#There could be a chance that the reactions to this are so strong it makes lucasfilm and disney reconsider the cancelation

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, iii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: heavy angst, fluff

rating: 15+

word count: 7.8k

summary: the rules yoongi made in your life are doomed to collapse.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: tba

warnings: biker!jungkook, smoking and vaping, oc is learning what it's like to be platonically touched and loved, state of numbness, anxiety, betrayal, lying, spying.

note: i love this chapter so much. i finally feel connected to the characters, which is something that i was lacking in the first two chapters. i broke sweat writing this and i spent hours on this. don't be a silent reader and have mercy on me. let me know what you think. <3

The vaporous retrospection of Jeongguk’s hands offered you solace beneath the slanted downpour of the hot shower stream. Using the slender, satiny, beige scrunchie that is used more as a statement bracelet of yours than a ponytail holder, you seized your long bob into your trembling fists and put it up, imagining it were Jeongguk’s stable and strong fingers working around the sleek fabric, making sure your hair didn’t soak one drop of the water. 

The tears had halted, somehow, the moment your foot lifted over the shower floor. You let the stream dribble over your face, wash away your awkward moment of weakness—the mascara you rubbed off, the ebony teardrop-shaped trails of your agony that in another dimension wasn’t agony at all, but the velvet antithesis of it. Something very akin to the homely-like joy, warmth and a connection you could depend on. This is what you did, more often than not. Set your imagination into motion as a form of coping mechanism that would smooth out all the nerves in your system that had been wrung out into an unnatural, unrecognizable architecture. 

It wasn’t that Yoongi didn’t typify a wall you could lean against. Vitally and physically, he did. Daily, you had a roof over your head and food in your tummy. But metaphorically and emotionally, that wall he embodied was too sturdy. Impossible to break through. Impossible to speak through. And that could never be the connection your soul so earnestly sought. 

That could never be anything at all. 

Nothing awaited you on the other side of this dead end. 

Jeongguk helped you perceive that. With his hands, with his wise words that caused such tumultuous chaos in your body. Enough for you to find the nearest exit and isolate yourself. Weep in peace. Wash it all away. And it felt as though someone up above, beyond the clouds and the stars, wrote down this moment a long time ago. Made it so Jeongguk would offer you a chance to shower—in fact made it so the first snow of the wintertime would begin to fall and block your way home. 

What would’ve happened if your bus did come after all, if you stubbed Jeongguk’s cigarette and waved him goodbye? 

You would be still standing in front of this dead end, in front of this sky-high wall. Not half-pivoted to leave, not considering other options. Not carrying the closest experiences of physical touch in your hands. Not feeling warmth. Not swallowing the aftertaste of Jeongguk’s cinnamon tea. Not having the ghost and the reaction of his hands as an anchor you cling to. 

You would have nothing. Just like you did your entire life. 

And if the turmoil never happened, it wouldn’t have made this much difference. It wouldn’t have ripped open a hole in this nothingness; it wouldn’t have shattered the iron of your shackle. Because it was this turmoil of his, this pain of his, that coaxed that wisdom out of him, despite his fatal flaw. His friend became yours—and beneath the shower stream, you came to terms with it. 

With the principle that makes life a life: no pain, no gain. 

Rain brings flowers, and the more you dwelled in the memory of Jeongguk’s hands, the more the buds of blossoms opened with more sense of safety and comfort upon your tree. Because they made you feel this way. 

His arm lifting in your direction at the sound of your cry, then whisking back to his side in respect. His hands warmer than the cup they were holding, not twitching at the throe of the scalding liquid. Good, good hands, belonging to a good person. 

Nothing about him is unsafe, even when he exposes the painful truth over your life. How could anything about him be unsafe by any means, when the only shower gel he had was of that cinnamon fragrance. 

He’s no longer the essence of macadamia, musk and cedarwood. 

He’s cinnamon through and through. The spice of sweetness, the spice of winter. The epitome of warmth and carefulness, profound and unforgettable in taste. 

The tears you weep next are for him. For the deeply-buried unrequited affection he has for Ka-eun. For the unfair, horrendous treatment he deals with day by day. For all the love he stores within himself while having no one, absolutely no one, to give it to. 

And feverish pearls of thankfulness trickle out of your tear ducts for him, too. For the freedom he so freely and selflessly engraved into the flesh of your heart that you sense won’t overgrow anytime soon. 

Pearls of thankfulness that he’s a witness of, for he stands at the door. Puffy mouth agape, chocolate eyes wide beneath thick-rimmed glasses. Something is ringing—you can’t hear it, but you can feel the pulse of the noise. The alarm that beats in his aura as he’s frozen on the spot, unknowing what to do. He can’t see one inch of your body due to the tinted hue of the glass separating you from him, but he can see your tears. Can see their flow. And perhaps he can see their inner sadness, too. 

You don’t feel naked. You were bare and raw while fully clothed just a while ago in his kitchen, but right now with nothing to cover you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. His irises don’t glide down. Don’t even dare to skim down to the darkly shadowed back of your shoulder that faces him. His mouth moves, the ball of his Adam’s apple leaps nearly to his chin as he swallows, but you just can’t hear a damn thing. 

And then the ringing grows in volume. A sound that pierces your eardrum, that rips your gaze away from him as soon as your hearing senses accept it. Your brows pull in, the shrillness of the sonancy reverberating through your sternum like icy gunfire—and you wish it was softer, you wish the everlasting coldness wouldn’t stalk you, and you wish you would stay warm. 

You inhale and exhale. Tightness swathes your chest and the following breath you take is shallow, not enough for your lungs. Panic settles in, your arms wrap around your body, and then… shadow. 

Shadow inches in. Spreads its wingspan. 

When you glance behind your shoulder, the glass door is open. Jeongguk stands at the entrance with his graceful hands holding up a towel for you. His head is turned to the side, unwilling to look at your nakedness out of that respect of his. 

You don’t have control over your body when you step out of the shower and into the cotton of the makeshift security of those wings. Using the carefulness he’s patched together with, he wraps the largeness of the towel around you. As if you were a small child, being dried off by its father. The only spots of your form he touches are your shoulders and the upper planes of your chest. Your eyelids are heavy with the weight of your tears and a certain tiredness from the day as your irises flick to his. And the spell of your numbness, little by little, breaks because he looks right down at you with utmost seriousness and concern. 

He sees you. 

You’re seen. 

“Hold it,” he murmurs, speaking of the two edges of the towel, the edges of the wings that he still holds together with his fist. Those corners of his mouth are downturned, just like they were when you entered his apartment. You mimic that pout, lamenting that you’re making him feel this way, that it’s your fault the turmoil has come back to him, even though the shared negative emotion smears your chest with warmth. It’s an oxymoron, your guilt laced with your desire to stay in this dimmed microcosm with him. 

It reminds you of the connection you seek. It resembles it too, too much. 

You fold your arm beneath the towel and pinch the edges together, gripping his fingers in the process. A shiver cascades down your spine due to that layered touch and Jeongguk blinks, lingering in your clasp for a moment before he lets go, leaning over to turn off the water. 

Grateful, you are. For him, for the way he’s allowing you to experience such an imperative part of humanity that you could never reach. You yearn to hug him, not speak a vowel, and just exist in this newness. 

You don’t know what any of this means. You’re conscious of the shift, the shift of the gravity between you and him, but none of it carries the weight of romance. He encapsulates something else, something way bigger, abstruse and abstract. 

Something that could kill you… or save you in a millisecond. 

“What was that?” Jeongguk asks, his voice still low and murmuring. There’s an impenetrable depth to his pensive eyes that somehow quickens the speed of your recuperation. His question casts a light on you that is blinding, but you can bear it. After what happened in his kitchen, you can, truly,  handle anything. “I knocked. Multiple times. I called out to you, but you didn’t answer back.” 

His eyes flick between yours, searching for an explanation, demanding it, and you’d give him anything… anything he’d ask after the way he turned your life around. 

“I—” you begin but trail off, not knowing how to explain the frailty of your mental health. You, too, comb through his eyelashes in pursuit of help for your words, but what you come across are not letters but the vast prettiness of his being. 

Your knees give out on you, weakened by him, and a snuggly blanket of completion comes to rest over you because Jeongguk’s arm jerks towards your direction again and this time, he doesn’t let it drift back. He places his palm on your arm, holding you steady so you don’t plummet to the ground, lingering there once again. 

Life-giving, that gesture is. You feel your blood pumping throughout the pathways of your veins with more vigor, enlivening your entire body, helping you come out of the fog of your stupor. The sap in your tree thickens and you can see more clearly, hear with a better precision and breathe without any pinpricks or heftiness in your lungs. 

Freedom spreads down your limbs, rooting from the warmth pooling in the dent of your arm, the part of you that Jeongguk is gripping. A cult leader, he’s become. A savior, a dangerous man. And you shall never be his companion again—you’ll be his follower until the day you cease to exist on this earth. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, abruptly breathless, and the axis of his grip opens out, descending down to the rounded edge of your elbow. His thumb traces circles on that fleshiness and the comfort you receive from it brings forth your liquid emotions. They spill down onto your cheeks, but you’re not ashamed of them. You’re not ashamed of anything anymore. 

