfics running for it though, such as ‘lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood’ by Halfgone over on AO3. A fic that I highly recommend.

Danny is dating Stephanie Brown: Even rarer than Danny X Cass as far as I have been able to see, but it’s also the one that makes the most sense in my eyes. The same snarky attitude, love of puns and messing with the people they are fight, they both have issues with their parents, they fight for things that their fathers’ are completely opposed to, and depending on the DC timeline and your stance on Danny being Dani’s father both are teenaged parents.

They also don’t, as far as I can tell, have anything that makes them opposed to each other. So while this one doesn’t have a ton of civilian weight behind it, it also doesn’t have anything against it. A solid choice despite not being very popular.

I still prefer Danny X Cass or Danny X Raven though.

Danny is gay/bi: I have no problem with this. Let me say that again, I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH THIS. I think that as a fictional character being used in fanfiction things like sexuality can be altered in whatever way the writer desires– it’s different when it’s a canon continuation of an existing work, but fanfiction is anything goes– but dear gods people PLEASE pick better dating options for Danny. I know that people think Jason Todd and Tim Drake are hot and fun characters, and they are, but as I already ranted about they are NOT good dating options for Danny.

Personally, I think Cyborg works better, or some incarnations of Conner Kent.

Danny has been to Krypton: For most timelines used this requires some time travel along with the intergalactic travel, but I find this one to be very fun. Be it just Danny having visited Krypton and having some stories about the place, maybe some souvenirs, or Danny accidentally/on purpose being revered as a god of the planet. It’s a fun addition or starting point to a story.

Kryptonite is Ecto-Candy: This makes no sense and I don’t like it enough to ignore that. Krypton blew up in the mortal universe within the last fifty years according to most canon timelines and even if the ENTIRE planet became Kryptonite– which it might have to be honest, I’m not sure about that– and 50% of it fell into the Infinite Realms– which makes no sense statistically even with natural portals being a thing– that still isn’t a lot of mass for an INFINITE dimension, plus the timeline would make it a relatively very recent thing to ghosts. And that’s ignoring the fact that Kryptonite is not in any way, shape, or form the same thing as Ectoplasm no matter how you split it outside of that one issue that says Kryptonite is the crystalized screams of horror and pain of everyone who died on Krypton.

Danny is a Martian Manhunter Fanboy: No real notes here. It fits, makes sense, and is often used in a fun way.

Danny hates rich people: This one is funny sure, but it doesn’t make sense. Sam is rich. Danny was rich for a bit. Ghost King Danny is beyond rich. Danny is often written in fanfics to be friends with the likes of Pandora and Dorthea who are both rich. Really he just doesn’t like Vlad because of who he is, it has nothing to do with him being rich.

The Justice League abandoned Amity Park: I don’t like this one. It just doesn’t seem like something the Justice League would do. They have too many heroes that specialize in the paranormal and Batman sure as hell wouldn’t let something like an interdimensional portal remain open without being super on top of it and studying it in case of a worst-case scenario like what happened in Reign Storm.

I’ve seen variants of this where the reasoning is that John Constantine labeled it a no go zone to avoid the possibility of a superhero getting possessed and used as a meat suit to cause mass destruction and chaos, which does make more sense, but if that were the case then the JLD would be aware of the situation and would at the very least check in on some of the bigger events like when Undergrowth attacked, Vortex’s whole deal– particularly when his storm covered the entire world except for Amity park– Pariah Dark’s invasion/abduction, when Fright Knight attacked, and when Clockwork showed up and Dark Danny followed suit.

So really this idea just seems like a way to include shallow drama where Danny hates the Justice League or other heroes in general and feels upset that he, as an untrained teenager, was left to defend his town all by himself… just like Static Shock tends to do.

The Justice League thinks Danny is Immortal and hundreds/thousands of years old: No real notes here either. Danny has time traveled in canon, there are a lot of fanon things involving him doing it even more, and I can definitely see him playing into the bit to avoid being treated like a kid who needs to listen to his elders ala Billy Batson as Shazam.

Clockwork is Chronos: This requires a LOT of hoops being jumped through and a lot of ignoring of the mythology of Chronos himself, but they are both super powerful time deities so… I see where it comes from at least. And it allows for stuff like saying Danny and Wonder Woman are family.

______________

There are a lot more tropes and such that I’ve seen here and on dedicated fanfic sites in the Danny Phantom and DPxDC fandoms, but this is already an incredibly long post so I’m going to end things here. If anyone has anything they want to add or comments they want to give, feel free to leave them! Just don’t be a dick and don’t PM me anonymously with insults and threats. I’ll just report and block you.

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boopsiesdaisies · 1 month ago

Text

Check (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Literally my first fanfic since middle school, sorry y'all. I got that Spencer Reid brainrot. ALSO how does this work on Tumblr??? I legit haven't done this since you could fancast on Wattpad.

Spencer Reid x Reader | 1,470 words | Fluff | GN!Reader

Literally you two on the jet playing chess, set in season one/early season two.

“Do not even think about it!” You yelled, “I’m going to win if this is the last thing I do!”

Reid struggled to stifle his crooked smirk. He knew you were just going to get more upset if you saw him smiling. “I was just going to say you’re in check.”

“I’m going to put you in check in a second, Reid.” The chessboard was beginning to mock you. It must have been rigged. There must have been magnets underneath the board changing everything making this impossible to win. Plus Morgan’s soft snorts whenever you yelled at Reid reminded you that the rest of the team was watching you get your ass handed to you.

“Actually you have less than a three percent chance of doing that,” Reid explained. “And if anything about the last six games have been telling then it’s probably lower than that.”

“I swear to God, Reid,” you exclaimed. “I’ll show you what check looks like.”

You weren’t even sure how you got here. Gideon had cornered you after the case saying “he needed to rest on the jet” and that “you should get Reid to teach you how to play chess” something something “it’ll make you a better profiler” something something else. You were bad for not always listening to Gideon’s Dad-isms, but you couldn’t always help it. You wanted to rest! The week in New Mexico had been exhausting. You wanted nothing more than to close your eyes on the jet with your headphones blasting whatever awful audiobook you started before the case that you didn’t really care about and sleep. Sleep like no one could wake you up for another thousand years. Plus, you were pretty sure it was more of the case of Gideon was worried about Reid and less of you needing to be a better profiler. Sure, you weren’t the top of your class but you were far from a fledgling who needed chess to make you better at your job.

Despite that, there you sat. Six lost games of chess later, and only an hour and a half into the four and half hour flight. Maybe it was pathetic to try to fight at this point. The cheat sheet Reid had written up for you felt useless. The pieces all blurred together and what even was the difference between a rook and a bishop?

“Are you going to make a move?” Reid asked.

“Yes! I’m just thinking,” you shifted the way you were sitting, slightly bumping the table, getting a terribly brilliant idea. The pieces had just jumped slightly as you hit the table by accident. You just had to sell it.

“Do you feel that Reid?” You asked, the fake worry dripping like honey from your voice.

“Feel what?” He snapped his head back and forth between you and the side of the jet.

“Oh no! Turbulence!” You shifted your legs again, crossing them differently; in the process you kicked the table from underneath as hard as you could. The chess pieces dramatically went flying much further and harder than you expected. Rooks and pawns scattered across the table and the floor in front of both you and Reid.

“What? There’s no turbulence, you can’t just scatter the pieces because you were losing!” Reid yelled trying to grab pieces and place them back in their positions. “Plus, I have an eidetic memory, I know where the pieces were!”

The rest of the team was laughing; pulled away from their activities to watch the commotion. You groaned and leaned under the table to grab the pieces.

“If you don’t want to play, you don’t have to,” Reid’s face hadn’t fallen, but from the tone of voice part of you felt it was laced with something. It felt reminiscent of disappointment, but like he was trying to mask it.

You sensed it before you processed it and began to speak on pure instinct. “Sorry, Reid, why don’t we reset?”

Part of you wanted to get to know the brainiac doctor better and this was the opportunity to do so, but it would mean admitting you were bad at something. Somehow you were the most competitive person on the team, and Gideon must have known that. You were always getting your nose into arguments trying to win sheerly for the fact of wanting to win, less about caring about a topic. Some people saw that as a flaw, but you always saw it as the trait that got you here. You lived your life out of spite, and competitiveness was the unfortunate consequence of that. By the time you had grabbed the single pawn off the floor, Reid had leaned under the table searching for it too.

“I got it,” you sigh and go to stand up. In the moment of fate, your confidence was struck down even lower to the lowest of clichés. In a flash of an instance, as the two of you attempted to right yourselves and unfold from underneath the table, you hit heads. It was just like those cheesy rom coms that Garcia forced you to watch on your girls’ nights that you pretended to hate.

“Oh shit, sorry Reid–”

“No, I’m sorry– I–I’m–Um–Sorry, I–” Reid stuttered, and you realized just how precarious your position was, nose to nose under the table where no one could see you.

It was the first time you were that close to Reid, the infamous germaphobe who refused handshakes from everyone always seemed to keep his distance from you. You finally got a good look at him. Glasses that framed his face, his soft doe-like brown eyes, and brown hair that curled just so gently under his ears. The heat began to rise to your face, and Reid’s face had the same reaction. The red blush spread from the apples of his cheeks to his ears and down his neck. You cursed the universe that he was exactly your type: gangly limbs, genius-intellect, perfect eyes and all.

Reid practically jumped trying to get out from under the table, hitting his head as he went and sat back at the seat. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and climbed out from under the table. When you resurfaced, you avoided Reid’s gaze, and Morgan’s eyes were the first that you met. As began to realize your mistake, he began to purse his lips and rub his hands up his arms as if he was poorly making out with his imaginary woman.

“Morgan, if that's how you kiss a woman, I feel sorry for Garcia,” you laced your words with as much venom as you could muster.

You turned back to Reid who was carefully lifting and replacing the chess pieces on the squares.

“Did you know that chess was actually called chaturanga when it was first played in India in the 8th century CE? Plus it was actually played on an eight by eight grid and it wasn’t until it began to spread to Europe in the 10th century CE that it began to shift to the chess we’re playing. Even then it would take over a thousand years before either of us would know how to play,” Reid was coping as best as he could, even though you were afraid you broke him. He was relying on his intellect to avoid the topic at hand.

Why was he even so embarrassed? Why were you? It wasn’t like you thought he was attractive. Sure, he was your type! But that didn’t mean anything. You could think a man was hot without wanting to date him. And sure, he was perfect for you, and maybe you were even more competitive than usual because you wanted to impress him but that would be ridiculous.

Oh…

You were down bad.

“I didn’t know that, although I’m sure you can play chess, I think I’m just moving pieces around,” you shamefully admitted.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry, once you know how the piece moves it will get easier,” Reid’s reassurance immediately struck your heart. Damnit.

“Why don’t you just explain it all to me again?” You asked. “Like treat me like I’m a kid, maybe I’ll get it better then.”

“Okay, so there are 32 pieces on a chessboard, and you control 16 of them. There are six types of pieces…”

“You knew what you were doing,” Hotch leaned over to Gideon watching the two members of the team playing chess; staying as carefully out of earshot as he could. Reid carefully re-explaining the pieces, pointing to each one.

“Of course I did,” Gideon said. “If the two of them pined after each other in silence for two more minutes I thought I was going to lose it. Now they have four hours to spend with each other because neither of them will give up.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jason gideon #penelope garcia #fanfic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #chess #fluff #i dont know #how do tags even work

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muiitoloko · 3 months ago

Note

Okay. Hear me out: Snape and the Hogwarts professor/wife. Actually I don't even care *which* Alan character you do, but picture this:

Y/N has had a busy time lately and has been flustered. Their birthday is coming up and they'd love nothing more than to get away from the hullabaloo and relax.

*He* in all his glorious self decides to pitch a tent in the woods with fairy lights and a campfire and everything, at the edge of the woods, and surprises Y/N by taking them on long car ride into the middle of nowhere and they camp out under the stars and maybe get down and busy and dirty, IYKYK (and *I* know you know) in the field beneath the stars.

Please and thank you and have fun :)

Title: Gunslinger’s Love

Summary: On a secluded night in the Australian bush, Elliott Marston surprises his wife with a passionate anniversary celebration. Their love story unfolds amidst the wild beauty of the outback.

Pairing: Elliott Marston × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: Oh, I love this idea! Pitching a tent in the woods, fairy lights, campfires, long car rides, and getting down and busy under the stars—sounds like a dream! 😏 I can already picture it all!

And to keep things interesting, I’ve decided to write it with Elliott! There’s just so many Snape fanfics out there, I thought I'd give some love to a character who doesn’t get enough of the spotlight. Elliott deserves to get in on this magic too, don’t you think? 😉

Also read on Ao3

Elliott urged the horses to move faster, the creak of the wagon’s wheels adding to the quiet tension of the night. The stars glittered above like tiny diamonds scattered across a velvet sky, but all you could focus on was your growing curiosity—and mild annoyance. You clung to Elliott’s waist, your arms wrapped around him as the cool night air nipped at your skin.

“Elliott,” you called out over the sound of the horses’ hooves. “Where on earth are you taking me at such a late hour?”

Elliott adjusted the brim of his hat, his signature Zappa mustache twitching with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “I told you, darling,” he said in that deep, smooth baritone you loved so much, “it’s a surprise.”

You huffed, not entirely convinced. “A surprise in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night? And we’re camping? What if there’s a wolf or—heaven forbid—a snake? I don’t fancy being turned into a midnight snack for some wild animal, Elliott.”

Elliott rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile, patting the rifle strapped to his side. “Woman, I’m the best gunslinger in all of Australia. Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you while I’m around?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “You might be the best gunslinger, but you’re not invincible. And this still doesn’t explain why we’re camping! There are perfectly good beds at home, you know.”

Elliott chuckled, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “You’ll see soon enough, my love. Just sit back and trust me, hmm?”

You gave a playful pout, leaning closer to his ear. “I’m not convinced, but I’ll go along with your little adventure. If I hear so much as a howl, though, you’ll be the one getting a taste of this wagon’s hard bench all night.”