“I’m okay,” you say and you mean it—because you’ve stepped inside an environment that feels so terribly secure, so terribly grounding, a place that will never leave the internal realm of your soul. 

Jeongguk scans your face, brows knitted. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

You inhale, tipping your face down to rub away your tears with your towel-clothed knuckles. “Sometimes when I get overwhelmed I go numb… that’s all.” 

His circles halt. A nebulous shadow eclipses over his tense features. “Did I cause this?” 

Your lips part. “You told me something I really needed to hear, something that was hard for me to accept. You helped me, Jeongguk.” 

His brows twitch and it is like sunlight filtering through the clouds, the way a small ball of light delicately breaks through the shadow on his face. Your heart writes it down on the bark of your tree in flowery prose—it is a moment that gives you the inkling that you should remember it, and you’re not really sure why. 

Jeongguk pats down your arm. A singular, ephemeral and a significant caress that is charged with a range of words that he doesn’t get to say, for a phone rings somewhere behind the place you’re standing. He nods his chin towards it, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants, and it is now that you perceive that he’s changed out of his scrubs into a monochrome leisure outfit. A black oversized top, matching sweats, socked-feet inside white slippers. Even his glasses fit his choice of color—a prettification that makes your knees wobble again, but not in such a drastic way as before.  

“This is the fourth time he’s calling you,” he says, speaking of the phone ringing, but you have very little care for it. Your body, automatically, out of horrible habit, tells you to care, but you feel a strong tendril of strength that helps you resist it, stand up to it—and stand up to your brother. “That’s why I’m here. He won’t stop.” 

You glimpse behind your shoulder at the screen of your phone filled with only the letters of Yoongi’s name. No picture, no emoji. You think that quite perfectly illustrates your relationship with him and you scoff, returning your gaze back to Jeongguk, who nibbles his lower lip absentmindedly, eyes following each movement you make. 

Yoongi can’t get to you when you’re inside this environment. He doesn’t have the key to it. 

The ringing falls to nothingness and a half-minute passes before he calls again. Anger curls in your gut and you turn around, snatching your phone off the ivory bathroom sink, because if you don’t bite the bullet and answer his call, he won’t leave you alone. You press the green button and before you can place the device to your ear and say something, Yoongi beats you to it. 

He spills out his radical worry, intertwining your name into the sentence that threatens to impair your environment. 

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I was worried sick that something happened to you. You should’ve been home an hour ago—”

Your towel shifts as your trembling returns to you, nearly exposing your vulnerable parts, and you set your phone down on the sink, putting him on speaker phone. You wrap the soft fabric tighter around you and connect your gaze to Jeongguk’s in the mirror. Your brother spills on, no longer interrupted. 

Sorrowfulness, in vivid hues of blue, draws out across Jeongguk’s countenance. 

“—It’s snowing like crazy. Where are you?” 

Your throat dries, but you will your strength to last a little longer. You clench your fists and do not tear your eyes away from Jeongguk’s, which seem to have the same determination. He’s a monumental pillar, ready to catch you if you feel faint, and you feel this in a great depth that has the epoch-making ability to replenish you. Even far away in a memory, you deem. 

“I’m with a friend,” you croak out and you repeat the short sentence with a bit more heroism because you don’t wish to be suggestive of weakness. Not again, not ever. A subdued light floods Jeongguk’s eyes in slow motion at your words, giving you a sense of pride and validation. A specialty of his; it must be the bottom of his kindness, the foundation of his heart—this very unique act of emotional service. And you close your palm over it, clinging to it with all your might. “I was taking a shower. I’ll get dressed and come home.” 

The truth in the rawest form; the exposure of your life beyond the restraints of his standards. You fear his reaction, you fear his reaction so much that within the silence of him comprehending your words you almost go to seek Jeongguk’s comfort in any way he’s willing to give you, but Yoongi stops you.

Yoongi surprises you. 

“Okay. Give me your friend’s address. I’ll pick you up.” 

Your heart, with full force, kicks against your ribcage just once.

You didn’t expect his resignation—and you would’ve never guessed it would come plaited with such a gentle form of care, for his care has never been gentle. It has always been stifling, frantic and utterly manic. 

And the way you lick your lips, swallow and take a new breath in this even newer reality, it feels as though you won. You won the invisible war with your brother who has wounded you too much for you to get up. 

But you did.

You got up, and Jeongguk refreshed you, prepared you to fight back and win this round. 

It must be his words in your mouth, ones he silently transmitted to you through your potent eye contact with him in the mirror. It must be, you believe it to be so, because at this moment you’re too stunned to do anything. 

“No need. My friend will give me a ride home.” 

Jeongguk visibly relaxes, nodding solemnly, approving. A spasm of excitement buzzes in your tummy at the sight, and you can’t help the small growth of your smile. And it, too, is complete when he half reciprocates it, a dimple appearing by the corner of his mouth that is lifted in your honor, in the honor of what you both managed to do in the span of one hour. 

“Alright, tell her to drive slow.” 

Yoongi ends the phone call. Jeongguk pulls his hands out of his pockets and begins to crack his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back as if he were in a stressful situation that strained all of his muscles. You bite your lip to relieve yourself of all the buzzing sensations that crawl upon your every nerve ending, but your abrupt laughter releases your teeth from the pillow. 

Her. 

You laugh so hard that it forces you to hide your face in the towel, the sound muffled but real, alive and exhilarating. And when you peek at Jeongguk in the mirror for the last time, you catch his smile widening and breaking, at last, into a grin that mirrors your enthusiasm. 

“This is your life,” he rasps, adding your name, which propels butterflies to tickle, fleetly, your tummy. “Your life by your own rules. Enjoy every moment of it. You deserve it.”

And with that he leaves, clicking the door shut behind him. 

Your tea has gone cold, but the cinnamon scent is still prominent. 

Jeongguk is manspreading on the couch, one fist propped on his thigh while he is hunched over his loud phone that he clutches in his other hand. He doesn’t notice you as you paddle softly to the kitchen counter to take a sip of your tea—and it isn’t until you slurp the nippy liquid that he rips his attention away from the videos he was watching. He locks his phone immediately, pocketing it, and bathes his crepuscular apartment in an ample silence. 

You're glad for the lack of light. 

Witnessing the state of you without his presence was a scare. The traces of your mascara tears were scattered with flecks and specks on your cheeks that the stream didn’t rinse off, and your eyelids have become swollen with the excessive amount of crying you’ve done within the fateful hour. Your excitement hasn’t been shunned by your sparsity of confidence, however. In fact, it keeps on increasing, having transfigured into a velvet ribbon that you wrapped around the bark of your tree whilst getting dressed. You fondled it then and you fondle it now, dwelling on the matter that went down, and how good it felt. How right, how freeing. But owing to what happened, to what Jeongguk has done for you, you’d much rather be pretty in his eyes right now.

And you’re anything but pretty. 

You’re a ruination. About to be rebuilt into something pretty. Or someone. 

Setting the cup down, you smile at the taste of cinnamon and cloves, liking the way it is so redolent of who Jeongguk is. You hope it fills your dreams later tonight, bursting there into smithereens that you can carry inside yourself. 

As little talismans. 

To keep you company. To keep the perception of the safety Jeongguk had provided you tucked within the crevices of your body—so you can go back to it, remind yourself of it as soon as you start to forget. 

“Ready to go?” 

His voice penetrates the silence, announcing that you are to leave the fortress-like environment you are already missing. You direct your eyes, for the last time, at the little gleeful Gingerbread man, graze the tip of your thumb over his smile in an effort to engrave it there as a keepsake. And then you nod, though you’re not ready. 

You’ll never be ready. What if your freedom disappears as soon as you cross the threshold of your home? 

You blink the thought away. Grow weary of your deathless fear that just continues rising in your psyche. You wish you could kill it—or rather have Jeongguk asphyxiate it, just so it stops whispering those what ifs, those questions and those hostile words. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

Jeongguk walks past you and returns to his place where he stood a little while ago. He places two black helmets on the counter. One bigger and one particularly smaller. You wonder if it belonged to Ka-eun once, if the inside of the helmet is still perfumed with the scent of her hair. 

Another ifs. 

You look away. Your forefinger finds his pink vape, fondling it, saying goodbye. You’ll terribly miss this life you lived in this apartment—and once you get home, you plan to pray for another snow, so you can escape, so you can live properly. Here within this warmth; here where all things are possible, aromatic and whimsical.

Jeongguk studies you, and as soon as you instinctively glance at him, he extends his hand and closes his fingers around your tousled bun. It brings back a memory, a painful memory of the past, when your father would run his fingers through your wet hair. Back when you were a child, when everything was normal and your father loved you. No matter the weather, you would slip away to the petite creek behind the house. Your hair was so long that it would drift upon those soft ripples. Even the wind would gather it and soak it in the water—to cleanse it off all the bad words your mother would utter over it. Too long. It’s shameful. It gets in your food. It’s wet again? It’s dripping all over my floors. Mop it up. God, you’re useless. Do it properly. Water was invariably your means of escapism. Oh, how could it not be when you’re a water sign yourself. And your father was the only one who would dry your hair with a hand towel he would keep in his study for you before your mother saw, before she could curse you for another lifetime. 

And the way Jeongguk does it now, you metamorphose into that small child that never did anything right. Suddenly, your hair is long again—and you didn’t cut it when you turned fifteen and your father somehow stopped loving you, stopped paying attention to you, stopped drying your hair. And as small as you are right now, your heart regrets the loss of your dearest papa. 

Your hair hasn’t been touched since the death of him. 

Since he couldn’t touch it anymore from the afterlife. 

The tears burn now behind your eyes, but you stifle them back. You don’t want to cry anymore, you don’t want to experience this pain any longer. You can’t even look at Jeongguk in fear those liquid feelings would betray your will; you can only focus your gaze on that vape of his. And before you know what you’re doing, you're grasping it and placing it between your lips. 

My nerves are asking for more, he had said and you relate to him on such a profound level that it feels gratifying once you puff on it and the strawberry scent imbues your lungs—to such an extent that when you respire, you can feel it mingling with the oxygen. It’s still there. Such sweetness. You understand why he likes it so much, why he can’t stay away from it and smokes it, despite the fact he shouldn’t mix it with his cigarettes. 

Jeongguk smiles through the ivory fume, drifting his hand up to the crown of your head before he inspects the face-framing wisps. They’re damp, but not wet, not like the ball of your bun. 

He lets his hand fall to his side. You lament it. 

“Your hair is wet,” he says gently, pursing his lips. “I don’t know if your bun will fit inside the helmet. You should put it inside your sweater, so you don’t get sick.” 

It is something akin to a religious experience, not being told off for having wet hair. You mull over it, the fact he cares enough to tell you what to do, so you don’t get stricken with illness. The tears rush forth with more verve, and you try your hardest to not cry again. It’s like your father, a healthy and younger and pre-you version of him, is standing in front of you. Out of this world, heavenly, this moment is. 

You take another puff. You must. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jeongguk asks, a lopsided smile hanging upon his lips. His eyes flick down to your parted mouth exhaling out the smoke that blends in with the cinnamon spice. “Keep it.” 

You blink in surprise. “Are you sure?” 

He nods, busying himself with something on the other side of the kitchen, beside his refrigerator. In a minute he’s back, carrying a bulbous sack of foreign items that he plants into your free hand. 

“Take these fruits home. I put the cinnamon tea inside, too.” 

You part your mouth, touched to the core. Open the sack and uncover that he’s put inside three figs and two teabags. You pout, whisk your eyes back to him to see him nibbling on his lip, features back to being solemn and glossy. He’s breaking a sweat—perhaps fearful that you’ll turn him down, laugh at it and brush it off. You’re heard of Ka-eun doing this on many occasions and if there’s anything you could do for him, to caress that scar of his, you shall not be like her. 

You fold the paper sack and clutch it to your chest. 

“I’ll eat it and drink it all,” you say, but you don’t mean the latter. You’ll put the teabags on your nightstand—to have him close. “Thank you. You’re so kind.” 

His following exhale is a sigh of relief and he nods, irises preoccupied with something on the upper part of your sternum. When you follow his sight, he’s already taking a step forward and discarding you of the unknown thing that he was focusing on. You realize it’s a fluff from the towel when he flicks it off from his fingertip—and then, as if he didn’t do such a groundbreaking thing for you, he takes both of the helmets. 

“I’d give you more but that's all I have.” 

The ground breaks, and so does your heart. 

He turns on his heel and heads for the hall. The atmosphere is hushful, but tranquil as you both put on your shoes and jackets. Jeongguk holds the door open for you, waiting for you to step out first before he does. He clicks it shut, waits again for the sing-song tone to tell him it’s locked, and then you’re in the elevator. 

The elevator that is microscopic, even for two people. 

You glance behind yourself at the mirror, find yourself pallid and colorless. Insecurity gnaws at you, and so you pinch your cheeks, one by one. Jeongguk watches you and shakes his head at you once you notice his stare. There’s no room, no time for any exchange for words because the elevator opens and he signals to you to go first with a tilt of his head. 

And that is what brings color to your cheeks, not your pinching. 

His bike outside of the apartment complex stands forlornly. The black cover over it is densely snow-laden, and the snowflakes flutter and spin in the air more tenderly than they did earlier. You, yourself, stand back with your sack and watch him do the work. He hands you, wordlessly, your helmet and once his hand is free, he slides his own down his head, popping open the visor. Nimbly, he takes both ends of the cover and lets the snow glissade down on the patch of grass behind his bike, which is draped with the same substance. Then, he expertly folds it and stuffs it inside the trunk, lifting his arm in your direction and asking for the sack, which he neatly places inside as well. 

You’re breathless once he’s finished—and you’re empty of all air when he begins to concentrate on you. 

His eyes are saturated with something sensitively dark as he takes your helmet from your arm. The close proximity tugs at your heart and you feel smaller than you did in his apartment. Smaller in a way that suggests you’re being taken care of. His icy hands undo your bun, but he doesn’t give you back your scrunchie. Mindlessly, he drags it down his wrist. Your cheeks heat up within this wuthering vicinity, and Jeongguk protects your wet hair from the wind by pulling the hem of your scarf over your head, tucking your strands inside. Your lungs forget to breathe when he glides the helmet down your head with extra tenderness and necessitates for your eyes, flipping up the visor. 

His hands remain on the helmet as if upon your cheeks, inspecting.

Always inspecting. 

“All good?” 

Your heart does a somersault. You nod. 

“Are you scared?” 

It’s not hitting you yet—the fact you’ll drift through the snowy streets with nothing to protect the sides of your body. No seatbelt, nothing. Only trust in the driver. 

“I’ll drive slow,” Jeongguk adds, his words an allusion to Yoongi’s, and you huff out a soft laugh, the lightheartedness from the occurrence consuming you all over again. 

He taps the side of your helmet and walks towards his bike. Doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smile—as if he didn’t share your enthusiasm in that aspect. He swings a leg over the body of the vehicle and presses the start button, the engine roaring into the evening. It seemingly opens its eyes: lights that line the body of the bike and its tires glare in dark neon red. He’s a black figure against the violet, twinkling scenery, sprinkled with the daintiest, most intricate snowflakes, and your relation is clear to you as you observe him like this. 

You’re becoming attached to him. And maybe that should be the thing to be scared of.

Jeongguk curls his fingers in the air, gesticulating that you are to hop on, and you do. Because you’re not scared, because the idea of being scared of Jeongguk doesn’t simply make sense to you. 

The bike is cold as you follow his motions and sit down behind him. You hiss at the sensation and he glances back at you, though he’s not able to see much due to the thickness of his helmet. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s cold.” 

He coos to himself, ever so quietly that it gives you the impression that you weren’t supposed to hear it. And before you can comprehend his softness and react, he speaks. 

“You have to hang on. I’ll get you home soon.” He tweaks the handlebars. “Hold onto me.” 

As soon as you place your palms on his shoulders, the vehicle begins moving backwards in a more rapid way than you anticipated. You startle, gasping, tensing behind him and gripping his muscles. Jeongguk is quick with his response—before he drives out of the sidewalk and onto the road, he moves your hand from his shoulder to his waist. Would move your other hand, too, but he has to handle the bike, turning in a swift way that takes your breath. 

“Hold me like this, don’t let go,” he calls out, and you comply, intertwining your fingers before his chest, and then he’s drifting.

Your intertwinement loosens. You grapple the front of his puffer jacket for more support as the wind, interlaced with the unmerciful snowflakes, sails through the sides of your body, entering you through your throat, knotting your stomach. The vacant tide of the airy atmosphere appears to be sturdy and ruthless, but when you risk letting go of his jacket to flip down your visor because your eyes have started to burn, the sharpness of the breezing air is silky, elegant and lovely. Not severe, not harsh, not against you, but for you. It’s like the air parts for your touch, enveloping you, and because you long to feel more of it, you extend your hand to the side, allowing yourself to simply feel. Feel life be compliant and lenient. You lean your head against the center of Jeongguk’s back and watch your hand be kissed by the wind and the snowflakes, not having one care in the world. 

Everything wrong ceases to exist on this road with him. 

You mimic the waves of the sea with your hand because you sense that you’re being carried to a better part of life. You’re sailing, swimming, you’re happy and at peace, and those feelings are accompanied by the sudden sound of Jeongguk’s sweet chuckle. But you don’t shy away. No, you don’t have any reason to, for Jeongguk extends his hand, too. His ripples are way lengthier, protruding through the air in more depth due to the size of his hand. Together you swim like this just for a brief, blissful moment—he, in the front, you behind him like the follower you are, like the child you are in your adulthood. 