Elliott threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the empty plains. “That’s a fair threat,” he teased, “but I think you’ll change your tune once we get there.”

After what felt like an eternity of bumping along the uneven trail, the wagon finally slowed, and Elliott pulled the horses to a stop. You squinted into the darkness, trying to make out your surroundings, but all you saw were the tall, shadowy outlines of trees.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with curiosity.

Elliott jumped down from the wagon and turned to offer you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You hesitated for a moment, still not entirely sure about this whole camping idea, but you trusted Elliott. Taking his hand, you let him help you down, and together, you walked into the trees.

As you stepped deeper into the forest, the darkness began to give way to a soft, warm glow. Your eyes widened in surprise as you spotted several oil lamps hung from tree branches, their flickering light casting a romantic golden hue over the clearing. A soft blanket had been spread out on the grass, surrounded by cushions, and there were wildflowers tucked into every available crevice.

“Elliott…” you breathed, utterly taken aback by the sight before you.

Elliott stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. “I thought we’d celebrate under the stars this year.”

You turned in his arms, gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and affection. “You did all this for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elliott’s hazel eyes sparkled in the soft light. “Of course,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know it’s not the most conventional way to celebrate, but I wanted something special. Something that reminds us of how simple and beautiful things can be when it’s just the two of us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. “You hopeless romantic,” you teased, though your voice was full of affection. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Elliott raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Just because I’m a ruthless gunslinger doesn’t mean I can’t be romantic,” he said, his voice dripping with charm.

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain, then. It’s…perfect, Elliott. Really.”

He kissed the top of your head before stepping back, guiding you toward the blanket. “I knew you’d come around,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with tenderness.

You then released Elliott from your embrace and approached the romantic scene he had so thoughtfully set up for you. As your eyes scanned the soft blanket, the cushions, and the wildflowers tucked into the crevices of the trees, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of affection for your husband. He wasn’t one for grand displays of emotion, but this…this was different. It felt like a piece of his heart laid bare just for you.

Turning your gaze to Elliott, you saw him pulling the tent out of the wagon, along with the basket of food you had prepared earlier. He made quite the picture—his baritone voice humming quietly as he worked, his Zappa mustache twitching with concentration, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his handsome face in the flickering lamplight. You smiled to yourself as you moved to help him set up the tent.

As soon as Elliott saw you approaching, he shook his head in mock protest. “Now hold on there, darlin’,” he drawled, his Australian accent thicker than usual. “I told you to relax. This is meant to be your night. No need for you to lift a finger.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow as you stood your ground. “Elliott Marston, I’ve been running this household like a well-oiled machine for years. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna sit back while you do all the work. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Elliott chuckled softly, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. “Stubborn as a mule, you are,” he said with a smirk, but his voice carried a deep warmth. “Fine, if it makes you happy, we’ll set this bloody tent up together.”

As the two of you worked side by side, you couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous. The close proximity, the quiet rustle of the forest, and the romantic glow of the lamps brought a playful energy to the air. You caught Elliott sneaking glances at you more than once, and each time he did, your heart fluttered a little faster.

After a few minutes of quiet teamwork, you broke the silence with a teasing tone. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. Our wedding anniversary’s still a good two weeks away.”

Elliott paused, his hands gripping the edge of the tent as he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I know,” he said quietly, his baritone voice losing some of its gruffness. “But I’ve seen how stressed you’ve been, with all the chores and runnin’ the house. You’re always on your feet, always lookin’ after everyone but yourself. I figured, why wait two weeks to celebrate? I thought it’d do us both good to have a bit of time away from all the chaos.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the affectionate smile that spread across your face. “You big softie,” you teased gently, moving closer to him. “I didn’t know you were paying such close attention.”

Elliott smirked, reaching out to pull you into his arms. “I always pay attention, darlin’. I may not be the most romantic bloke, but I notice things. Like how your shoulders tense up when you’ve been workin’ too hard, or how you bite your lip when you’re thinkin’ about a million things at once.”

You leaned into his chest, resting your head against his broad shoulder as his arms tightened around you. “I appreciate it,” you whispered, your voice soft with emotion. “More than you know.”

Elliott’s fingers trailed down your back, his touch firm but gentle. “I reckon I’ve got a good way to help you relax, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “Why don’t you lie down on that blanket, and let me show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me?”

You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you at the way his voice dropped, that familiar commanding tone slipping into his words. “Elliott,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as you looked up at him. “You always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his mustache twitching as a wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s ‘cause I know exactly what you need,” he replied, his eyes darkening with lust. “And I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

You moved toward the blanket, feeling the warm glow of the lamps flicker around you as you settled onto the soft fabric. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so, the distant sounds of the wilderness adding to the intimate atmosphere that Elliott had so carefully prepared. With a contented sigh, you reached for the basket of food you had prepared earlier in the day, the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread mixing with the earthy scent of the forest. But before you began arranging the meal, you set the basket aside, knowing Elliott would want to be part of this shared moment.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him finishing with the tent, his strong hands moving deftly as he secured the last of the pegs in place. Once done, he wiped his hands on his trousers, straightened up, and walked toward you with that signature swagger of his, his Zappa mustache twitching with satisfaction. The sight of him, illuminated by the soft light of the oil lamps, made your heart race. He looked rugged, powerful, and undeniably handsome, the kind of man who could command a room—or a wilderness—with nothing more than a glance.

Elliott knelt beside you, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and placing it carefully to the side. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something more primal that made your breath catch. Without a word, he helped you arrange the food on the blanket, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the simple act of being close to you. His fingers brushed yours now and then, sending little sparks of electricity through your skin.

As the food was spread out, Elliott unbuckled the holster strapped across his chest and carefully laid his pistols and rifle to the side, close enough to reach in case of trouble but far enough to let him relax. The soft clinking of metal was the only sound breaking the silence between you, but the tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

Elliott stretched out beside you, his hazel eyes glimmering in the lamplight as he looked up at the stars scattered across the inky sky. “Look at that,” he murmured, his deep, baritone voice vibrating through the quiet. “Not a damn cloud in sight. Couldn’t have asked for a better night, eh?”

You smiled, leaning back on your hands as you gazed up at the stars too. “No,” you agreed softly, “it’s perfect.”

But your attention wasn’t on the stars for long. You turned your gaze back to Elliott, watching the way the firelight danced across his rugged features, making him look even more handsome. The roughness of his face, the hooked nose, the strong jawline, and that damn mustache—everything about him exuded strength, but tonight, there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you that made your heart flutter.

“You’re starin’, darlin’,” Elliott drawled with a smirk, his voice laced with amusement. “What’s on your mind?”

You shifted, moving closer to him until you were almost touching. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “You went to all this trouble just for me.”

Elliott chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your body tingle. “Ain’t no trouble,” he murmured, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “Nothin’s too much for my girl.”

The way he said it—possessive, protective—sent a shiver of excitement through you. His touch, though light, felt like a promise of something more.

As the night deepened and the stars above burned with a cold, distant light, Elliott rose to gather some nearby branches. His movements were purposeful, each step deliberate as he searched for the driest wood to build a fire. You watched him from your place on the blanket, admiring the way his broad shoulders moved under the fabric of his shirt, the light from the oil lamps casting his features in sharp relief. There was a primal satisfaction in seeing him work, in knowing that this strong, capable man was yours.

With the firewood gathered, Elliott crouched near one of the lamps, carefully lighting a small bundle of kindling before transferring the flame to the pile of branches. Within moments, the fire crackled to life, its warm glow chasing away the night’s chill. Elliott sat back on his heels for a moment, watching the flames dance, before returning to your side.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the Australian bush your only companions. Elliott stretched out beside you on the blanket, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes, now softened by the firelight, met yours, and he gave you that familiar, crooked smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the fire crackled warmly in front of you, Elliott reached over and plucked a piece of roasted meat from the basket, holding it up to your lips with a smirk. “Open up, love,” he said in that deep, commanding baritone, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You playfully rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you obliged, taking the tender morsel from his fingers. The taste was rich, smoky, and perfectly seasoned—the result of hours spent preparing the meal earlier in the day. Elliott’s gaze lingered on you as you chewed, the firelight casting a golden glow on his rugged features.

“Mmm, you sure know how to spoil a girl,” you teased after swallowing, your voice light but full of affection.

“Only the best for you,” he replied, his tone warm but with that familiar edge of possessiveness that always sent a shiver down your spine. He reached for another piece of meat, and this time, you leaned forward and took it directly from his fingers with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes never leaving his.

Elliott’s smirk deepened, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Cheeky little thing,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brush of his lips against yours, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck.

The taste of the roasted meat still lingered on your tongue, mingling with the warmth of his mouth as the kiss grew more urgent. Elliott’s hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. The blanket beneath you was soft, the fire warm, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you—the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the way his lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent your heart racing.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re playing with fire, Mr. Marston,” you whispered, your voice shaky with desire.

“Darlin’,” he replied, his voice low and rough, “I’m more than happy to get burned if it means I get to taste you again.” His words sent a wave of heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but shiver in response.

Elliott’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched your reaction, and he didn’t waste any time closing the distance between you once more. This time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t soft or gentle—it was fierce, hungry, as if he was trying to devour you whole. His hands roamed your body with a roughness that left you gasping, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap.

You straddled him, your skirts bunching up around your thighs as you ground against him, desperate for more of that delicious friction. Elliott groaned into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he pressed you even closer, his arousal hard and insistent beneath you.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, his accent thick and dripping with desire. “Been thinkin’ about this all bloody day.”

You moaned softly in response, your hands fisting in his shirt as you rocked against him, seeking relief from the growing ache between your legs. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Please…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes burning with intensity. “Please what, love?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with an unmistakable edge of command. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with both desire and embarrassment. Elliott always knew how to push your buttons, how to make you beg for what you wanted. It was maddening, but it also made the eventual release that much sweeter.

“Please… touch me,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with need.

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, and he let out a low growl of approval. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips bruising against yours as his hands moved to the laces of your bodice. With practiced ease, he began to undo them, his fingers working quickly as he stripped you of your clothes.

The cool night air kissed your skin as your bodice fell open, and Elliott wasted no time in slipping his hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching as he teased you, his touch both rough and gentle at the same time.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. “So bloody beautiful.”

His words, coupled with the feel of his hands on your skin, sent you spiraling further into desire. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you ground against him, desperate for more. “Elliott… please,” you begged, your voice shaky and full of need.

He let out a dark chuckle, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Patience, love,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “I want to take my time with you.”

But you were beyond patience, your body aching for his touch, for the release that only he could give you. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “I need you.”

The raw need in your voice seemed to break through his restraint, and with a low growl, he flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, between your legs—stoking the fire that burned inside you until you were trembling with need.

Your body trembled beneath Elliott’s touch, every nerve ending ignited by the rough, deliberate way his hands roamed over your skin. He was taking his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver, and moan that escaped your lips. You knew this game well—he loved to tease, to draw out your pleasure until you were begging him for release. And as much as you loved his slow, torturous build-up, tonight you wanted something different. Tonight, you craved something raw, something that would satisfy the urgent need burning within you.

As Elliott’s lips moved to the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands teasingly tracing the curves of your body, you made a decision. You weren’t going to let him take things at his own pace—not this time. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

Before Elliott could continue his slow, deliberate exploration of your body, you reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him up to meet your gaze. His hazel eyes, darkened with lust, flickered with surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but you didn’t give him a chance to question it.

“Elliott,” you murmured, your voice low and husky with desire, “I need you to fuck me… but before that, I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with intent. Elliott’s eyes widened slightly, his nostrils flaring as he took in your request. His Zappa mustache twitched with a smirk, his baritone voice rough as he replied, “You cheeky little minx. You know how to push my buttons, don’t ya?”

You smirked up at him, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a teasing kiss. “I know what I want,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “And right now, I want your cock in my mouth.”

Elliott groaned, the sound low and guttural as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and desire. “You’re a bloody temptress,” he growled, his Australian accent thickening with the intensity of the moment. “But who am I to deny my girl what she wants?”

With that, he shifted, moving to sit back on his heels as he undid the buttons of his trousers with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. You watched, your breath coming in short, eager bursts as he freed himself from the confines of his clothes, his hard cock standing proudly before you, the sight of it making your mouth water with anticipation.

Elliott’s eyes never left yours as he leaned back, bracing himself on one arm while the other hand guided his cock towards your lips. “Go on, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. You licked your lips, your eyes locked on his as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head as you sucked gently, savoring the taste of him.

Elliott let out a low, satisfied groan, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he guided you, his grip firm but not forceful. “That’s it, love,” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that… bloody perfect.”

You moaned softly around his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver of pleasure through both of you as you took him deeper, your lips stretching around his thick length. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath your hands, the way his breath hitched every time your tongue flicked over a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Elliott growled, his accent rough and raw as he watched you, his hazel eyes dark with lust. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

But that was exactly what you wanted. You hollowed your cheeks, increasing the suction as you took him deeper, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with the movements of your mouth. The taste of him, the feel of him filling your mouth, sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, and you moaned again, the sound vibrating through him and driving him wild.

Elliott’s grip on your hair tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he fought to maintain control. “Christ, you’re good at this,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “But I’m not done with you yet, love. I wanna see you take every inch of me, feel you clench around my cock while I fuck you senseless.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you knew that as much as you wanted to bring him to the edge with your mouth, you wanted even more to feel him inside you, to have him bury himself deep within you as he lost control. With one final, deliberate swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock, you pulled back, releasing him with a wet, needy gasp.

Elliott’s eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and lust as he watched you, his chest heaving with the effort to control himself. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “But you’re gonna get exactly what you’re askin’ for.”

Before you could respond, Elliott was on you, his hands rough and demanding as he pushed you back onto the blanket, his body covering yours with a fierce intensity that took your breath away. He didn’t waste any time, his hands pushing up your skirts as he settled between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your entrance with a delicious, teasing pressure.

You gasped, your back arching as you felt the heat of him against you, your body trembling with anticipation. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice shaky with need. “Please… don’t tease me… I need you inside me.”