And the time frame of this felicity doesn’t pause at the red light. 

You’ve situated your hands back to his chest, and Jeongguk rubs them in fast motions, warming them up, glancing back at you. 

“Did you flip down your visor?” he questions, his voice deepened by the adrenaline of the ride. 

You nod, internally geeking at the fact he’s touching your hands. “I did. My eyes were burning.” 

“Good.” 

Your heart is delectated by that praise. Content drowsiness seizes you while your joy beats, meekly, in your belly. And it is now that you perceive that you’re hugging him. It may be through a myriad of warm layers, but you’re hugging him—and he’s holding your hands, caring enough about them being cold while his own are frosty, but still filmy, still soft, still gentle. And this time, when he lets go, you don’t lament their absence because he’s buried in you, somehow, the trust, the security that he will touch you again. 

There’s nothing to be afraid of. 

He’ll come back around. 

Everything is okay. 

You must have fallen asleep with your one eye open because you don’t even recognize how much time has passed. Jeongguk taps your hands again, calling you by your name, and you hum, feeling him burying that trust deeper by the gesture, feeling yourself getting used to being touched by him. 

“I’m driving through your bus’s line now, I need you to tell me where you live.” 

You straighten and squint in the dark, deliberating your surroundings. You’re four stops away from the one you get off on. 

“Go straight and then take the first turn,” you navigate him, your tone marked by your sleepiness. “If you see the trees in the distance, that’s where my house is.” 

You return to your former position, resting peacefully on his back, and you’re about to close your eyes again, but Jeongguk’s following question fling them right open. 

“Should I stop a few houses down?” 

You’ve never had Yoongi expecting your arrival, so you’re not sure if he’ll be standing by the window, waiting for your friend’s car to park in the driveway. You hesitate, but are inclined to go with his suggestion, though Jeongguk continues to speak in your silence. 

“I don’t want you to deal with his bullshit once he sees that I’m not a girl.” 

His intonation is snappy, laced with his own personal vexation from your relationship with your brother. Your lips curl in a satisfied smile, quivering under your helmet—and here and now, the guilt doesn’t creep in, the inert need to stand up for him doesn’t resurface. You take pleasure in the way he’s bothered by it and the emotion stays. You’re so glad for it that you softly pat his chest a few times and agree with his suggestion. 

It dawns on you that his vexation with your brother is the reason why he didn’t share your enthusiasm when you stood outside of his apartment complex. Your inner child dances around the tree within you, the tails of the velvet ribbon brushing through her long, long hair. 

Jeongguk sighs once he nears your house and you deem he does so because he sees how it’s positioned. The ivory castle of doom dominates the street, overlooking all the other smaller houses, which face each other, while perched on a hill. There’s nowhere for him to hide, not now when he’s driven up the hill. 

He kills the engine, parking the bike by the side of the road. Your hands are numb as you untangle them. You shake them in the air in an effort to get your blood pumping in them. Jeongguk remains sitting and you take it as a sign to hop off first, which you do. Your bum is bitingly ice-cold and, hissing, you rub it. Jeongguk laughs at you, popping open his visor. His eyes are crinkly and starry while he amusedly looks at you, and there’s some kind of intent to his stare that makes your stomach feel all fuzzy. 

You burn under the helmet. 

Blood flows to your digits, and therefore you use them to rid yourself of the protective headpiece. You struggle, however. Stuck in it, you can’t move it—no matter how hard you try, how many muscles you flex in order to discard yourself of it. You hear a muffled chuckle, and then you feel cold hands against yours, pulling up the helmet with a certain kind of precision and strength you don’t possess. And there is the close proximity again, jumbling your guts. The depth to the eye contact and unvoiced words that are passed through the wind, which blows through your sweat-clad hair and forehead, unraveling your scarf, baring you for his eyes to see. A wispy strand of hair gets entangled in your eyelashes, flying through the planes of your face, and Jeongguk doesn’t put it away. He surveys it as he contemplates something—and at this moment all you can think about is how he’s never not lost in his thoughts. 

The boy is always reflecting on something within the complex space of his mind, and you deem that’s why there’s an entire canvas of stars in his eyes. The universe must have given it to him, hand-picked by God, because his head is permanently in the clouds. 

How beautiful that is, how momentous. 

“You fell asleep on me,” he rasps, as if he himself couldn’t believe it. “It wasn’t that bad then, was it?” 

You loop that strand of hair behind your ear and shake your head, flicking your eyes for a split second to the unlit balcony of your parents’ bedroom. How great and bad would it be, if they stood there. You don’t know why your heart is seeking them at this moment, why your eyes looked there, but you leave it be. Some purpose it has, but your mind doesn’t have to understand it right now. You find peace in that. 

“You’re a safe female driver,” you joke, your words split by your soft laughter, but Jeongguk isn’t amused, not anymore. You bite your lip, your pleasure from it heightening. “I was scared at first, but then it felt liberating.” 

Jeongguk nods, attuned to your experience. He hangs your helmet on one of the handle bars. “So you’re willing to ride with me again?” 

He peeks at you, magnetically pulling your answer out of you by the laws of the stars in his eyes, and as you blush, you melt. You irrevocably and nonsensically melt. 

“Yeah, but remind me to bring my gloves next time,” you say, grinning so wide the muscles in your cheeks ache. You pull down the sleeves of your jacket to keep the cold from penetrating them. Jeongguk notices, but if he smiles—you can’t tell. He’s still wearing his helmet. 

You think about his offer in the short interlude, looking forward to it. You’d get on and drive back with him to his apartment if you could. When will the next time be, though? He doesn’t drive to school on his bike—he uses public transportation and you wonder why. 

“Why don’t you take the bike to school?” 

Jeongguk inhales a big gust of air, tilting his head back. The snowflakes fall into the wide hole of his helmet, sitting on his nose. As he mulls over his response, his eyes land on you with a tendril of ferocity that puzzles you. 

“I’d rather not give them any more reason to talk about me.” 

He begins slapping his hands back and forth, an act that portrays how nervous he is to talk about this. The stars in his eyes lower to dullness, his irises unwilling to pierce yours. You recollect his nerves and how unwilling he was to flesh them out and unriddle them, too. You know, from his past bus stop heart-spilling, that he doesn’t have many friends within his field, but he never mentioned that they genuinely dislike him. You never heard the details, the gravity of this day-to-day problem. And you feel so bad for him that as he looks out into the distance across the hill, you take the necessary step towards him and take his hand into yours. 

It is the most courageous thing you’ve ever done, but Jeongguk is perturbed. 

And you don’t know it is due to the light unexpectedly turning on in the bedroom of your parents until he pushes you back onto the sidewalk and towers over you, creating a shadow over you that hides you from your brother, who has entered your parents’ bedroom to spy on whether you’ve come home or not. 

“He’s there,” he clarifies in a hushed tone, completing the puzzle piece, and when you lean your head out of the shadow, he gently presses you back into safety by cradling your ear. 

But you can’t dwell on the touch, not when your heart thrashes against your ribcage with such dreadful, stabbing trepidation because Yoongi never goes to your parents’ bedroom. As far as you know, he hasn’t been there since their death. He kept their door bolted tight for the longest time and it remained so until you begged him to give you the key, so you could keep the room tiny in their honor whenever you missed them. He believed ghosts swarmed its walls there the most out of all the rooms in the house, and if the double doors remained locked, they would stay away—and they would stay away from you, even more so with the bracelet he braided you. You persisted, reminding him of the black plait, and he surrendered. For cleaning and nothing else; we don’t come here for any other purposes, he had decided.

This should be the thing to be scared of. Yoongi prancing around the room as if your parents never died, as if he never swore he’d never walk there again, as if his belief in the paranormal never haunted his mentality. 

This is flat-out terrifying—and bears the image of betrayal. 

Your throat dries out, and your lips form that pout of yours. 

“Is he… still there?” you ask, your voice breaking in consequence of your full-body trembling, and the stars in Jeongguk’s eyes plummet to an unmitigated darkness. 

He doesn’t vacillate as he pushes your head to his chest and holds you to him, keeping you safe in his shadow while he discreetly checks if his presence is still by the balcony windows. His fingers dig into the thickness of your hair, and you wish he would pull on it, so you wouldn’t feel this sagging pain in your sternum, which forces your knees down, which forces your tears like strings of a puppet. 

You don’t want to cry, and you don’t want to believe this is real. His room is next to your parents’, for God’s sake. He could’ve spied from his own window and seen you perfectly fine. Without any obstacles, without causing any of these nagging difficulties. 

“He’s gone. The lights are off.” 

There’s no relief from his words. There’s nothing that could alleviate you from what you saw. And you don’t hold back. You tell Jeongguk of the horrible picture as he continues to hold you to him, his fingers sinking deeper into your scalp. 

“He never goes to my parents’ bedroom. He keeps the door locked and he allows me inside just to clean because I begged him to. What is this? He decided that we would never go there.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything for a while. He merely breathes with you, his chest lifting and falling while he contemplates the information. His heart is dead silent—just like the room. 

Or so you thought. 

“I don’t think you should trust anything he says,” he utters, at last, withdrawing you from his chest to glimpse into your eyes. Dark, dark those pools are. No stars in sight. “Fuck his stupid rules.” 

You gasp for air, frustrated that this is your life, that it’s interwoven with those rules of his that you no longer respect. 

“I’ll have a cigarette just so he doesn’t think you were with me, but that’s the last time I’m abiding his fucked up rules and views. I want you to know that. This stops today.”

He’s right, and as he smokes his cigarette and you grip his vape in your fist, puffing from it simultaneously with him, the new decision begins to plunge down your body. This stops today, and the decision roots in your belly like a pebble in a creek once he stubs out his cigarette and gets on his bike, pulling out the sack of figs and cinnamon tea and handing it to you. 

This stops today, and the next time he takes you for a ride on his bike, he will park by your house for Yoongi to see.

Although, you don’t realize, not in your poisonously blossoming spite, that you won’t see Jeongguk anytime soon, and that he won’t hop on his bike for months. 

You don’t realize in the moment, as you’re waving Jeongguk goodbye while he drives off, that your efforts are everlastingly useless. 

And that is the curse your mother spoke over you when you were still a child with long, dripping wet hair. That is the demon that lives in the walls of your parents’ bedroom. 

Let out, freed, having been given permission by the breaking of spoken rules to ruin your life. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[thatshadowcomic]

Sonadow fan child mega dump

Still working on the ideas, still not 100% sold on a name... Im trying to picture Sonic and Shadow's playful banter on kids names, making fun of each other's suggestions.

Naming:

I originally thought Sky or Star or even "Terra" which is Earths name. You guys gave a lot of really good ideas, too, thank you so much!!Sunny is cute, too and Rouge calls Shadow "sunshine" a lot. Maybe something to do with water or planetary stuff, given Shadow would have looked out of the ARK with Maria a lot.

I even thought about "beauty and the beast", naming her bell relating to how Bell was "like maria" or rather, the concept of clarity bells and chimes and the sound/mysticism of bells in history as spiritually healing.

Plus it's funny to think of her being like Sonic and pulling a "DING! times up!" and destroying Eggman's future projects.

"Beauty and the beast?? Isnt Maria your sister--" "I won't entertain your crude humor. Bell accepted the beast for who he was, not what he was called or what he looked to be. Despite what she was told about him, she wanted to offer him a chance to be happy. A chance we all deserve... Regardless how it ends, the beauty of that story, at least to me, is not the romance, it's about love. Love isn't strictly romantic. She saw his heart and showed it to him, and he learned that the world might label you, but it's you who decides to accept or deny that label." "Heh, you should start a podcast-- call it stuck in a PODcast :)" "I hope she get's my humor." "And what humor is that?" "I can be very funny, Sonic. You're just... too slow." ":0"

Story one, the failed son:

He's created in the lab, hidden from GUN, but using their resources. Shadow's basically desperate because a child, to him, represents Sonic's immortality. Sonic will die one day, and Shadow fears what that means--but he also is living through the child. He wants a better version of himself, a "pure" one.

Doom's blood is removed, but several embryos fail completely. He finds a new "stabilizer" in the way of a chaos emerald shard, which Sonic would have never allowed, had he known. I think at some point Shadow would become as obsessed as Gerald, which causes Sonic to back off a bit...

Basically this creates a chain reaction:

Shadow abandons the kid with Sonic, after Sonic learns about the shard and warns Shadow that this could be a disaster. Shadow hides on the ARK, fearful that one day he will be the only one strong enough to destroy/stop his child, should he lose control to the Chaos energy coursing through him. Using the power only harms him, but really, it's turning him into a uncontrollable vessel of chaos, like biolizard.

Somehow Shadow hopes that losing any attachment to the kid will allow his destruction to be easier, but to Sonic, he gave up, accepting the kid as doomed. Sonic resents this deeply, even if he doesnt outright say it...He wonders if Shadow could have helped him manage his powers.

Ultimate power:

In reality, the child's need for validation is the very reason he would lose control in the first place, desperate to control his powers. Sonic would try to convince him he can just be his normal self, not to use the powers, as they damage him each time. But the kid eventually loses it and tries to draw shadow out of the ARK by destroying everything he can, until Shadow can see him from space.

"You love this planet more than me... Then defend it, coward--"

Damn, the fight scene would be awful-- I picture him warping in and just decking the kid, how heart wrenching. I'm sure Sonic would be stuck between, unsure what to do. I'm not sure how it ends?

Myabe they remove the emerald and he dies? or he becomes goop like Chaos? maybe a chao egg is left behind, which might hint at something bigger within Shadow himself??

Idea two, Birth:

Basically, Shadow's body evolves to grow an egg, maybe a normal Blackarm's thing that happens from time to time, maybe something to do with some Blackarms leftover idk, but point is he ends up hiding and pretending to be at GUN or on missions until finally Sonic tries to track him down and finds him laying in some forest, in labor. Technically this is Mpreg, but visually they look the same.

He reassures him, but Shadow can't understand why sonic isn't horrified.

"What do you want me to do, call you a freak and leave? I'm sure all mobians are freakish to humans, just like humans are freakish to mobians-- Hey, my little brother has two tails with a messed up joint that lets him fly! And your dad turned into a giant demonic root ball, even that comet was made of living goop all glued together, Shadow--laying an egg is the least of your worries!"

He jokes that he can have a melt down about the pregnancy being hidden later on, instead he'd rather focus on helping him. He has 3 small eggs but one begins to grow roots like the Blackarms and it takes over the other two, only making Shadow more distressed.

He wonders about taking it to the ARK, working with the commnader until they can determine that it's safe, but Sonic jokes, "You can try, but you know I won't let you take 'em, hehehe" But Shadow can feel the serious threat underlying. He doesn't want it to be treated like a monster either and wonders what the best course of action is.

"Do you really think humanity will accept this child if it looks anything like the Blackarms? If I looked any more like them?"

Story elements:

A lot of this story would be focused on Shadow's gradually rising tension as the egg grows, while sonic seems to be in a weird state of normalcy, but also struggling to actually comfort Shadow.

"Yknow, knuckles was born in an egg." "Sonic... we have no idea what's inside of this... I wasn't suppose to be fertile, let alone this! This sint a joke, sonic! What twisted creature could come from this-- what if this is just another facet of Doom's plan?! I already lost control of my mind, now I don't even have control over my body?!" Maybe Shadow and the commander already talked. He'd want to know why Shadow's suddenly requesting so much time off, only for the professor and Shadow to reveal everything. To their shock, the commander would support shadow... "Maria was like a sister to both of us... I think in her eyes... this might be my niece or nephew." The words make shadow tense, he wasn't prepared for this conversation, let alone the commander's unusual response. "You know I hate failing, Shadow-- Ive already failed her enough. I won't fail anymore. *Ahem* I expect a full report, given you've already met my grandchild..."

Remember, the commander offered shadow to come see his grandchildren in shadow the hedgehog (2004), so I'd like to think he's trying really hard to be better.

Really feeling this scheme

Guys can you help me with sonadow baby names

I have no idea what to say, but I want it to feel meaningful to Shadow, but maybe they have a real name and a "cool" name, like Sonic, Tails, y'know?

Might go with a girl? I just wanna make one to know what that looks like.

Thinking Navy. Maybe Ashen color. I think there'll start Ashen purple, later becoming darker, indigo-navy color, possibly stripes but idk, they would still have Blackarms DNA

[cutehoons02]

♡ would enhypen call you as your bf or as you would call it♡

*synopsis: (reaction) what the enhypen members call you or what you call them to make fun of them

༄07T༄

© cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

(English is not my native language)

—REBLOG if you enjoyed

Jay (Amore mio)

Jay loved everything about the world of Italy, from fashion, good food, delicious vastness of fine wines that could be discovered and tasted in the wonderful Italian regions, to historical and artistic beauties that could be found in northern Italy, the center and south, and the merry approach that the fans had. After being in Italy for almost a week he had come across a couple at dawn in a delicious cafe and heard his beloved husband calling his beloved wife "Amore mio", he had written it on his phone and after the 11 hours of the plane ride he had it in his mind and how it sounded with his Korean and American accent, but to him, it sounded divinely and sweetly, he was looking forward to going home, to see you and say those words whispered in your ear because Jay was the representation of the prince charming who wrote himself countless gnomes to give you but "Amore mio" had become his nickname for him because you were seriously his love from the first day he saw you. After taking a shower to chase away the fatigue of those 11 hours of plane was super exciting to tell you that words, you were preparing pasta with sauce and you were turned to taste the delicious sauce that you had prepared for your boyfriend, you allowed him to approach slowly and felt your arms wrap around your back and then the waist and a light kiss at the top of your lobe in your ear. "You’re so beautiful, amore mio" when you heard those words a slight redness crept into your cheeks and your sunflower to find yourself a Jay with the hair slightly glued to the forehead for the heat of the shower and with the reddened cheeks that looked at you with eyes of true lover.