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. “You want it, love?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, and you’re gonna love it.”

With that, he thrust into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful, unrelenting motion that left you gasping for breath. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Elliott groaned, his voice rough and raw as he began to move, his hips driving into you with a fierce, demanding rhythm. “So tight… so bloody perfect.”

You moaned, your hands clawing at his back as you clung to him, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. The intensity of his movements, the way he filled you so completely, drove you wild with desire, your mind consumed by the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please… don’t stop…”

But Elliott had no intention of stopping. His thrusts only grew harder, deeper, each one driving you closer to the edge as he took you with a rough, primal intensity that left you breathless. The sound of your bodies coming together, the heat of the fire, the feel of his cock stretching you with every thrust—it was all too much, too perfect, and you could feel yourself spiraling towards release.

“You’re mine, love,” Elliott growled, his voice thick with command as he drove into you, his hips slamming against yours with bruising force. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking with pleasure as your body trembled beneath him. “I’m yours, Elliott… only yours…”

Elliott’s growl of satisfaction sent a shiver down your spine as he pounded into you with renewed vigor, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his back, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you clung to him, your body begging for release.

But Elliott’s movements became more deliberate, his rough urgency giving way to a slower, more sensual rhythm. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue circling the sensitive bud made you gasp, your back arching as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

His teeth grazed your nipple lightly before sucking it deeper into his mouth, sending a shiver of arousal straight to your core. His hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race. You felt every inch of him inside you, each slow, deliberate thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His balls gently slapped against you with each movement, a rhythmic reminder of the intimate connection you shared in this secluded, star-lit forest.

The world around you faded into the background—the soft rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird, the crackle of the fire. None of it mattered. The only thing that existed was Elliott—his body pressed against yours, his cock filling you so completely, his mouth worshiping your breasts with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

Elliott’s lips moved from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and flicking against your other nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. His mustache tickled your skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations that had you trembling beneath him. The pace of his thrusts slowed even further, each one deep and unhurried, as if he was savoring the feeling of being inside you, of making love to you under the stars.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, your fingers grazing the warm, taut skin of his back as you traced the muscles there. The contrast between the rough fabric of his shirt and the smoothness of his skin was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough of the feel of him, the way his body responded to your touch.

“Bloody hell, love,” Elliott murmured against your skin, his baritone voice thick with emotion as he pressed a kiss to the valley between your breasts. “You feel so damn good… so warm and soft."

You moaned softly in response, your hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, the curve of his spine as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. “Elliott,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes locking onto yours as he slowed his thrusts even more, each movement measured, deliberate. “I’m not going anywhere, love,” he growled softly, his voice full of promise. “I’m right here… and I’m gonna make sure you feel every bit of me.”

The way he spoke, the raw desire in his voice, made your heart flutter. You could feel the depth of his love, his need to connect with you on the most intimate level. And as he continued to move inside you, his thrusts slow and deep, the sensation of his cock filling you, stretching you, made your body tremble with pleasure.

Elliott’s lips returned to your breasts, trailing kisses along your skin, his mustache brushing against your sensitive flesh. Each touch, each kiss, was like a spark, igniting the fire that burned between you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he moved, his cock sliding in and out of you with a languid, sensual rhythm that left you gasping for breath.

“Feel that, love?” Elliott whispered, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How perfectly we fit together?”

You could only moan in response, your fingers digging into his back as you arched up to meet his thrusts, your body aching for more. The slow, deliberate pace was driving you wild, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you that built and built until you thought you might explode from the intensity of it.

Elliott’s mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “You’re mine,” he growled softly, his voice filled with possessiveness and love. “Always mine."

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m yours, Elliott… always.”

His growl of satisfaction vibrated against your skin, and he shifted his weight slightly, driving into you at a slightly different angle that made you cry out in pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he filled you so completely, the way his body moved against yours, the heat of the fire warming your skin as the cool night air brushed over you.

Elliott’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting them slightly so he could thrust even deeper, his movements still slow and deliberate, but with a renewed intensity that made your toes curl. His cock filled you, stretched you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Christ, love,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so bloody perfect… so tight around me.”

You whimpered in response, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations he was wringing from you. Every nerve ending was alive with pleasure, every touch, every thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so close… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity as he looked down at you, his thrusts slowing even more, each movement deep and deliberate. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of command and affection. “Come for me… let go.”

His words were your undoing. With a final, deep thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock like a vise. You cried out his name, your voice echoing through the forest as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you, your body trembling with the force of it.

Elliott groaned, his own release following moments later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot seed. He kept moving, riding out both of your orgasms, his thrusts slow and deliberate, prolonging the pleasure until you were both spent, your bodies trembling with the intensity of the experience.

When it was over, Elliott collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hands slid up to cup your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that made your heart swell with love.

“Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of affection and exhaustion. “I love you… now and always.”

You smiled weakly, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasm as you looked up at him. “I love you too, Elliott,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Now and always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the starry sky, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that this moment—this connection—was something special, something that would only grow stronger with time. The love you shared, the way you fit together so perfectly, was something to be cherished, something that would last a lifetime.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #elliott marston x reader #elliott marston

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han1nn · 2 months ago

Text

Old Memories

Frank Castle x male!reader

Warnings: scars all over body, self-hatred, swearing, self-harm, disabled!reader (missing arm), kissing, really bad injuries, (gore?)

Summary: Frank lives in your apartment, because he can’t buy one, he’s still a wanted criminal. Frank and you are best friends since the army. But things changed after Frank became the Punisher, he always try to get distance between the two of you. He doesn’t want to lose someone else that mean something to him. (He don’t want you to get into his „the punisher“ situations)

Then someday, Frank saw the scars all over your body and remembered the old times again, how much you mean to him, how many moments you guys shared, how you would‘ve give your life for Franks […].

Frank want to have a better look at your scars and the situation get out of control…

Type: angst, fluff

[use of y/n]

A/N: this story is so long in my mind I had to write it! Hopefully you guys will like my idea too. And English isn’t my first language so maybe I will have some mistakes in this fanfic. Also this is written in 2024 not in 2017 :)

| -> Before I start I wanted to say that my request are always open, don’t be shy and send me what comes in your mind! I will read and respond every message I see! 💌

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21.05.2017, 18:46

y/n stand in the kitchen and cooked, he cooked dinner for him and Frank. Of course he made some finished products in the microwave, it’s very hard to cook with only one arm. As the dinner was finished he just made two plates and sat down, ready to eat. But y/n wanted to wait for his „best friend“ Frank. He sits on the couch and watches the news on the TV, for more information about criminals he could kill.

Frank didn’t really spoke with y/n, only if it’s important, he tried to take his distance from him. y/n blames himself, he hates himself and he thought this is all his fault. He thought Frank would hate him and thats because he take his distance and doesn’t talk to y/n anymore.

He still sit there and just stare on his dinner, waiting for his best friend, the only sounds y/n can hear is the quiet sound of the TV. He wanted to call Frank, he really wanted but he didn’t dare. y/n took his fork in his hand and took a bite of the dinner. He didn’t eat much, stood up and walking right into the living room where Frank sits on the couch.

y/n didn’t dare to look at him and only said:

"I made dinner.."

his voice was quiet and low, he don’t want to come in a actual conversation with Frank because he’s scared, scared to make the situation between them even worse than it is.

Frank looked a few seconds on the TV, looked up and gave y/n a cold look. He stands up and just walked past over him. As this happened y/n heart skipped a beat. He can barely feel him even when he didn’t touched him.

y/n walked into his bedroom and slamming the door. The feelings of hate that had been in him now all came up again. He thought everything is his fault, he always asked himself what he should do to make the situation better between them. He asked himself what he done and why Frank kept ignoring him, why he isn’t the same person like in the army. He’s tired, tired of Frank and his feelings for him.

He missed the old Frank, the Frank who cared for him, who laughed with him, who was actually still his best friend..

Flashback: 04.10.2013, Afghanistan

"Let go of him! I will kill you, I will kill all of you, you little bastards!"

Frank screamed and yelled at the terrorist who tortured y/n and forced his best friend to watch. Frank was frustrated he didn’t know what to do, his best friends screams shall into his ears over and over again. Frank can’t do anything, he’s tied up into a chair and can’t move at all. He wished he could do something. The terrorist laughed at both of them and they found the whole situation is very amused

Before y/n got tortured, they had to decide who had to get tortured and who had to watch, it was like a sick game that those terrorists wanted to "play". Frank’s best friend immediately said that he wanted to be chosen, he literally begged to be tortured only to keep Frank save.

"Please! Please, pick me! Do whatever you want with me but don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt my comrade!"

Frank was in shock and wasn’t agree with it, but for the terrorist, the decision clear: y/n should get tortured and Frank had to watch.

It was disturbing and horrible to watch his friend get hurt like this. Frank was so frustrated that he almost started to cry. y/n‘s body was now full with wounds, some long, some thick, some bigger, some smaller, the only thing Frank‘s best friend knew, is that everything hurts. And if this wasn’t enough, they even cut his left arm off too. Frank can see is how y/n‘s eyes rolled back and he fainted because of the pain, seeing how his best friend fell on the ground. The terrorist laughed at him and one of them is stepping closer to Frank.

"Look at your friend, laying there almost dead! Now he isn’t so brave like he acted before, huh?"

The terrorists were mocking Frank who was still tied up on the chair. He had so much anger in him. He wished he could just do something.

Before they can start to hurt Frank, the army group was storming into the small room and shoot the terrorists. The group can see y/n laying exhausted and fainted on the floor, his body really looks like a mess.

It would definitely leave scars on his body

These injury’s on Frank’s best friend’s body are definitely very deep and dangerous. Frank didn’t know if he would survive this. It doesn’t seem like y/n would survive this. After one of his mates cut the rope that tied Frank up, he immediately crawled to y/n and held him in his arms. He can’t help but cry and screaming at the army group that they should bring y/n immediately to the army aid station.

After a while they brought the two friends into the army aid station. y/n was laying in coma for 3 days but he managed it and survived. Frank was sitting on a chair, next to y/n‘s sickbed, waiting for his best friend to finally wake up. 3 days in a row Frank was sitting there and waited for his best friend to wake up. After the days have passed by, y/n finally woke up and Frank was still sitting on that chair.

"Frank..?"

As Frank heard this, he raised his head and glanced over his best friend but then his face changed into frustration. He isn’t sure if he should be happy now that his best friend woke up, or if he should be angry because y/n had given his life for Franks. Of course Frank decided to be mad, his aggression always get the control over him. He started to yell at y/n, why he done this and why he would give his own life for Franks.

At these questions, y/n only smiled weakly as respond, he was to weak to speak now.

Present day: 19:12

y/n was lost in his thoughts, about the old times. The times where Frank seemed to care, where Frank was still really his best friend. He thought about those terrible things that the terrorists done to him and how many scars they left on his body. y/n is grabbed under his shirt and felt every scar on his body, over his stomach, his chest, his neck, his rips, everywhere.

He thought about how much Frank must hate this disgusting body of his best friend, how he must missed him as the brave and "normal" soldier. He felt like he isn’t enough to be Frank‘s best friend anymore.

His fingertips started to travel harder on his body. y/n hates this feeling, this feeling not to be enough. He felt all his scars on different spots on his body. He started to scratch all over them, he thought he deserved this, deserved to be punished because he isn’t good enough. He groaned in pain as his fingernails dogged into his scars, scratching them. he can feel how his scars started to bleed, how they turn into wounds again.

y/n groaned even more, almost too loud. He was just so frustrated and sad that he didn’t even noticed how loud he has been. y/n was just so insecure about his body and angry at himself that he isn’t enough for Frank.

The heavy footsteps of y/n‘s best friend are coming closer and closer, he want to know why such noises coming out of y/n‘s room. The door cracked open, as Frank’s cold gaze meet his best friend. His expression immediately changed into anger as he saw y/n huddled on the floor, crying and scratching his scars under his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

The Punisher immediately stumbled over to his best friend and grabbed his arm, hard, almost to hard to bare for y/n. He stopped y/n from hurting himself. Frank noticed how the scars were freshly opened by the own fingernails of his friend. y/n still lays on the floor and crying, now Frank, the person y/n loved, his best friend, saw what he’s doing to himself. He must be even more disgusted than before.

"Why would you do that?! Look at you! You hurt yourself so badly! I can’t see you like that! It reminds me too much of-"

Frank cut his own sentence as he noticed how emotional he became. His cold and angry expression returned. His grip on y/n‘s arm only tightened as Frank leaned forward his old comrade.

"Don’t ever do that again, you understand?! Fuck, look at your wounds! They’re bleeding! You just look like the day you got tortured! The day were you almost died! I can’t- I can’t see you like this!"

Frank Castle, yes, the punisher almost cried at the sight of his best friend, laying on the floor and scratching his own scars. Frank himself lays down beside y/n and wrapped his arms around him, very tightly, like he wanted to protect him.

"Why would you do that..? I can’t understand it. Why would you scratch the scars open that saved my life?"

The smaller man in Franks arms is responding the hug, he didn’t know what else to do. y/n was in the arms of his secret lover and he enjoyed it, he loved every second of it. Finally he got some attention.

"I- I know you hate me and.. that you think my body looks disgusting.."

Franks strong arms tightened around the smaller man as he heard those horrible words. Without a word the Punisher grabbed y/n‘s wrist and pushed himself on top of his best friend.

"I could never find you disgusting and I definitely don’t hate you! You’re the most strongest and bravest man I know. you sacrificed yourself for me and think I would take my distance because of your body?"

Frank was on top of y/n and held him down, so he can’t stand up anymore. The punishers grip was just too strong.

"You mean too much to me! The only reason why I pushed you away was to keep you save! I can’t believe you thought the whole time I was disgusted by you. Get these thoughts out of your head!"

Frank knew that y/n wouldn’t believe him, so he decided to lean down to his neck and stroke his hair.

"I.. I wanted to leave your apartment tonight, wanted to leave you to keep you save. I know that you’re probably aren’t save when I live here, but I also can’t leave you now, not when I see how much you‘re suffering. You know I’m still your best friend, right?"