Jake (Teddy bear)

The sunset was now leaving light shades of pink and orange in the sky above Jeju beach, you were embraced by Jake’s strong arms and his chest, the wind was beginning to rise and a light breezy breeze cradled your two bodies sitting in a sheet to admire the sun that was setting and the boats that were returning to the port. You looked at your boy and marveled by the light reflection that he was coming between his face and with one hand you took a tuft of it from his forehead, he was always wonderful but you loved spending days like these where he seemed to be a guy with his joys and worries for his future; You felt his warm hand go under your sweatshirt and form light circles behind your back and you cuddled even more to him. " You know i love you Y/n" You watched with a laugh Jake "I love you too, teddy bear" You saw him look up and say, "Oh my god how many times i told you not to call me teddy bear, you want by chance the war y/n!" Jake pushed you slightly into the towel and some hands went to make you suntan between your hips " Jake we all know that you are a cuckold teddy with all". You raised your arms slightly and took his face with your little hands and began to kiss him first the forehead, the cheeks and then your lips slightly cracked were put in his in a light kiss, you felt his hands no longer make you sunny but they put on your jacket to support and looked at you laughing "Maybe you’re right i love being your favorite cuddly puppy!"

Sunghoon (Angel)

Sunghoon did not believe much in fate, he was a very pragmatic person and if something had to happen it should be him who made it happen, not someone on whom people wanted to meet or create situations. Sunghoon was a cold person at first impact with people, had to study them and every conversation he had at the beginning with someone he did not know had been carefully He did not want to be cynical or difficult with people but also not too friendly because it was not in his nature. A day break from the hectic world of Kpop events had taken place at night in his now former favorite place when he was little but which he had begun to hate during his teenage years, the ice rink in Seoul had always been the same as before but when he went there to train it was him that people looked at and admired but now things were reversed, you his angel down to earth that for 6 months now had carob with your elegance but also with your sarcastic ways of teasing him that you were better than him skating. He knew of your existence from high school when he first saw you at the age of 14 but had never had the rush to talk to you only to admire you from afar. When he left the world of skating for K-pop he did not expect you to recognize him because you were the ice star already a teenager and now you were in the prime of your career as a skater. Hoon slipped into the ice careful not to be heard by you that you had headphones in your ears to memorize the steps and he girded your hips and made you spin in front of him, you had half-waved hair in your tail and cheeks reddened from the cold but for him you were perfect at that moment, "Hello Angel, look who came to see you at almost midnight" looked at Hoon with a twinkle in his eyes and opened his jacket to rest your head in his chest and slightly warm up from his body. " You could have told me that you would come to see me so i would have prepared myself slightly and thought that i had some curfew to respect" A slight redness crept into the cheeks of Hoon and squeezed you harder "Angel you’re always beautiful to me and maybe i snuck out of my dorm room to corrupt Niki!" You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him "Oh my god i’m creating a little bad boy if your fans found out what they would think of the most vampire-human i’ve ever met in my life!" Hoon took your hand and you started skating slowly attached to give you warmth "Well it would be worth it because i would spend hours watching Angel in secret at any time of day or night".

Sunoo (Baby)

Sunoo was everything to you, your boyfriend, your lifeline, your best friend, and your favorite listener. You were lying in your comfortable bed with painful cramps in the belly because of the cycle and at the same time you were bored because there was nothing that took your curiosity on Netflix, you had written to Sunoo half an hour ago if he wanted to come and visit you just to spend an hour together to cuddle you and eat some snacks but he hadn’t answered yet and maybe he was training or recording something even though he was a boring Sunday afternoon and out even if it was only 16 he was already doing oxen. You heard your friends with whom you shared the apartment laugh and after a few seconds, you felt the door of your room open with her blonde hair your boyfriend entered cold from the harsh temperatures of Seoul, and in his hand had a glass of hot chocolate, snacks, and a small heated panty holder to make you put it where you were most uncomfortable and to relieve even that little menstrual pain. " Hi baby, i’m sorry if i didn’t answer you but when you told me if we could meet because you were bored and because you were sick i had the perfect excuse to get out of that chaos of the dorm with which i share with those human monsters!" a light laugh came out of your lips and opened your arms and you clung to him as koala to the lower part of his life "I missed you so much, I don't know if it is the hormones ball but i seriously need cuddles especially if they are yours Sunoo" a slight blush invaded the cheeks of Sunoo, you were quite introverted with everyone but when you were with Sunoo you became a different person and was proud to have only him this power. "Come here baby, i missed you too and in this week of hard work, i rarely had a moment to relax" Sunoo lay down in your bed and you cuddler to his chest and smelled his favorite sweet scent of Lush, "I’m so lucky to have you by my side Sunoo", "Woo but where does all this little sweetness come from? the cycle i know cannot last you a few days longer because you are so sweet to me only in your red days!"

Heeseung (Rameonlover)

One thing you loved about Heeseung was the more introverted and nerdy part he had with you in your relationship, you loved to see him turn into a hot guy when he was on stage, while dancing while singing, While he was flirting with the fans but then with you he was super sweet but sexy at the same time. You watched him use his big hands in the joystick of the play and while he grumbled if he could not defeat some monster, “do you want a picture of me Y/n? You’re losing the drool right here from your beautiful little mouth" You slapped him gently on the arm while he gently touched the bottom of your lip "Stop rameonlover know that I find you extremely attractive while playing at play" You saw him stretch and lift his eyes, you knew he had it in for you because your eyes were immediately set where you could see his perfect muscles "Do you find me attractive only while i play or even when i prepare the ramen, while Ii kiss your neck with my hair unkempt, while you come to spy on me while i dance with the muscles of my arms in plain sight or while i’m standing over you?" You hated him with all your heart because from the first day I saw him Hee made you taste those famous butterflies in your stomach and when he was in your range you always watched him, "Rameonlover lowers your ego a little bit because these things can be done by all the guys in this world and who knows maybe some are more attractive than you!"; Hee when I felt this phrase took you for life and with a little scream from your part put you in his legs and looked at you with his famous pout "Don’t try to make me jealous because you’re my y/n" felt his meaty lips give you small kisses on the neck and pulled his hair "Rameonlover please" Heeseung pinched your side and look at you with questioning "Stop bending me down Rameonlover even in these moments, i’m Heeseung or Hee to you, not that stupid nickname that he gave me Jake!”

Niki (Mochi)

Being the girlfriend of the youngest member of the group was fun because each member teased Niki but at the same time all members controlled you and this made her happy but when they became too protective or insistent in knowing what you were doing or with Who you saw outside of them was not good enough for you. You were sitting in the studio of Hybe watching your boyfriend Niki try to record new music, I saw it from the big mirror that hoped for the studio and you were really happy with all the success that was receiving. You felt the door open and a guy you had never seen sat next to you, sure was another idol but honestly you did not follow other idols or groups beyond Enhypen. "Are you a friend of Niki’s or his sister? Yes, he has two sisters but you don’t look very alike" look a little uncomfortable the boy because you are slightly shy with strangers especially with males "Uh no I’m Niki’s girlfriend" the guy in front of you looked at you with a look of surprise "are you kidding right? Niki never told us that he had a girlfriend, sure of wanting to be with the smallest of the group I think you deserve better" looked badly the guy in front of you "honestly who do you think you are to tell me something like this? I love my boyfriend and I sure don’t need anyone else" your shyness faded when you heard this phrase and Niki, Jungwon, and Hee heard you across the room and Niki felt a sense of admiration towards you and love for defending your relationship. She left the room and stood by your side "I never saw you so angry with a boy, what happened to the shy girl I know!" You felt your cheeks turn slightly red both for the initial embarrassment and also for the nickname he used, he only used it when you were alone to make fun instead of two other companions having heard it. “Did you hear what he called it? Mochi, oh my god we just lost it for this girl" Jungwon laughed and Hee hugged you both "Well I think we don’t have to worry about Y/ n anymore, she can do it herself even with the boys, that idol ran away when she saw you angry."

Jungwon (Kitten)

Loved walking near the Han River in Seoul especially at night while seeing all the lights of the city lit up and the various bridges that splashed water and made colorful water games. Near the river, there were a lot of parks and each park had small shelters for animals, especially for cats, you were a team dog but since you were with Jungwon, you were pretty indecisive about the question "Do you prefer dogs or cats?". You had your hand in Jungwon’s pocket as you passed by the river bank until you heard a slight meow coming from the pig and looked at Jungwon, "Kittie you’ve always been a dog lover don’t tell me I’m making you change your mind with my cat look!" Jungwon was beautiful but one thing you loved most about him was his big, long expressive eyes and he looked like a cat. "You’re not the stupid one who made me passionate about cats but you know I’ve always been a cat lover" Jungwon pulled you across the street and you reached the little house that was in the middle of the park with cats inside all wrapped up to get warm. "Kitten you know we can’t take home more, we already have two, the world won’t go on only with cats or animals you have to make children!" Pushed slightly Jungwon and corsí across the park "I’m sure not going to have children with someone who calls me Kitten or with an obsession for strawberries and chocolate" Jungwon ran to you and took you lightly in his arms "Y/n would be good with our beautiful genes, they would come out with beautiful cat eyes and the beautiful character of my beautiful Kitten!"

[mochakissedgold]

Seeing the unfortunate news of the acolyte has me doing some deep rethinking of the relationship and years worth of investment I've put into the Star Wars brand as a fan. I'm seriously considering taking a step back from engaging and consuming any future movie or show content after tonight...

[dandyshucks]

me waking up at 6am this morning and immediately having the thought "maybe Guz still gets angry a lot because strong emotions are difficult if not impossible to control esp if its rooted in abuse trauma BUT he learns how to apologize, and thus - especially in the beginning - he would lash out as an automatic response but quickly realize what he's doing and apologize for it and we'd move on and be okay" like it had been beamed into my brain from some divine source.

also junebug (waves. thats literally just me.) would have to do their own hard work to learn to not automatically fawn when someone starts seeming the littlest bit potentially displeased or unhappy (because that is unhealthy for all parties involved). they'd BOTH be putting in the work to make it work !!!!!! 🎉

[beloveds-embrace]

Idgaf abt how military works sorry yall but imagine the 141 gang having to do mandatory charity and no, not even Ghost can opt out of it regardless of how he says he’s honest to god not fucking fit to be visiting sick patients. But alas.

But they end up meeting you- frail, fragile, and sick you, no visitors around you. Though you look at them with curiosity and admiration, you keep yourself away, almost as if you don’t want to bother them.

You can’t help looking at them, though. You’ve been sick all your life- born to a mother who left you on the doorsteps of an overcrowded orphanage, left alone often and long for your body to just… fail you. You don’t think you’ve seen outside the orphanage walls and then these hospital grounds since your birth. You would be dead now if it weren’t for the CEO of the hospital taking pity on you after you turned eighteen and the orphanage cleaned their hands off you.

And so, you can’t help but envy them just a little. Strong, agile people in the military, bodies fit and healthy. Despite knowing they are always putting themselves on the line, constantly in danger, you can’t help the longing you feel. Longing you don’t realize is clear as day in your eyes.

The one to approach you first is the man you thought one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He introduces himself as Kyle, and despite your silence- your interactions with others that are not doctors or nurses are far and few, and you are painfully shy- but he is nice. Gentle. Easily keeps the conversation going despite. He is so easy-going he has you grinning and laughing in no time. It catches the attention of a the Scot with a mohawk, who joins in by sharing even wilder stories. And then the man with the scary ghost mask, so often in their stories, comes to your little crowd. He is big, scary if the nurses’ reactions are anything to go by, and yet the only thing you’ve ever truly been afraid of is dying with a life not truly lived. So you don’t flinch or cower from him, merely ask if he has anything interesting to share with you.

The last you speak with is John Price. Captain John Price. If there is a man that can embody a bear, it has to be him. You are sure of it. Especially when you witness him smacking the back of Kyle’s head lightly after a teasing comment.

Maybe your chances of a long, fulfilling life are slim but today, just for today, you allow yourself to envision a life with them. Such a strange desire, a useless and wistful one.

“Thank you, for today.” You tell them quietly, when it’s nearing time to leave. Your hands are held in Kyle and Johnny’s, frail and weak compared to theirs. You smile at them, squeezing lightly. “I think this is the most happy and content I’ve been all my life. I won’t forget today.”

And in return? Neither will they. How could they ever forget you, the sweetheart in the hospital bed, your sickness keeping you away from the joyful life you deserve?

The won’t forget you. Not at all. And when you start receiving gifts, polaroids and letters and texts, you already know who is sending them to you.

It makes things just a little easier- your life just a little brighter.

Other works + help me choose a title for this!

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Summary: Things begin to develop in your new relationship with Simon, but luck is so rarely on your side.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,074

Warnings: Slight NSFW, suggestive content, kissing, dry humping, anguage, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, angst, a wee bit of horror at the beginning, also a lot of feet in this chapter (gross), oh yeah and did I mention ANGST

A/N: Please don't hate me

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

It’s far too quiet. You can hear the air blowing through the vents, the quiet hum of the fluorescents in the hallway. You push yourself up to sit, the blankets falling around your waist. It’s still dark out, the blurry time on your clock reading just past 2 AM. You’re not quite sure why you’re awake, aside from the eerie silence that has settled over the barracks. 

You push your blankets back, shivering as you leave the warm, cozy comfort of your nest. You shove your feet into your slippers to avoid the cold floor before standing, making your way slowly to your door. Something feels wrong, something feels off. You’re on guard, listening, waiting for a sign of whatever is causing such a reaction. 

The click of the lock on your door might as well have been a gunshot in the silence, the sound almost echoing. Any chance of stealth is out the window, so you’ll have to be prepared to run in case something happens, in case something is waiting for you on the other side of the door. How something or someone could have gotten in without the guys noticing is beyond you, but you suppose nothing is impossible. 

You crack the door open, peeking out through the gap, but you can’t see anything. No one’s moving around, no one’s waiting for you on the other side. The urge to hold your breath is strong as you step out of your room, the silence almost deafening. It’s too still, not even the sound of snores coming from the other rooms. The stillness is eerie, sending a violent shiver down your spine. 

You take a cautious step towards John’s room, moving on your tiptoes to avoid making any noise. You don’t really want to wake him two hours before he normally gets up, but you can’t stand the feeling crawling beneath your skin. Even if you just slip into bed beside him, it’ll make you feel safer in this ominous atmosphere that’s settled over the barracks. 

The sound of shuffling breaks the silence, making you freeze mid-step. Your breath catches in your lungs, muscles tensing as you pray it was just your imagination, or perhaps your own movements that disturbed the unearthly quiet. Time seems to still as you stand there frozen, your heart pulsing in your ears. 

The sound of shuffling unmistakably echoes in the air again. You don’t care how much noise you make as you take off running to John’s door, throwing it open in hopes it wakes him immediately before whatever it is that’s creeping around the barracks finds you. 

His bed is empty. 

It’s made up like he’d never slept in it, the sheets tucked in pristinely, and the comforter perfectly in place. He’s not in the bathroom either, the door cracked and the light turned off. You walk backwards out of his room, wondering if you had read the time wrong after all, or maybe if he’d just not gone to bed in the first place. You opt for Kyle’s room instead, hurrying to his door before opening it. 

His bed is empty too, made up just as perfectly as John’s. You’re beginning to panic, your heart thudding faster than it had been before. Your shaky hands fumble with Johnny’s door across the hall, his room empty and more organized than you’ve ever seen it. You even check Simon’s room, a place you’ve never seen, a place you’ve never been in, but it’s empty too. 

Simon’s clock tells you it’s too early for them to be up, too early for them to go to their training. They wouldn’t just leave you like that, would they? Not even a word or a goodbye? You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you stand in the middle of the hallway. Maybe there was an emergency. Did they say anything about doing training tonight? Maybe this is training, maybe they’re testing you and what you’ll do if they ever disappear. Maybe they want to know exactly what you experienced when they left you the first time. 

You turn as the shuffling sound gets louder, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you spot the figure standing at the end of the hallway. It’s dark, the lights at the end of the hall off. They’re never off, the lights in the barracks always on no matter what time it is. Tears sting your eyes as you stare at the shadowy figure at the end of the hall. You can’t see their face, you can’t tell who it is, but something in the back of your mind whispers that it’s not one of your packmates. There’s nothing familiar, no comforting warmth at the sight of them. 

Fear nearly blinds you as the figure begins moving down the hall, the lights going out one by one as he gets closer and closer. You’re hyperventilating, your brain screaming to run, but your legs are frozen. You’re alone and there’s nothing you can do. You’re alone and about to die, or worse, and no one will know. It could be days before anyone finds you. The thought of your pack returning to find your mangled body has a sob tearing from your chest, your scream dying on your lips as the darkness finally reaches you. 

You jolt awake with a gasp, your heart thudding violently in your chest. You’re shivering, not just from the terror still pulsing through you from the nightmare. The blankets are still pushed down to the end of the bed, leaving you naked and unprotected from the eternally cold barracks. 

There’s a heavy weight against your pelvis keeping you from shifting your position, or even sitting up. The aching in your hips and lower back is starting to register as your brain becomes more and more aware of reality. A glance downward reveals your legs are still tossed over Kyle’s shoulders, the position you’d been in before you fell asleep. Kyle is asleep too, his face squished against your pelvis as he snores quietly. 

A quick glance at the clock reveals it’s just past 2 AM, your breath catching in your throat. The dream had felt so real, the sensations, the feelings. You pinch yourself, the pain in your back and hips not enough to make you believe you really are awake and not stuck in some nightmare still. 