The punisher mumbled into the neck of his best friend. His mouth was right against his ear, his breathing was heavy against y/n‘s neck. The smaller man under Frank was wrapping his one and only arm around him, wanting to hold him tight and never let him go.

"You really mean that?"

y/n asked with tears in his eyes as he sobbed uncontrollably. The punisher cursed under his breath, he just never noticed how much his best friend struggled as he pushed him away. He wanted to leave y/n completely tonight, just ran away and never coming back to keep him save.

Frank knew he had many enemys and he was afraid that something could happen to his best friend again. He was afraid that y/n could get hurt again just like in the army. Frank already failed keeping him save back then, how could he ever keep him save in New York? But the punisher also knew he couldn’t leave y/n now, not when he was crying under him.

"Of course I mean it."

Frank wasn’t really a man of words, he’s a man of actions. Words aren’t enough for him, he wanted to show his friend how much he meant to him, how beautiful he thought y/n is. The punisher had to show it somehow to his comrade, but how?

Frank‘s hand were leaving y/n‘s wrist and his hands wander down his shirt, ready to pull it up. He wants to see his friends body, to see all of him, just everything. The taller man looked down at the smaller one, searching for permission in the other ones eyes.

"Can I..?"

The punisher asked with his deep and hoarsely voice. His best friend under him was confused but nodded. y/n didn’t know what the taller man above him wants to do but he let him, he trusted him.

Frank pushed y/n‘s shirt up until he can see his whole chest. His eyes run over the whole body under him, taking in all the details. y/n‘s scars, his left shoulder where his other arm used to be, his masculine features, Franks eyes were drinking the sight under him. The punisher slowly put his hand on the stomach of his best friend. Y/n let out a gasp as he felt the warm hand on his belly, exploring the area there.

"W-what are you doing..?"

y/n asked breathless as the hand on his stomach touched and caressed the skin and scars there. Even both of Frank’s hands were working on the stomach of his best friend now, tracing the scars there, feeling how beautiful he is to him.

"Shh.. just relax. I just want to have a better look at you. Is that okay?"

y/n was confused but he gave Frank his permission by nodding at his question. The smaller man laying on the floor can’t help but enjoy his best friends big hands all over his stomach. It felt good and right. Even when he shouldn’t feel that way he still can’t help it.

Frank looked into y/n‘s eyes, seeing how much his best friend liked being touched. He was probably touch-starved. When was the last time y/n has been intimate with someone? He just can’t remember, but is this what these men are doing even intimate? It is, for y/n it is intimate and he believes that Frank thought the same. y/n is already flushed all over, his whole body had a pink tone because he felt so hot.

The bigger man above him noticed this and chuckled lowly.

"You enjoy this? Feels good, huh? My big hands on your beautiful body."

y/n blushed so hard at his words. He couldn’t believe that his best friend was saying this. Does he mean everything he says, y/n wonders but in Franks eyes he can only see pure admiration and honesty.

"Your body is a testament of what happened to you, of how strong you are and of how you saved my life. I could never hate you. I could never hate this body."

The punisher leaned closer and he slowly headed his way down to the chest of his old comrade.

"I‘m gonna kiss you all over, I‘m gonna show you how much you mean to me and how much I love this body. Is that alright with you?"

Open Ending

(idk if I should continue but please read it, give me feedback and tell me if I should continue!💓)

——————————————————————————

I worked so long on this fanfic and I don’t even know if it’s good. Sometimes I think I‘m so mean by creating such a bloody way of a backstory☹️

Please give me feedback and more fanfic ideas!!💓

45 notes · View notes

killerelysia · 8 days ago

Text

Before the Midnight bell (part1)- Ronin x G.N Reader (Birthday special)

The world may never understand his love—may never see the beauty in the brokenness he had created—

Happy Birthday, Ronin!

I don’t know where to even begin, but here it goes.

I’ve never met anyone quite like you., and that’s what makes you so special. You’ve made me see the world in ways I didn’t think were possible—through the chaos, the darkness, and the little moments of strange beauty. You make everything feel… more intense. More alive.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for just being you—for your twisted way of caring, your brutal honesty, and the way you make me feel like the world is ours to twist and shape. You’ve always been my protector, even when it doesn’t look like it. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Today’s your day, and I want it to be as crazy and unforgettable as you are. Here’s to more madness, more chaos, and more love (in our own twisted way).

I’m lucky to share this ride with you, Ronin. I’ll always be here—through every bloody, beautiful moment.

Happy Birthday.

With all my weird little love, Y/N..

Hey, I hope this is real..?

Ronin x G.N Reader (It's a fallen angel reader from my fanfic for Ronin! I didn't finish it but Hehe Hehe!)

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 15k!

TW: Blood etc

How long!?

Ronin’s birthday was coming up, and for the first time, you felt both excitement and a hint of nervousness bubbling inside you. It wasn’t just any birthday this time—it was his first as your boyfriend. Your actual boyfriend. No manipulative games or quasi-relationship joke hiding behind twisted titles. This time, it was real.

The thought made your cheeks flush with warmth as you absentmindedly plucked at your sweater sleeve. What could you even do for him? Ronin wasn’t exactly the type to go all soft for traditional romantic gestures, but at the same time, he deserved something thoughtful. Something special.

When you couldn’t figure it out yourself, you turned to Angel for help.

The phone call had started simple—just asking her what kinds of things Ronin liked—but within minutes, it spiraled into giggles and brainstorming.

“Well,” Angel began, her voice teasing through the speaker. “For one, apple crumble ice cream. He’s obsessed. I swear, it’s like his one soft spot.”

You tilted your head, the corner of your lip tugging upward. “Ice cream?”

“Yes, and it has to be apple crumble. No substitutes.” She laughed lightly. “Also, anything horror-related. "You could probably scare him with some creepy prank and he’d still be grinning like an idiot. Oh! And vinyl records. He used to collect them like crazy. We’d spend hours in those little secondhand record stores."

“Wait, you guys used to date, huh?” you asked, more curious than anything else.

“Uh-huh.” Angel didn’t even try to sugarcoat it, her tone light and nonchalant. “But don’t worry, it’s ancient history. Besides, you’re better for him than I ever was.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “...Really?”

“Absolutely,” she said, warmth lacing her words. “Ronin’s a hard one to figure out, you know? But you... you don’t try to fix him. You’re just there. Healing him in your own way, piece by piece.”

The words settled in your chest, bringing a small, shy smile to your lips. You didn’t know about healing, but you did care about him—enough that jealousy didn’t even cross your mind when it came to his past. It was part of who he was, just like his sharp smirks and terrible habit of leaving his dirty boots on your couch.

“Well,” you said after a beat, grinning despite yourself. “I still need to figure out how to surprise him.”

Angel hummed thoughtfully before chiming in, “Okay, hear me out. What if you made the apple crumble ice cream? It’d mean way more than just buying it.”

Your eyes widened. “You think I could do that?”

“Absolutely. It’s easy! I’ll even send you the recipe. Trust me, he’ll love it.”

The idea lodged itself in your head, and before long, the two of you were laughing together, imagining Ronin’s surprise. It felt strange and wonderful—planning something sweet and thoughtful instead of just surviving the chaos of your usual lives.

“I can’t believe how cute you two have gotten,” Angel teased before the call ended. “You’re like this innocent little ray of sunshine, even after, y’know... the whole fallen angel thing.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, cheeks burning as you said goodbye and ended the call.

With the recipe saved on your phone and your determination set, you leaned back on the couch, mind swirling with ideas. This birthday was going to be perfect.

You were so lost in thought, though, that you didn’t notice the faint sound of footsteps creeping closer.

Suddenly, a voice whispered in your ear, low and playful. “Peekaboo.”

You yelped, jumping nearly a foot in the air, arms flailing as you landed unceremoniously on your butt.

Ronin doubled over with laughter, his crowbar leaning against the wall as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, my god, the way you jumped—” He barely got the words out between fits of cackling.

“Ronin!” you whined, pouting as you rubbed your sore tailbone. “That’s not funny!”

“It’s hilarious,” he countered, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You did the full Mickey Mouse jump and everything. You should’ve seen your face.”

You crossed your arms, trying to glare at him, but the laughter bubbling beneath his grin was contagious. Before you knew it, you were laughing too, the sound light and unguarded.

Ronin plopped down beside you on the floor, still smirking. “So, what were you sitting here looking so serious about? You looked like you were trying to solve a math problem or something.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the recipe still glowing on your phone screen. Panicking, you quickly locked the screen and tucked the phone behind you. “N-nothing!” you stammered. “Just... thinking!”

He raised a brow, clearly skeptical but not pushing it. “Mm-hmm. Sure.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the quiet filling the space between his teasing and your flustered silence. His presence was warm beside you, grounding in a way that made your racing thoughts slow just a little.

“You’re weird, y’know that?” he said suddenly, his tone lighter.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Most people would’ve run for the hills by now. But you? You’re still here. Still all...” He gestured vaguely at you, his lips quirking into an almost affectionate smirk. “...you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you glanced away, hugging your knees to your chest. “Well... I guess I just like being around you.”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced back, you caught a flicker of something soft in his expression before he covered it up with his usual bravado.

“Whatever, angel,” he muttered, ruffling your hair as he stood up. “Don’t go breaking anything while I’m gone.”

You huffed, smoothing your hair back down as he sauntered off, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

This birthday was going to be perfect. He might tease you for being so earnest, but you knew deep down he’d appreciate it. Because underneath all the posturing, Ronin cared—maybe even more than he let on.

And you? You cared too. Enough to try, to surprise him, to make this the best birthday he’d ever had.

Ronin extended his hand to you, still grinning from ear to ear, his laughter tapering off into soft chuckles. You took his hand, and he effortlessly pulled you to your feet, the smirk on his face never faltering.

“You good?” he asked, tilting his head, clearly still amused by your earlier reaction.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, brushing yourself off and trying to recover what little dignity you had left. “And for the record, you’re terrible for scaring me like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst,” he teased, his voice dripping with faux arrogance. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile betrayed you. “Anyway,” you said, trying to steer the conversation, “I actually... prepared something for you.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow quirked, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Prepared something? What, like food?”

“Yes, like food.” You placed your hands on your hips, trying to act exasperated. “I thought maybe you’d like a decent meal for once, instead of... I don’t know, whatever you scrape together while you’re out doing... whatever it is you do.”

His grin widened, and he stepped closer, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You cooked for me?”

You nodded, cheeks warming as you looked away. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I do this every day.”

“Well, color me impressed,” he said, leaning back with a lazy smirk. “Guess I’ll have to see if it’s edible first.”

“Ronin!” you huffed, playfully smacking his arm.

He laughed, stepping aside and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Lead the way, chef.”

The two of you moved to the kitchen, where you’d already plated the food you made. Ronin eyed the spread, his expression unreadable as he took it all in.

“Looks good,” he admitted, surprising you. But as he leaned forward to inspect it, he added, “Though I didn’t get any blood on my mouth today, so I’m not sure if it’ll hit the spot.”

You froze for a second, his casual tone catching you off guard. “Uh... you mean...”

“Killing,” he said nonchalantly, grabbing a fork and poking at the food. “Been doing a lot of it lately. Guess you noticed, huh?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. “Well... yeah. I mean, you’ve been, uh, busy. Is there... a reason for it?”

Ronin’s hand paused, his fork hovering just above his plate. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, his usual playful demeanor seemed to dim.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said finally, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

“Okay,” you said softly, nodding like the obedient little toy he seemed to think you were.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re cute when you do that, y’know. All wide-eyed and nodding like that. Like you’re afraid to push me too far.”

“I just...” You trailed off, unsure how to respond.

He smirked again, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. “Relax, angel. I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask me to.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly changed the subject. “You must be tired. Why don’t we do something fun instead? Take your mind off... whatever it is.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Fun, huh? What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something. Anything. Just... not work. You deserve a break.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Alright, how about this—are you free tomorrow?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Good,” he said, his smirk growing. “Then clear your schedule. I’ve got plans for us

After dinner, the night began to wind down. You stretched your arms over your head, stifling a yawn as you cleared the plates and tucked them into the sink for tomorrow’s version of you to handle. Ronin was already on his way to the bedroom, casually stripping off his hoodie as he went. You didn’t miss the way his muscles moved under the dim light, but you quickly turned away, trying not to overthink it.

As you tidied up a few last-minute things, the thought of sleep became more and more appealing. But not before you indulged in one of your newfound comforts: stealing Ronin’s clothes.

You grabbed one of his oversized hoodies from the back of a chair and slipped into it, the fabric smelling faintly of motor oil, leather, and something distinctly him. It hung loosely on your frame, swallowing you in its warmth. Pairing it with a pair of shorts, you shuffled toward the bedroom, relishing the small joys that came with being close to him.

When you entered, Ronin was already sprawled on the bed, scrolling lazily through his phone. His legs were crossed, and he looked like the epitome of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, before a familiar urge bubbled up.

“Alright,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “Bedtime.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sound like my mom. What’s next, tucking me in?”

You grinned, already making your way to his side of the bed. “Exactly that.”

He groaned, exaggerated and dramatic, but didn’t stop you as you grabbed the blankets and started fussing over him.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.

“And yet, you’re letting me do this,” you teased, tucking the blanket snugly around him like he was some kind of overgrown child.

He rolled his eyes but stayed still, indulging you with a resigned sigh. “Happy now?”

“Very,” you replied, stepping back to admire your handiwork.

You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “Good night, Ronin.”

Turning toward the couch on the far side of the room, you started to make your way over, already mentally preparing for the uneven cushions.

But before you could settle in, you felt a tug on your wrist. You looked down to see Ronin’s hand gripping yours, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

“Going to sleep?” you replied, a little confused by the question.

“On the couch?” He tugged again, gently this time. “You’re my partner now. Why are you still sleeping over there?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to address it so directly. “I... I didn’t think you’d mind,” you said softly. “I just—”

“You just what?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was a weight to it, an insistence that you answer honestly.

You hesitated, your free hand fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I thought... maybe you’d prefer it that way. Because of... you know.”

Ronin’s expression darkened slightly, but his grip on your wrist didn’t falter. “Because of Ther?” he asked bluntly, cutting through your hesitation.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to make you feel like I was... trying to replace them. I know I can’t. And I wouldn’t want to. I just... I thought maybe it’d be easier for you if I kept some distance.”

He let out a long breath, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. “What do you think of me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking what you think,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re the one who’s scared I’m hung up on someone else. Do you think I’m the type to do that to you?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I don’t think you’d ever see Ther in someone else. You’re... you’re not like that. You care too much, even if you don’t like showing it.”

He smirked faintly at that, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade.

“I just...” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I know you loved them. And I know I’m not them. But that’s okay. I don’t need to be. I’m just happy I get to be part of your life, even if it’s not the same.”

For a moment, Ronin didn’t say anything. His eyes searched yours, his usual post-ironic mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw underneath.

Then, slowly, a grin broke across his face, though it was softer than usual. “You’re something else,” he said, shaking his head.

You smiled back at him, feeling a little lighter. “So... we’re okay?”

“More than okay,” he said. “But if you think I’m letting you sleep on that couch again, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Before you could protest, he tugged on your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. You stumbled slightly, but he caught you, his hands firm yet gentle as they guided you onto the mattress.

“Ronin—”

“Nope,” he said, cutting you off. “No arguments. You’re staying here.”

You looked at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “Unless you’ve got a problem with it.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “No problem.”

“Good.” He shifted to make room for you, pulling the blankets over the both of you. “Now get some sleep, angel.

The quiet settled in as you nestled closer against Ronin’s chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security. For all his sharp edges, Ronin had a warmth to him, one that you craved more than you liked to admit. His arm draped loosely around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, and you could feel the slight tension in his hold, like he wasn’t entirely sure how much was too much.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of his hoodie. “Ronin?”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled, his eyes half-lidded, but you could tell he was still awake.

“Can I ask you something?”

He groaned softly, cracking one eye open. “You’re not about to get all serious on me right before bed, are you?”

“No,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “It’s just... something I’ve been thinking about.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push you away. “Alright, spit it out.”

You hesitated, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “You’re really... um, touchy, sometimes. Like, not in a bad way! I mean, I like it.” You tripped over your words, your face heating up as you tried to explain. “I just... you seem like you need it. A lot.”

Ronin let out a low, dramatic groan, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not seriously analyzing my cuddle habits, are you?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed but also determined to ask. “I’m not analyzing! I’m just curious. Is it... a thing for you? Being touchy, I mean.”

His eyes flicked back to you, and for a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual sarcastic comments. But instead, he sighed, his hand running through his plum-colored hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Guess you could say I’m a bit touch-starved. Always have been.”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. “Touch-starved?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what it means,” he said, smirking slightly. “I’m not gonna spell it out for you.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I know what it means! I just... I didn’t think you’d say it like that. You’re so... you.”

He snorted, his fingers tapping lightly against your hip. “Yeah, well, even I’ve got my shit, alright? Not exactly a lot of hugs going around in my past. So, sue me if I’m a little touchy right now."

He stiffened for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t start with me.”

“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“You’re not teasing,” he said flatly. “You think you’re teasing, but you’re not.”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I totally am!”

He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Kid, you don’t have a teasing bone in your body. It’s cute, though. Like watching a puppy try to bark for the first time.”

You frowned, trying to think of something witty to say back, but your mind drew a blank. Instead, you settled for sticking your tongue out at him, which only made him laugh harder.

“See? Case in point,” he said, his smirk widening.

You huffed, turning away from him, but his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual sarcasm. “I’m not complaining. You being... you? That’s what makes it good. So don’t go trying to change it, alright?”

You turned back to him, your cheeks warm as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, resting his chin on top of your head. “Now go to sleep before you make me say more sappy shit.”

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. “Good night, Ronin.”

“Night, angel.”

Ronin stretched out on the bed, his body heavy with the kind of groggy satisfaction that came from sleeping far longer than he usually allowed himself. He blinked a few times, his gaze shifting to the empty space beside him. You were gone.

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and he rubbed at his face. Fresh air, maybe? he thought, letting his arm flop onto the bed. He wasn’t the clingy type, a mantra he didn’t quite believe but stubbornly repeated anyway. Touch-starved, not needy EVEN NOT THAT!, he muttered internally, rolling out of bed.

Still, the quiet absence in the room felt louder than it should have. As he threw on his hoodie and padded down the hall, he shook his head.

Shut it, Ronin

His own voice in his mind was sharp, scolding. They’re not your lifeline, and you don’t need someone to hold your damn hand through every second of the day.

He paused at the door to the garage, his gaze drifting over the tools hanging neatly on the walls. Ironic, wasn’t it? How someone like him, who prided himself on rejecting everything Christianity had tried to hammer into his skull, found solace in someone like you. A figure who seemed to embody everything he’d hated about faith: hope, forgiveness, devotion. Yet, here he was, falling into step with you without ever realizing it. You weren’t an answer to a prayer—Ronin didn’t pray anymore. But somehow, you’d become something he couldn’t deny. Something he hadn’t planned. You left everything for him too. He knows it was for your own good according to him.

But-----

He scoffed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned toward the basement. A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he followed it, his boots creaking against the wooden stairs as he descended.

There you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor with your phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. You were so focused you didn’t even hear him approach until his voice broke the silence.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

You flinched so hard your phone nearly flew out of your hands. “Jeez, Ronin!” you said, clutching your chest. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?”

His smirk spread slowly, a smug, lopsided thing. “I wasn’t sneaking. You’re just jumpy. Seriously, though. The basement? What’re you doing?”

You scrambled to your feet, your cheeks flushing as you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Nothing! I just… needed some fresh air.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more stupidly amused. “Fresh air? In the basement? Yeah, sure. Makes perfect sense.”

You huffed, brushing past him and heading for the stairs. “I needed to think, okay? That’s all. Now go shower or something. I’ll make breakfast.”

He followed you up the stairs, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, his grin never fading. “You speed-walkin’ away like that doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’ What were you really doing, huh? Secretly plotting my downfall? Finding new ways to make me eat actual vegetables?”

You whirled around at the top of the stairs, pointing a finger at him. “Ronin, I swear, if you don’t go take a shower right now, I’m not making you breakfast.”

He leaned against the wall, tilting his head as he looked at you with a mock pout. “A threat? Really? That’s what we’re doing now?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “Because you’re being insufferable, and I have important things to do.”

“Important things,” he echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like what? Let me guess, you’re planning to—”

“Go. Shower,” you interrupted, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You probably smell like… like murder or something.”

He laughed at that, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Murder smells better than you’d think, angel.”

“Ronin!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m going. But this breakfast better be worth it, or you’re never living this down.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he finally turned toward the bathroom. As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a sigh of relief. He was impossible, but… he was also Ronin. And that was enough to make you smile as you headed for the kitchen.

Ronin leaned back in his chair, his plate of food mostly untouched as he watched you. You were fidgeting with your phone, tapping your fingers against the floor, your knee bouncing with a restless energy he didn’t usually see in you. You were distracted, anxious—he could tell. The corner of his mouth twitched downward.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, like he was fishing for something.

You froze, your eyes snapping to his like you’d been caught red-handed. “Nothing,” you blurted, clutching your phone to your chest. “Just… nothing important.”

His brow arched. “Yeah? ‘Cause you look like you’re planning a jailbreak or something. Come on, show me.”

You shook your head so quickly it was almost comical. “No, please don’t ask,” you said softly, your voice almost pleading.

That stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure if it was the tone or the look in your eyes, but something about it made him back off. “Alright, fine. Keep your secrets,” he said, grabbing his fork and focusing on his plate instead.

The tension eased slightly as you took a breath, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there. But then, you stood abruptly, brushing your hands on your pants like you were gearing up for something.

“I’m going out,” you said, your voice a little too chipper.

Ronin’s fork clattered against his plate as he stared at you. “You’re what?”

“I’m going somewhere. It’s… important,” you said, heading toward the door before he could ask more questions.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “The hell do you mean ‘important’? Since when do you have places to be? All you know is this house. What’s so important you’re just up and leaving now?”

You hesitated, your hand on the doorframe, and then turned back to him with a nervous smile. “It’s something I saw online, and I’ve wanted to check it out in person for a while. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Ronin squinted at you, his confusion evident. You weren’t making any sense, and that only made him more suspicious. But the way you smiled at him—genuine, if not a little nervous—made him hold his tongue.

“Fine,” he said after a long pause. “Go do… whatever. Just don’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t!” you chirped, practically skipping toward your room to get dressed.

Ronin stayed at the table, staring at your empty seat with a frown. He’d told himself over and over that he wasn’t the clingy type, but your sudden departure left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn’t like you to leave like this, especially not after you’d been so jittery all morning. And after the fall? You barely left the house unless it was with him.

He drummed his fingers against the table, muttering under his breath. “The hell is this about?”

The thought of following you crossed his mind for a split second, but he dismissed it just as quickly. He wasn’t that petty. Besides, you weren’t the type to run off and… see someone else. No, this was something different.

Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. His birthday was tomorrow, and while he’d never been the kind of guy to care much about celebrating, he’d been looking forward to spending the day with you. It wasn’t about the gifts or the attention—it was about having someone who actually gave a damn.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe you really had found something online and decided to check it out. But that didn’t explain why you’d been acting so weird.

he sat there, his thoughts swirling, he couldn’t help but feel a little… disappointed. For someone who claimed they didn’t care about birthdays, he sure was hoping this one would be different.

Meanwhile, in your room, you were frantically changing into something casual but nice, your heart racing as you double-checked everything you needed. You weren’t great at lying to Ronin—he could read you like an open book—but you’d managed to keep your plan under wraps.

Tomorrow was his birthday, and you wanted to make it special. Not just for him, but for you, too. It was the first birthday you’d get to celebrate with him as his partner, and you were determined to make it memorable.

As you slipped out of the house, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for leaving without telling him the truth. But if you could pull this off, it would all be worth it.

Ronin, meanwhile, stayed seated at the table, his thoughts gnawing at him. What the hell is going on? he thought, rubbing at the back of his neck. You weren’t one to keep secrets, and the fact that you had one now was driving him insane.

He didn’t know where you were going, but he wasn’t about to follow. He wasn’t that guy. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to—and why it felt like it had something to do with him.

After you left, Ronin found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, staring at nothing in particular. He muttered to himself as he finally picked up his plate and tossed the leftovers into the trash.

“Off doing some secret mission,” he grumbled. “You’re getting soft, Ronin. Too soft.”

Shaking his head, he decided to push the thoughts aside. There was work to do, after all. His garage was already buzzing by the time he headed out, and he quickly threw himself into fixing up bikes and cars, his usual clientele trickling in.

For the first couple of hours, he let his mind go blank, focusing only on the familiar rhythm of the tools in his hands. But as time went on, a different kind of restlessness crept in. Every time a customer walked through the door, he’d scan them, sizing them up, seeing if there was something interesting about them. Someone who deserved to end up on the wrong end of his crowbar.

Unfortunately, the day was as dull as they came. No one stood out—not even the cocky guy with a busted muffler who tried to haggle the price down.

Ronin sighed as he wiped the grease from his hands, watching the man leave. “Boring,” he muttered under his breath. “Pathetic. You’re all safe today, losers.”

After a few moments of silence, Ronin’s phone buzzed. His face lit up with a smirk as he saw the notification—his server chat, where he and his lovely crew always kept things lively. He opened it, and the first thing he saw was Luca’s message.

Luca (username: Luca): "So, how's your dear Angel from the sky?

Ronin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped him. Luca never changed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Pathetic, Well, your opinion doesn’t matter, now does it?"

Feli (username: Felicite): "I hope they're fine? "

Ronin scrolled down, his phone lighting up with Angel's message right after.

Angel (username: Angelicc): "Hey, where’s Y/N? I thought you two were together today?"

Ronin paused for a moment, thinking about how to answer. He didn’t want to mention anything about you leaving; he didn’t want them to see that as a crack in the perfect image he liked to keep up. Not yet.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "They left. Said something about seeing something online. You know how they get."

Misaki responded almost immediately, and Ronin’s lips curled up into a smirk as he read her message.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Better not be some man/woman thing. You know Y/N’s too innocent for that, right? Can barely handle an app without getting confused."

Ronin snorted in amusement, knowing it was true. You were still getting the hang of apps, and there were so many times he’d had to explain things to you in the past. But he loved that about you, how... innocent you still were in that regard. He felt protective, even though he didn’t always show it.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "You’re giving them too much credit. They’re too dumb to even deal with that. They’re clueless about half the apps on their phone. But sure, let’s pretend it’s some big mystery."

Misaki shot back quickly.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Not really dumb. Pretty cute, actually. Wouldn’t you agree, Ronin?"

Ronin rolled his eyes. Misaki never could resist teasing him.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, they’re cute. That’s about it, though."

The messages from the server continued to pour in as he scrolled, his attention flicking between his phone and the work he had to finish. That’s when V’s message appeared in his inbox.

V (username: K9): Why do you sound so gloomy? Everything alright, Ronin?

Ronin’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he stared at the message, unsure if he should respond. V had always been quiet, and his sudden concern felt out of place. Why would V care?

He typed back quickly, trying to brush it off.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, I’m fine. Just dealing with some shit, nothing new. No need to worry about it."

But V didn’t let it go. Instead, he sent a follow-up message that immediately caught Ronin off guard.

V (username: K9): Seriously, though. You ever thought about what Misaki said? About Y/N?

Ronin stopped in his tracks, staring at the screen. What the hell did Misaki say? He hadn’t even processed it fully. Was V really pulling this line of questioning?

He smirked, typing his reply with his usual post-ironic attitude.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Since when did my angel start caring about Y/N?"

V (username: K9): It’s not about that. Just wondering if you’ve really thought about it. You’re kind of in deep with them, huh?

Ronin couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. He quickly typed out his response, brushing it off as he always did.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "No, I haven’t thought about it. Even if it’s true, I don’t care. Doesn��t change anything. Just a person, right?"

There was a brief silence on V’s end, but before Ronin could move on, Misaki’s message came flooding in.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Even if you think so, Ronin, you’re way too defensive. And don’t get me started on how cute Y/N is. No one else would look at them like you do, and you know it!"

Ronin’s smirk twisted into something more genuine. He didn’t mind their teasing—it was part of the game. But Misaki was right about one thing: you were special. He just didn’t have the words to explain it. Hell, even he didn’t fully get it.

He paused for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard again. Then, with a shrug, he typed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Alright, alright, sure. But you all know what I’m about. Y/N can be anyone. They’re not the only one in my world."

There was a brief pause before Luca decided to chime in.

Luca (username: Luca): "Is that the case? Because I’m not so sure, man. I think you’re just mad because they left to go check something out. Don’t tell me it’s all part of some big plan to be ‘post-ironic’ again."

Misaki, though, immediately defended you, even if they hadn’t met you in person.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Don’t be an asshole, Luca. You know nothing about Y/N. You don’t get to say shit. Even if I haven’t met them, I can tell that Ronin wouldn’t be the way he is if they weren’t worth it."

The chat immediately went quiet after that, all eyes seemingly on Ronin to respond.

Ronin just sat there, his phone in his hand, considering his words carefully. Did they really think he didn’t know? But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t just a game like the others. You were his own twisted, confusing connection—and that was something no one in this chat could ever truly understand. He finally typed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, maybe you’re right. Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it. We’re good."

And with that, he leaned back, the phone buzzing with more messages from the others, but his mind was elsewhere. Even if he acted like he didn’t care—hell, even if he convinced himself he didn’t—there was something different about you, something that made him want to keep this mess going. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing… or the worst thing to ever happen to him.

The air in the mall buzzed with a mix of soft music and distant chatter. You hadn’t expected to spend the day shopping, but something inside you knew you needed to find the perfect gift for Ronin. The kind of gift that wasn’t just about the usual routine, but something that spoke of your own emotions—something personal. It felt strange, this need to get him something that would signify the bond between you two, but you couldn’t shake the thought. After all, he was unpredictable, dark, and elusive in a way that made you want to prove your place in his chaotic world.

You walked into the store, the doors chiming softly as you entered. It was a gothic-themed boutique, filled with black velvet, chains, silver jewelry, and intricate designs that seemed to speak to a part of you that mirrored Ronin's own twisted love for all things dark and bizarre. A shopkeeper, a young woman in her mid-20s with sharp eyeliner and a soft, almost mischievous smile, greeted you immediately.

"Hello there! You’ve come to the right place," she said brightly, clasping her hands together. "We’ve got all sorts of goth accessories. Are you looking for something special today?" She leaned in closer, her excitement almost contagious.

You hesitated, but her enthusiasm made you smile. "I’m looking for something for someone," you replied, trying not to give away too much. "Maybe something… meaningful?"

"Oh, I love that," she gushed, nodding enthusiastically. "We have so many things that could symbolize, like, special connections!" She started leading you to the display, her eyes practically gleaming with the knowledge of all the dark, romantic pieces the store had.

The first thing she showed you was a set of chokers, each one adorned with gothic symbols and sharp, silver spikes. There was a particularly striking one that had Devil May God Forgive You engraved on it in intricate cursive. The leather strap seemed almost too harsh, too forward. You almost smiled, wondering if Ronin would appreciate it—or if he’d mock you for it.

"That one’s a classic," the girl said, catching your eye. "But maybe you want something a bit more, uh, subtle? We’ve got the sorry Christ one, if you’re feeling more... repentant." She winked at you as she pulled a smooth, black velvet choker from the shelf, adorned with a small silver cross, almost like a twisted apology.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. "Maybe not that one." The thought of Ronin wearing something like that made you feel both embarrassed and amused.

She didn’t seem deterred and moved on to the next set, showing you a row of necklaces with heavy silver chains, pendants shaped like daggers, skulls, and moons, each one glinting under the soft lighting of the shop. But nothing seemed right.

You continued browsing, feeling the weight of several bags already hanging from your arms. You had picked up a few things along the way—nothing for Ronin, but a few trinkets that spoke to your own taste, like a black mesh top that would look stunning on you and some more accessories for yourself. As you walked past rows of velvet jackets, platform boots, and studded gloves, your eyes landed on a small glass case in the back.

Inside, nestled on a bed of black satin, was a set of earrings—one pair stood out above the rest. They were elegant, simple, but undeniably gothic. Two ruby stones set in dark silver, their deep red hues striking against the cool tones of the metal. The moment your eyes fell on them, you felt a tug in your chest. That’s it.

The shopkeeper, noticing your gaze, practically floated over to you. "Ah, I see you’ve found them! Those are our best sellers." She gave you a knowing look. "Ruby stones symbolize pure love and passion, you know. I think that’s exactly what you’re looking for, right? Something that shows just how deep that connection is." She smiled sweetly, her voice softer now, almost as if she were reading you.

You blinked, a little startled by her insight. "Yeah, I think so," you replied, reaching for the case. The cool metal of the earrings felt smooth between your fingers, and you could almost feel them calling to you.

"Those are beautiful," the girl said, eyes sparkling with excitement. "And trust me, the stones are very meaningful. It’s like a declaration of something deep, something eternal. I think your person will absolutely love them." She grinned at you, her smile wide and warm, but her eyes seemed to be probing a little more than necessary, reading the situation in a way you couldn’t fully place.

"I’ll take them," you said quickly, not wanting to waste another second.

"Perfect choice!" she replied, practically bouncing as she wrapped the earrings carefully in black tissue paper, placing them into a sleek, black gift bag with a silver ribbon.

You grinned at her, almost feeling the weight of the gift in your hand before it was even given. There was something about the way she treated you like a kindred spirit that made the whole experience feel oddly... intimate.

After she handed you the bag, you spent the next few moments gathering the other bags you had collected during your impromptu shopping spree. But your attention kept flickering back to the earrings, the symbolism of the ruby stones, and how Ronin would react. It felt almost like you were giving him a piece of your own heart, a little piece of something that, no matter how dark, still burned with passion and meaning.

Once you had everything packed, you gave the shopkeeper a smile, and she waved goodbye with a kindhearted "Good luck!"

You wandered deeper into the mall, the weight of your shopping bags growing heavier with each store you visited. The bags clinked softly with various treasures you’d collected—everything from clothes with edgy prints to accessories that screamed emo-geek chic. Mesh tops, studded belts, and fingerless gloves found their way into your collection, along with some black denim and a hoodie that looked like it belonged in a gothic fairytale.

Every piece you picked out reminded you of Ronin in some way, as though each item was a part of a puzzle that would make him smirk or—if you were lucky—maybe even smile.

Then, you stumbled upon a quaint, old-fashioned sewing-on-the-spot shop tucked away in a quiet corner of the mall. The sign was hand-painted, the letters slightly faded, and the interior smelled faintly of lavender and aged thread. Curious, you stepped inside, the bell above the door jingling softly.

Behind the counter, an older woman with sharp eyes and nimble fingers sat, stitching something intricate onto a fabric square. Her gaze flickered up at you, assessing, before she offered a small nod of approval.

"Well, well," she said, her voice raspy but kind. "Haven’t seen one of your kind here in a while. What can I do for you, youngster?"

You hesitated, looking around the shop. "I was wondering... could you help me make something? A, um, beanie?" Your voice wavered slightly, but the old woman raised an eyebrow and set down her needle.

"Beanie, eh? What kind of beanie are we talking about? Don’t tell me it’s one of those devilish ones," she said, half-joking, though her tone carried a touch of judgment.

You blushed, feeling heat creep up your neck. "Actually, yes," you admitted sheepishly, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of one of your bags. "With little horns, maybe?"

The woman let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Kids these days," she muttered, but there was no malice in her voice. She motioned for you to come closer. "All right, let’s see what we can do. Pick a fabric."

You chose a soft, black material, perfect for a cozy yet rebellious look. As the woman worked, she couldn’t resist making little comments.

"Back in my day, we didn’t need to wear things with horns to stand out," she said, her hands moving expertly as she sewed. "Just a good attitude and a strong heart. Not like these flimsy trends now."

You couldn’t help but smile nervously, nodding along. "Yeah, I guess things are different now." You hesitated before adding, "It’s actually for my... boyfriend." The word felt strange on your tongue, almost foreign, but at the same time, it warmed your chest. Boyfriend. Was that what Ronin was?

The old woman paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Boyfriend, huh?" she echoed, her voice teasing. "Well, aren’t you the sweetest? Making something by hand, no less. That’s rare these days. He better appreciate it."

You blushed harder, feeling the weight of her words. The thought of giving Ronin the beanie, seeing him wear it, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I hope he likes it," you said softly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the counter.

As the woman finished sewing, your ring finger caught on a stray needle, and you winced as a sharp sting jolted through your hand. A single drop of blood welled up on the tip of your finger. The pain was fleeting, but the odd thing was the spot it hit—right where a ring might go.

"Careful," the woman scolded gently, handing you a tissue. "Don’t want to ruin that pretty finger of yours."

You nodded, murmuring a quiet thanks as you dabbed at the small wound. For a moment, you stared at your finger, an odd ache blooming in your chest. It was as if the sting wasn’t just physical. Maybe it was the weight of all these emotions, or the fact that you were human now, no longer the celestial being you once were. It felt heavy, strange, but also... right.

"All done," the woman said, holding up the finished beanie. It was perfect—soft, black, with two small devil horns stitched on top. You smiled, your heart swelling with pride and gratitude.

"Thank you," you said, taking the beanie and carefully placing it in one of your bags.

Your next stop was the hardware store. The clean, metallic smell of tools and equipment greeted you as you stepped inside. You immediately made a beeline for the mechanics section, knowing exactly what you were looking for.

You grabbed a brand-new set of tools—everything from wrenches to screwdrivers—then spotted something that made you pause: a crowbar. It was sleek, black, and looked like it was practically made for Ronin.

He’d love this, you thought, picking it up. As you turned it over in your hands, you couldn’t help but imagine him holding it, smirking that cocky grin of his as he teased you about your thoughtfulness.

By the time you left the store, your arms were weighed down with even more bags, but your heart felt light. Between the beanie, the earrings, and now the tools and crowbar, you felt like you were putting together pieces of a puzzle that only Ronin would fully understand.

You entered the cake shop, the sweet, sugary scent of fresh-baked goods wafting through the air and immediately making your stomach growl. The shop was warm and inviting, with a cozy little kitchen at the back where customers could make cakes from scratch on the spot. It had a rustic charm, with wooden counters and old-fashioned decorations that made it feel like a place where magic could happen—where you could create something special with your own hands.

As you approached the counter, one of the ladies behind it looked up and smiled warmly at you. "Oh, how cute! You're going to make a cake? And for your boyfriend, you say?" Her voice was sweet and almost teasing, but there was genuine warmth in her eyes as she looked at you.

"Yeah... it's his birthday tomorrow," you replied softly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. It felt a little strange saying it out loud, but the words "my boyfriend" felt more real every time you said them. You smiled at the thought of Ronin, his dark eyes, his sarcastic smirk... and that weird, almost tender side of him that you knew was there.

"Well, aren't you sweet? A special cake for a special guy. What are you making?" she asked, clearly eager to see your creation.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. "I think... an apple crumble cake. I found a recipe from someone... she’s really good at baking. It’s a surprise."

The lady's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Apple crumble cake, huh? That sounds delicious! Well, we'll make sure you do a fantastic job. Just follow the steps and take your time."

You nodded, feeling reassured. This was your chance to make something perfect for Ronin. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him enjoying something you made just for him.

With a deep breath, you rolled up your sleeves and began.

Apple Crumble Cake Recipe Steps:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). You carefully adjusted the oven, feeling a slight excitement building in your chest. It was the first step to making the cake come to life.

2. Prepare the crumble topping. You took a bowl and combined the dry ingredients for the crumble. You mixed together 1 cup of flour, 1/2 cup of sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon. Then you added 1/2 cup of cold butter, cutting it into chunks before using your fingers to rub the butter into the dry ingredients until it formed a crumbly texture. The buttery scent filled the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

"Looking good!" the lady behind the counter said, noticing your progress. "You're doing great!"

You smiled shyly and continued, feeling a little more confident. You set the crumble aside, ready for the next step.

3. Prepare the apple filling. Next, you peeled and sliced 3 medium apples, cutting them into thin pieces. You sprinkled 1 tablespoon of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon over them, tossing them together in a bowl to coat the apples evenly. The sweet aroma of the apples mixed with the cinnamon made you feel cozy, almost nostalgic.

4. Mix the cake batter. In another bowl, you combined 1 1/2 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, and a pinch of salt. In a separate bowl, you whisked 1/2 cup of sugar and 1/4 cup of softened butter until creamy. You added in 2 eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Then, you alternated adding the dry ingredients and 1/2 cup of milk, mixing until the batter was smooth and thick.

5. Assemble the cake. You greased the cake pan and poured the batter into the bottom, smoothing it out evenly. Then, you carefully arranged the apple slices on top, creating a beautiful layer of apples. Finally, you sprinkled the crumble mixture over the apples, making sure every bit of the cake had a sweet, crunchy topping.

"You've got this!" the lady cheered as you placed the pan in the oven. "Just bake it for about 45 minutes, or until the top is golden and the cake is cooked through."

You set the timer, your excitement building as you imagined Ronin's reaction. The cake was still baking, but you could already picture him, leaning against the counter, that smirk tugging at his lips as he took the first bite.

As the cake baked, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon filled the shop, making your stomach rumble again. The lady at the counter was busy helping other customers, but she occasionally glanced over at you, giving you encouraging smiles.

When the timer finally went off, you carefully pulled the apple crumble cake from the oven. The golden topping and the caramelized apples glistened in the soft light of the bakery, and you couldn't help but feel proud. It looked perfect—just like the surprise you wanted to give Ronin.

"Wow, that looks amazing!" one of the other ladies exclaimed as she came over to inspect. "You're a natural!"

You blushed, feeling shy again. "I hope he likes it."

They all gathered around, admiring the cake with smiles, their eyes twinkling with warmth. "He’s going to love it," the first lady said, "and it’s so sweet of you to make it for him yourself."

You grinned, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. Despite all the nerves and the uncertainty about Ronin's feelings, you knew one thing for sure: this cake, this surprise, was your way of showing him just how much you cared.

"Thank you so much for your help," you said, handing over the empty bowls and utensils. "This really means a lot to me."

"No problem at all, sweetie!" the lady said, her voice full of affection. "You come back anytime if you need any more help."

With a cake box in hand, filled with your creation, you left the shop, feeling more confident than ever. You had the perfect gift for Ronin, and you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see his reaction.

It was going to be a birthday he would never forget.

You were struggling to carry all the bags, your hands full of everything from gothic jewelry to new mechanics equipment and the ingredients for the cake you’d just made. The weight of it all made your arms ache, and you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as you tried to juggle everything. You were so focused on keeping everything from falling that you didn’t hear your phone ring at first.

When you finally glanced at the screen, you saw Angel’s name flashing in bold letters.

"Hey," you answered, trying to sound casual as you shifted the bags in your arms, feeling your fingers beginning to cramp. "What's up?"

"How are you?" Angel’s voice came through, light and cheerful, but there was a slight teasing undertone. "Seems like you left Ronin’s early this morning, huh?"

You bit your lip, trying to focus on walking straight without tripping over your own feet. "Yeah, just bought stuff... a lot of stuff," you said, a sigh slipping from your lips. "I don’t even know how I’m gonna carry all this back."

Angel laughed lightly. "Sounds like you’ve been busy," she teased. "You know, if you want, I can get a taxi for you. Just send me your address, and I’ll make sure you’re all set."

You glanced around, the thought of navigating the rest of the trip home with all this in hand was making you more exhausted by the second. "It’s fine, really. I can manage," you said, though your voice had a slight tinge of defeat. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate her offer, but you didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle it.

"Okay, but seriously, let me know if you change your mind. Don’t be stubborn," she replied with a chuckle, then her tone shifted slightly. "So, um… do you think it’s okay if the server keeps Ronin tomorrow for a while? I mean, just to give you some space, you know? It’s his birthday, and… well, I was thinking it might be nice if he gets a little time with the others."

You paused for a moment, contemplating her question. It was a small thing, but it was also a little strange to think about. "Yeah, that’s fine," you replied, your voice a little softer now. "Ronin’s not the type to care about stuff like that. He probably won’t even notice."

Angel’s voice was warm, a little teasing but understanding. "Well, I’m sure you’ll make up for it later," she said with a wink in her tone. "You’ve got all that cool stuff, right? And that cake—he’s gonna love it."

You smiled at the thought, the cake was a simple thing, but you were so proud of it. "I hope so," you replied. "I just... wanted to do something nice for him."

Angel's voice softened. "I know you do. And I think he’ll really appreciate it. But hey, if you’re ever overwhelmed, you know you can always reach out, okay? I’ve got your back."

"Thanks, Angel," you said quietly, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I appreciate it."

you were walking, your thoughts still scattered between the bags, the cake, and tomorrow’s plans, you suddenly felt a jolt—someone bumped into you, knocking into your arms. The bags in your hands swayed dangerously, and for a second, you thought everything was going to fall, the cake included. You gasped, eyes wide as you fumbled, barely managing to catch everything in time.

“Woah, sorry,” a deep voice rumbled from behind you. You froze. That voice. You knew it all too well.

You slowly turned, looking up to find a man standing before you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat in confusion and wariness. V.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, before speaking in that familiar gravelly tone that always sent shivers down your spine, “I’ve seen you before, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

Your mind raced. V? The same V who hated Ronin? The one who had crossed paths with him multiple times, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface, full of unspoken tension? Your instinct told you to be cautious, to step back, but you tried to keep your composure.

“It must be a coincidence,” you muttered quickly, trying to brush past him. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. Ronin’s strange behavior, the looming sense of tension you’d been feeling—it was all enough without running into V at this exact moment.

But V’s next words stopped you in your tracks. “Stop,” he said, his voice low, almost commanding, like Batman on a bad day. There was a certain weight to it, something that made you freeze even though you didn’t want to.

His intense gaze stayed locked on you as he stepped forward, taking some of the bags from your hands. You hesitated, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—it was just… unsettling. The tension between him and Ronin was something you could never ignore. You didn’t want to get caught in the middle of whatever that was.

“You’re carrying a lot,” he said, his tone still dark, but strangely softer now. “Let me help you.”

For a moment, you considered refusing, but there was something about the way he said it, his presence overwhelming in that strange way, that made it difficult to refuse. Reluctantly, you handed over a few more bags. As he adjusted the weight, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried them, his strength almost unnerving. The silence between you both felt thick, oppressive.

You looked away, trying to dismiss the unsettling feeling growing inside you. "Thanks... I guess," you muttered, trying to move on. “I’ve got it from here.”

V didn’t say anything for a moment, but then his eyes flickered toward you, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Something about the way he observed you made your skin crawl a little. It wasn’t malicious, exactly, but it felt like he was studying you—like there was something about you he was trying to figure out.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his voice softening just a little. “You look... a little off. I’ve seen that look before. You don’t have to hide it.”

You blinked, startled. “What look?” You hadn’t realized you’d been so transparent, but there was something about his presence, something in the air, that made you uneasy.

He seemed to smile, though it wasn’t one you could read. “It’s nothing.” He stepped back, giving you space as you adjusted the bags, your heart racing slightly. “But be careful. Not everyone is who they seem to be.” His voice had taken on a warning tone now.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you nodded, unsure of what to say. Was he warning you about Ronin? Was he talking about the things that had been on your mind all day?

“Thanks for helping,” you said, your voice uncertain but polite as you tried to turn away, ready to get back to your task and leave this strange encounter behind you.

V didn’t follow you, but his eyes stayed on you for a beat longer than you’d expected. You walked away quickly, feeling that unsettling gaze on your back, and for a moment, you thought you could still feel it—the weight of someone’s eyes, watching, tracking you.

It was almost as if it reminded you of Ronin, of how he would sometimes seem to observe you while you slept, even though you knew he was just close, close enough to keep you safe in his twisted way.

But you shook that thought away. That was probably just your mind playing tricks on you, wasn’t it? Ronin wouldn’t do anything weird. Right?

You fumbled with the bags, feeling the weight of them pulling on your arms as you approached the house. The familiar sight of Ronin's garage was there, quiet and dim. But as you approached the front door, something caught your attention—there was an unusual silence. The door was locked. You frowned, pulling out your keys, only to realize you had forgotten them inside.

A brief pang of frustration hit, but you dismissed it quickly. No big deal, you could sneak in through the basement. The back door wasn’t locked, after all.

You shuffled toward the side, carefully placing the bags down so they wouldn’t spill open, the cake still nestled in its box, precariously balanced between them. It wasn’t easy carrying all this, but the thought of making Ronin happy, especially with his birthday right around the corner, kept you motivated.

You crouched and entered through the basement door, the cool air immediately wrapping around you like a cloak. It was a little darker down here than you expected, but you didn’t mind; you were used to the shadows. The basement felt like a safe haven to you, hidden from the rest of the world.

But as you moved deeper into the cluttered space, your foot caught on something. Tires. They were placed in a rough pattern, almost like they were meant to trip someone up. Before you could stop yourself, your foot slipped, and you stumbled forward, bags flying out of your grip.

The cake box hit the ground with a dull thud. You gasped, feeling the tears rise at the thought of the cake being ruined, all your hard work for nothing. You quickly knelt, fumbling to check on the condition of the cake. You hadn't realized the position it had fallen into yet, but you couldn't think about that too much. You needed to make sure it was still in one piece.

"Dear Maria!" you muttered under your breath, but before you could stand up, a pair of hands wrapped around your neck from behind, fingers tightening in an almost suffocating grip. Your breath hitched, panic flooding you instantly. You didn’t have to see who it was to know. You’d felt his presence before.

Ronin Beaufort.

“Where the hell were you?” His voice was low, demanding, the usual mix of frustration and something darker. “What were you doing with V?”

You froze, the air squeezing from your lungs. You hadn’t expected him to catch you here, not like this. You felt your heart race, and your thoughts scrambled, trying to find the right words. You hadn’t even known V was following you, or why he was even there. “I—I don’t know,” you stammered, the words tumbling out. “It’s nothing. I didn’t even know it was V until I saw him in person. He just bumped into me. I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

Ronin’s grip tightened for a second, as if to gauge the sincerity of your words. The tension in the air between you both was suffocating, his presence so overpowering it was almost like he could feel every little movement you made.

But then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed you, his fingers loosened, and he pulled away. You gasped for air, blinking rapidly, the relief short-lived as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

Ronin stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes unreadable, before he spoke again. “Sit.” His voice was flat, but the command still rang in your ears. “Sit in the chair.”

You glanced up, your eyes still a little wide from the shock. The chair in the corner was always a spot he used for moments like this, though you didn’t exactly know what to expect. You hesitated for a second, then slowly shuffled toward it, feeling like a puppet on strings, your body moving of its own accord.

You lowered yourself onto the chair, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. The bags were scattered, and the cake—it had fallen. You didn’t dare to look at it fully yet, too scared of what you might find.

Ronin didn’t sit; instead, he remained standing, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes flickered toward the box that had once held the cake. “What the hell is going on with you?” he asked again, his voice softer, but no less piercing. "You’ve been acting weird."

You felt your stomach twist at his question, not sure how to answer. You wanted to explain that it was just a moment of panic, a slip of the mind, but the truth was, the feeling had been building for a while now—this strange tension, this overwhelming sense that you weren’t sure of anything anymore. You didn’t know how to explain that to him, or if he would even understand.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. But deep down, you weren’t sure if you were lying to him or to yourself.

Ronin stood there, arms crossed, his usual detached expression masking whatever turmoil was swirling beneath the surface. The basement was dim, and the faint light from the overhead bulb cast harsh shadows across his features. His posture was slack, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp, always watching, always searching for the tiniest crack to slip his hand into.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of your apology settle in your chest. The tension between you both felt like a thick fog, pressing down on everything you wanted to say, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

"Ronin… I’m sorry for what happened the other day. Brushing you off like that… I know it was wrong. But there was a reason behind everything. It might sound like an excuse, but… will you listen?"

He raised an eyebrow, the typical edge in his voice softening, if only slightly. His usual demeanor was more guarded, but you saw a flicker of curiosity beneath the hardness. Still, his reply came with a bite.

"What is it, darlin’? Better not be some bullshit reason. I won’t forgive you if it’s bullshit."

Your heart pounded. You could almost feel the weight of his eyes, scrutinizing you, as if he could see through every single hesitation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Tomorrow’s your birthday, right?"

His gaze hardened instantly, but the surprise in his eyes was unmistakable. You could feel the weight of his surprise hanging in the air. It was the first time in a while you had seen him at a loss for words, and for a moment, you thought he might break that post-ironic façade of his.

You continued, not letting the sudden shift in his expression distract you. "That’s why I wanted to celebrate. So I’ve been preparing this whole time. I was talking to Angel, looking through shops that could maybe help with the cake… I was debating what would make for a good present. I… I really wanted it to be a surprise."

He was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, as though he was running over your words, trying to understand the meaning behind them. His eyes softened just a fraction, and for a moment, you thought maybe you were getting through to him. But then, his voice cut through the silence—laced with confusion and that familiar edge of sarcasm.

"Then why didn’t you tell me?" His tone held an odd mix of frustration and disbelief, as though the concept of you keeping something from him didn’t quite sit right. "What the hell do you mean 'you wanted to surprise me'? You didn’t think I’d want to know?"

You bit your lip, guilt gnawing at you. "Because I wanted it to be a surprise, so I figured it would be better if you didn’t know," you admitted quietly. "I’m sorry."

He let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. "God," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face with his hand. "So you’re saying because of that, I got the wrong idea and got mad without a reason? Shit… I was completely thrown by Misaki's stupidity." The confession seemed to deflate him a little. His usual bitterness faded as he took a step back, arms uncrossing as if some of the tension in his body was finally being released. You didn’t know what to say at first, but you knew you had to push through it.

"I truly am sorry," you murmured, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Ronin smirked, though it wasn’t one of his usual mocking grins. "By the way, don’t you see? I’m your average pretty anti-Christ devil Family friendly serial killer, you know?" He said it with the same post-ironic tone he always used, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounded, but that was exactly why he said it. For the rise it would get from you. "Did you really think I’d celebrate every single birthday still?" You blinked, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sharpness of his words. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the underlying vulnerability in the way he said it, like he was testing you, poking at the idea to see how you'd react.

"No," you replied softly, your voice just above a whisper. "Even if you are one… even if you are someone else, it’s still your birthday. And I… I think it’s important." You hesitated for a moment, your fingers twitching slightly. "It’s the day you were born into this world, after all. I’m happy to be with you. That’s what matters to me."

His eyes flicked to you, their depth now unreadable. The room was silent for a few moments, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge in the corner. For a split second, you thought maybe he would brush it all off, that usual detachment settling back in.

But then, a small, almost imperceptible shift happened. Ronin’s eyes softened, the sarcastic edge fading. "Don’t go acting all sweet on me, alright?" he muttered, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if it was admiration or something darker, but you saw a trace of something real in his words. His expression didn’t soften entirely, but you could feel the walls he’d put up around himself, crumbling just a little.

Ronin’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. The tension in the air shifted, becoming thick with something unspoken as his eyes drifted down to your hand, where your ring finger had a faint bruise from earlier.

Without saying a word, Ronin reached out, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently held your hand. You blinked in surprise, not expecting him to do anything about the injury, but when he leaned down and pressed a soft, almost hesitant kiss to the spot where you’d hurt yourself, a shiver ran up your spine.

“What…?” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, heart fluttering at his sudden gentleness.

He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he gently licked the spot where the wound had been, as if trying to soothe it, his eyes never leaving yours. The act was unexpected, but his usual edge of sarcasm was replaced by something almost tender.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Put a small bandage on it. You don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "It’s a small wound," you said, trying to downplay it, but his gaze hardened slightly as he pulled back.

“Shut up,” Ronin snapped, though his words were softer than usual. There was no malice in them, just a kind of raw affection that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. He then let out a small sigh, his lips curving into a smile that was rare but real. “You’re lucky I’m even treating you like this, darling.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his gruffness, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Okay…” you replied innocently, your voice almost teasing despite the situation.

Just as you were about to say something else, a loud alarm suddenly blared from your phone. The sound sliced through the moment, making you jump in surprise. You glanced at the screen, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the notification.

Midnight Bell. It’s his birthday.

You froze for a moment, eyes wide in realization. Your breath caught in your throat, and a burst of excitement rushed through you. It was finally his birthday. The moment you had been preparing for had arrived.

Ronin, for once, didn’t seem irritated by the sound. Instead, his eyes darkened slightly, as if he had been expecting this moment too. “Well, well,” he said, his voice low, a dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “It’s about time, huh?”

"Ah… the midnight bell…" you muttered, your hands trembling slightly as you glanced at the time.

Ronin's voice was a drawl, almost bored as he stared at you, but you could hear the subtle amusement beneath it. “...The date changed.”

You laughed nervously, fumbling for words. “It’s your birthday! Congratulations, Ronin!"

"Yeah..." he replied, voice quiet, almost indifferent, but you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips. The sort of smile that made your heart skip a beat, despite yourself.

Your thoughts quickly turned to the cake. Present? You thought. Oh no... I forgot the cake... The panic surged within you as you realized what you’d done. “Aahーー!!”

Ronin’s eyebrows raised slightly at your sudden outburst. " What’s your problem!? Suddenly shouting like that..."

You tried to steady your breath. "The cake... I forgot I dropped it..."

Ronin's gaze shifted to the side where the box lay carelessly on the counter. "Cake? ... could it be that box laying over there...?"

You winced. "Y-Yeah... When I tried to come sneakily but you.. I accidentally..."

"God..." he muttered, shaking his head but not with anger, more like exasperation. It was almost endearing in a twisted way.

You lowered your head, feeling embarrassed. "S-Sorry!!"

Ronin gave you a look that could’ve been a warning, but then his lips curled into a smirk. "Pfft! You're making a funny face. ...There we go."

He effortlessly walked over to the box, picking it up with a casual motion. You couldn’t help but watch him. The cake had obviously been ruined by the fall—cream spilling out from the sides, a far cry from the masterpiece you’d envisioned—but Ronin seemed unfazed.

He tilted the box toward his face, his gaze flicking between you and the cake. The squirt of cream against his finger was almost… intimate. He tasted it with a smirk, licking the finger clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Well... it’s a little ruined, but it’s not bad, you know?" Ronin said, his voice dark and laced with amusement.

You stood there, unsure how to respond, staring at the disaster of a cake. "I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to..."

He leaned in, his expression sharpening into something more dangerous, more teasing. "Tch. Don’t apologize so much. It’s not the end of the world, darling. But now..."

The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional chuckle that escaped Ronin’s lips as he leaned back against the headboard. The cake—though squashed and imperfect—lay between you both, a symbol of the night’s chaotic charm. You’d tried to make everything perfect, but it seemed you were always a step behind with Ronin, always stumbling, always flustered.

It was his birthday now, and you still couldn’t shake off the worry that you hadn’t quite done enough.

You sat across from him, hands shaking slightly as you tried to prepare the cake. "Ah... Well, here it is," you said, the corners of your mouth curling up nervously as you presented the nearly ruined cake. "I—I’m sorry it’s not perfect..."

Ronin, with that same signature smirk of his, peered at the cake before his eyes flicked to you. "Tch, you’re making that face again. No need to apologize." He let out a chuckle, leaning over and inspecting the cake as if it were something strange he’d never encountered before. "It’s fine. I’m gonna eat this one."

You blinked, taken aback. "You will?"

"Why not? It’s your hard work, right?" Ronin teased, then grabbed the box from the table. "Let’s see what you made for me."

You tried to suppress your smile as he leaned back on the bed, unceremoniously digging into the cake, licking the spilled cream from his fingers with a casualness that both startled and excited you.

"See? Not so bad after all," he muttered, flicking his eyes toward you. His eyes softened a bit—just a bit. "Don’t sweat it."

You nodded, relieved, though there was still a sense of nervousness running through your veins. "Actually... I have a present for you, too," you murmured, feeling the rush of embarrassment flush your face. You hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable tonight, but Ronin had a way of making everything feel... amplified.

"A present?" Ronin arched a brow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I’m listening."

You took a deep breath before reaching over and pulling out a small, carefully wrapped box. The ruby earrings inside glimmered softly under the dim light. "I... I noticed you always wear one in your right ear, so I thought this color would suit you."

Ronin’s gaze flicked over the gift, his expression unreadable at first. Then, with a brief chuckle, he responded, "Fitting for me... Hah. This gemstone’s bright red, just like your blood, after all."

You paused, stunned for a second. "W-What?"

He waved it off, his smirk never fading. "Kidding. It’s fine. The color... it’s fitting."

The words hit harder than you expected. "It’s passion," you added softly, your fingers brushing against the delicate box. "And pure love... something like that."

Ronin’s eyes softened, just a fraction, as he looked down at the earrings. "Passion, huh... Pure love..." He chuckled lightly, the sound soft but carrying that familiar edge. "Thanks."

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest as the conversation shifted.

"Let’s just eat the cake already," Ronin muttered, clearly not in the mood for any more speeches. "I’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but tonight’s special."

You smiled as you picked up a fork, cutting a piece of the cake. "Alright, alright, let me just get you a piece."

As you handed him the piece of cake, Ronin leaned back and gave you an almost bored look, his eyes half-lidded. "Hmph. No offense, but eating it like this would be boring."

Your brow furrowed, confused for a second. "What do you mean?"

"Feed me," Ronin said, his voice almost mocking, though there was an unmistakable demand to it.

You blinked, your stomach flipping. "Eh!? No way!"

"Why not?" he said with a raised eyebrow, not even bothering to look at you directly. "You’ve been going on about listening to me, right? Well, now it’s time to put that into action. Don’t make me repeat myself."

You felt heat flood your cheeks, but before you could protest further, Ronin was already leaning forward, cutting a fresh piece of the cake for you.

"Here," he said, holding the cake up to your lips. "Open up."

You blinked, feeling your heart race as you stared at the piece of cake hovering just in front of your mouth. It was absurdly intimate, and yet, in some twisted way, it felt... natural. You could already feel the edge of Ronin's gaze on you, and there was no escaping that look.

You sighed, giving in. "Fine," you murmured, opening your mouth just enough for him to feed you.

As you took the bite, your heart pounded even faster. Ronin’s eyes never left you, his smirk returning in full force as you chewed the cake slowly.

"Good, huh?" he teased, his voice low and almost dangerous.

You nodded quickly, trying to suppress the nerves threatening to spill over. "Y-Yeah. It’s good."

Ronin watched you for a moment, amused by your flustered state. "Now it’s your turn," he said, his eyes glinting. "Feed me."

Your eyes widened. "No way! That’s—"

"Do it," he growled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. "You said you’d listen, didn’t you?"

The command in his voice was unshakable, and despite your reluctance, you found yourself leaning forward, holding the cake between your fingers and lifting it to his lips.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, your face flushed with heat. "Ahn."

Ronin’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in, accepting the cake, his gaze sharp and possessive as he chewed slowly, savoring the moment. "There we go," he murmured. "Now we’re even."

You swallowed, trying to control your racing heart. It wasn’t the cake or even the birthday celebration anymore—it was something else entirely.

Ronin leaned back on the bed, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand after finishing the last bite of the cake. A grin stretched across his face, almost too smug. "Heh. Is that all?" he teased, the tone in his voice making it clear he was enjoying every second of your flustered state.

You, however, had a different idea. Your smile widened with something darker, more playful. "Not quite," you said, standing up and brushing crumbs off your lap as you moved toward the door. "You see, I may have something else for you... something more... interesting."

Ronin’s eyebrows arched, clearly intrigued, though he didn’t rise from the bed just yet. "More?" he asked with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

You only gave him a sly grin before disappearing out the door, reappearing moments later with bags—bags upon bags, the weight of them evident as you dragged them behind you.

Ronin’s expression shifted. "What the hell is all this?" His voice held a note of both amusement and disbelief as you began pulling the bags one by one into the room. "You’ve got more of this stuff hidden in your basement?"

You nodded, smiling sweetly as you placed the first bag next to him. "Oh, there’s a lot more downstairs," you said casually. "I figured you’d like them."

Ronin’s eyes widened, his interest piqued. "A whole damn basement full of... what, presents?"

You shrugged, not bothering to give away all your secrets. "You can say that. I figured I should really get something special for you. You know, for all the things you’ve done."

Ronin just stared at you as you unloaded the contents of the first bag, his gaze narrowing as he saw the items in front of him. First, there was a beanie—black, perfectly styled, just like the one he always wore. He couldn’t help but smirk, though there was a slight confusion in his eyes.

"Nice," he muttered, running his fingers through it. "But, uh, I’m starting to wonder... how many damn bags do you have?"

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you continued pulling out more bags, each one filled with more extravagant, bizarre items: dark, emo clothes, studded jackets, chains, ripped jeans, and layers upon layers of black fabric that screamed both punk and chaos. Ronin looked at them, then back at you, eyes flicking with disbelief. "What... is all this?"

"And..." you said with a dramatic pause, pulling out something else, "your crowbar." You placed it next to him with a flourish, like it was the final piece of a grand display. "A new crowbar separately for your work, the one you’d want."

Ronin blinked, his gaze switching from the crowbar back to you. He was visibly taken aback, mouth slightly agape. "How the hell did you get all of this stuff, Y/N?"

You sat down beside him on the bed, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you gave him a sly, confident look. "Well... let’s just say I saved up all the tips you gave me."

His eyes widened further. "You—what? How long has this been going on?" He let out a low whistle, his disbelief turning into a mix of admiration and something close to shock. "I didn’t realize I was such a great tipper."

You shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Hey, it’s fine. ." You leaned forward, your voice lowering as you added, "It’s just... the least I could do."

Ronin’s expression softened, though there was a tinge of something else in his eyes—something like warmth mixed with the confusion of being overwhelmed by your unexpected generosity.

He looked down at the piles of presents in front of him, the crowbar, the clothes, the beanie, everything carefully picked out and perfectly fitting for his twisted sense of style. After a long pause, his voice finally came, gruff but sincere. "Thank you," he muttered, meeting your eyes. "This... this is a lot. I didn’t expect... all this."

You smiled, your hand resting gently in his as you gave a soft squeeze. "It’s nothing, really. You’ve given me so much... I just wanted to give back." Your voice softened as you added, "I’ll always find a way, even if it means saving every penny for months."

Ronin took a deep breath, trying to suppress the emotions welling up in him. He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual smug facade. "You’re insane,"

Ronin smirked, leaning back against the counter as you nervously brought the slice of cake closer. His plum-colored hair framed his face, and those sharp eyes of his glinted mischievously as he leaned in.

Now, He wants to shut up!

"Good, just like that, transfer it to my mouth…" he murmured, voice dripping with playful mockery.

Your cheeks flamed as you complied, but before you could even think of pulling back, Ronin’s lips grazed the fork—and your fingers, on purpose, of course.

"Mmm… Nn…" he mused exaggeratedly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as you fidgeted.

"Ronin! Seriously—!" you protested, pulling your hand back.

He leaned in closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What? You’re blushing like crazy, darling. Was it that good?" He chuckled darkly. "Gotta say though… it was delicious."

You turned your head, already flustered, but his gaze pinned you in place.

"Wait, darling," he said casually, his voice dropping. "You’ve got some cream stuck on your mouth. Sit still. I’ll get it for you."

Before you could react, his thumb brushed over your lips, but instead of wiping it away, Ronin leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness from your skin.

"Nn… Sweet," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Ronin! " you gasped, trying to squirm away, only for him to suddenly push you back against the counter.

"Ah—!"

"Damn…" he muttered, pinning you beneath him, his breath hot against your ear. "It’s your fault for moving, darling. You know better than to disobey me."

"Let me up—!" you stammered, your heartbeat thundering as he hovered over you.

"Not a chance." His voice was low and teasing, laced with a hint of danger. His eyes burned into yours, and his smirk widened. "Now that you’ve got me all riled up… how about I skip the cake and gobble you up instead, hmm?"

Before you could even muster a reply, he leaned in, sinking his teeth gently into the crook of your neck.

"Ah—!"

Ronin groaned softly against your skin, savoring every moment. "Damn, darling… The cake was good, but this…" He licked his lips as he pulled back slightly, his breath hitching. "Your sweetness puts that lovely apple crumble to shame."

You tried to catch your breath, your fingers gripping his arms weakly. "R-Ronin… the cake… your presents—"

He silenced you with a low chuckle, his face impossibly close. "I don’t care about the cake. And the gifts? Yeah, those are nice too, but they don’t compare to you, darling. You’re the best damn thing anyone could’ve given me."

"R-Ronin…"

He pressed another kiss to your neck, humming softly. "Never thought I’d give a damn about my birthday, but if this is what it’s like… I could get used to it."

You felt your resolve wavering, his words melting into you like honey. "T-Thank you for being born, Ronin…" you whispered. "I love you."

His movements stilled for a moment, his gaze locking with yours. "Say that again, I love you too." he demanded softly.

"I love you," you repeated, your voice trembling.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "Good." He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. "Now, darling…" His tone dropped dangerously. "Don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you leave my side. You’re mine. Forever. Got it?"

His hand clasped yours tightly as he murmured against your lips, "I’ll treasure you, darling—always."

Forever, indeed.

A dream, A shame, the last thing you remember is being.....hit by the same man, you found peace out.

Hey why..?

Was I that painful to you? Did I become boring to you?

Or Did you give me the peace I wanted..?

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