“Kyle,” You whisper quietly, trying to shift, but the hold he has around your thighs is stopping you. “Kyle.” You say a little louder, shaking him gently. 

He lets out a quiet grunt as he jerks awake, lifting his head from your pelvis. He smacks his lips, releasing one of your thighs to rub at his face. You immediately free that leg from his shoulder, groaning quietly as you straighten it out. The crack of your knee is loud, Kyle blinking blearily up at you as awareness slowly returns to his brain. 

“I think we fell asleep.” You say quietly, still shivering from the cold and the terror remaining from your nightmare. You’re tempted to reach out and squeeze Kyle, just to ensure he’s really real, really here with you. 

“Fuck,” He breathes, untangling himself from your body, pushing himself up onto his kees as you straighten out your other leg, sighing at the relief of finally being able to move and stretch your cramped body. 

He moves from between your thighs, giving you more room to move and readjust yourself into a more comfortable position. You push yourself up higher against the pillows, sighing at the ache in your lower back. 

“Pussy so good it knocked me out cold.” He grins, settling himself down next to you, his hand coming to rest on your stomach. “Fuck you’re freezing.” He frowns, finally noticing the subtle shivering of your body. 

He pulls the blankets up, tucking both of you in before wrapping himself around you like a koala. You turn onto your side, tucking yourself into his hold. He lets out a hiss as your feet touch his legs, his arms tightening around you. You press your cheek to his chest, listening to the quiet, steady beat of his heart. A shiver runs down your spine as the nightmare replays in your mind, feeling just as real as it did when you first woke up. 

You’re not entirely sure it didn’t happen. 

You know it couldn’t have. You woke up in the same position you fell asleep in, legs thrown over Kyle’s shoulders, his head between your thighs. He’d laid there, lazily lapping at your folds after making you cum three times until you both drifted off from exhaustion. It might have been embarrassing, had it not been for the time Johnny fell asleep still inside you moments after his orgasm. You had been stuck under him until he inevitably rolled away, starfishing himself as best he could across the small bed. 

“Kyle?” You whisper quietly, not wanting to wake him again if he’d already fallen back to sleep. 

He grunts softly, likely half asleep. 

“You wouldn’t leave me without telling me, right?” You ask, not sure if you’re going to get an intelligible answer in response. 

He shifts just slightly, his arms tightening around you. “Of course not.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll always tell you, love. Wouldn’t just disappear without letting you know first.” 

His words end in a yawn, but they offer a sense of comfort to you. You know you might not always have much notice ahead of time. Sometimes they don’t even get a lot of time between finding out about an assignment and when they have to leave. John had warned you about that, that they might have as little as an hour between. They’ll always make sure you know, though. They won’t just disappear into thin air without so much as a goodbye. 

It might be their last. 

You push that thought from your mind, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathe in Kyle’s scent, praying for your mind to go blank.

It’s like being around a wild animal. You’re not quite sure what to do. You’re afraid to move too quickly, to startle him. Despite the confession, despite your intimate moment on the couch in the rec room, you still feel like you’re dancing around him a bit. You’re not sure where the boundary lies now, what’s okay and what’s going too far. 

He sits closer to you now. On the days where you sit between him and Johnny at breakfast, you’ve been close enough to brush arms with him. He stares at you more now too, but less in the way one stares at an annoying fly buzzing around the room, and more in the way one stares at a painting or at the TV when they watch their favorite sports team. 

He walks slower now, side by side with you, close enough his hand brushes yours every so often. The thought has crossed your mind to reach out and take it just to see what he would do, but you’re not sure you could handle the rejection if he didn’t want it. You feel very much like you’re tiptoeing around him, afraid to push too far but unsure of where the line stands. 

You could just ask him, but you’re afraid he might laugh at you, that he might think you’re stupid for just not knowing. He’s so intune to you. You saw proof of that in the lingerie store, and how he always knows when you get uncomfortable in the mess. You wish you could read him like that, that you could be as intune to him as he is to you. It might be his training, his years of developing the skills to be attentive to every detail, every scent, every emotion. Or maybe that’s just him. After years of living the way he did growing up, you’d imagine he’d be good at knowing when someone is upset versus when they’re not. 

He could probably read you like an open book, and yet he’s like a locked safe in an armored vehicle. You’d sooner be able to see through concrete than you would be able to figure out Simon Riley. 

“You have to put your feet there?” The low timbre of his voice cuts through your thoughts and you look up at him from where you’re laying on the couch. 

He’s staring at you from his seat in the chair, book in hand. You’re laying on your back on the couch, your legs propped up over the arm with your feet right next to him. You could probably reach out and touch his shoulder with your toes if you tried.

“‘S comfy.” You say, going back to your own book. 

It’s quiet in the barracks, just the two of you occupying the rec room. John had taken Johnny and Kyle out to do some kind of training or something. You had only been half listening to Simon as he entered the rec room and joined you in the quiet space. 

“Well, they stink.” He says, pushing them away from his arm. 

“They do not stink.” You say, moving your book aside as you pull your foot towards your nose to smell it. “Liar. My feet are perfect.” You move it back over the arm of the couch, putting it closer to him than it was before. 

“Eh,” He stares at your feet for a moment. “I've seen better.”

You gawk at him, looking offended. “Who's?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Johnny’s.”

You pause for a moment, thinking back to all the times you've seen his feet. “You're right. He does have beautiful feet. How does he manage it?”

“He gets pedicures every few weeks.” Simon says, staring at his book. “Usually goes when we return from assignments too.” 

You gape at him. “And he's never invited me?” 

“Don't think he's gone since you got here.” Simon shrugs. “Kyle was the one to put him on it. They go together sometimes.”

You continue to stare at him, mouth hanging open in shock. You wouldn't have guessed it. Kyle, it made sense for him. He takes better care of his skin and body than even you do, but Johnny too? 

“He likes the massaging part. Says it makes his skin extra soft and smooth.” Simon shrugs. You can imagine Johnny trying to convince Simon to tag along, but the mental image of the giant, imposing alpha in a nail salon nearly makes you laugh. 

You shake your head, picking your book back up. “I mean, it makes sense, taking care of your feet. They're a vital part of your job.” 

“I think they're gross.” He admits, turning the page in his book. “Especially when they're so close to me.”

“Hey, my feet are clean.” You say, poking his arm. “I wash them every time I shower, thank you, and I change my socks every day.” 

He pushes your feet away from his arm, letting out a huff. “Keep your trotters away from me.”

“I was here first.” You say, moving them back close to his arm. 

“You're such a child.” He says, setting his book down.

“I am not-” The last word cuts off in a shriek as he suddenly grabs your foot, tickling the bottom of it. 

You giggle and shriek, trying to pry your foot from his hand, kicking out with the other. He catches both, tickling the bottoms of your feet. Your book drops as you twist and wiggle, tears gathering in your eyes from laughing. 

“Okay, okay!” You say, managing to pull away from him and sit up properly on the couch. “You win.”

You pick your book back up, curling up against the arm of the couch as you try and catch your breath. You know he's storing the fact you're ticklish away for later, and had you looked up, you would have seen the slight crinkle at the sides of his eyes indicating the smile hidden beneath his mask. 

“Something’s going on with those two.” 

“Yer right. It's odd.” Johnny says, leaning against the sink in the bathroom. “They're so...comfortable.”

“Not one tensed muscle or nervous glance.” Kyle says leaning against the wall. 

“She's sittin’ close tae him too.” Johnny says. “I think my plan worked.”

“The panties?” Kyle's brow raises. “There's no way a pair of panties changed things this much.”

“It's not just the skids. Tha’ was the push they needed.” He smirks. “They did the rest themselves.” 

“I can't believe it.” Kyle shakes his head. “What if it's just a fluke? She was there first and he chose to sit there by chance?” 

Johnny shakes his head. “Simon always sits in tha’ chair.” 

“What if she was too nervous to move after he sat there.” Kyle argues. 

“Well, there’s only one way to find out what they’re really feeling.” Johnny says, moving towards the door. 

Kyle follows him out of the bathroom and into the rec room. You don't look up as they enter, Simon barely glancing over the top of his book before going back to reading. Kyle and Johnny share a look before they join you on the couch, Johnny taking the seat next to you. 

“Have a good afternoon, kitten?” He asks, stretching his arm across the back of the couch behind you.

You nod, glancing up from your book. “Yeah, just been reading.

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, staring at you. “That all?” 

“Mhm.” You hum, continuing to read. “You can turn on the TV if you want.” You say, not even giving him the chance to ask the question. 

Johnny turns away from you, glancing at Kyle before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. Kyle shrugs, settling into the couch as Johnny flips through channels. You and Simon continue to read, your body curled up against the arm of the couch, closer to Simon despite Johnny’s arm still draped nearly across your shoulders. 

A small smile tugs at Johnny’s lips, a pleased aura nearly radiating off of him. Normally you would be sitting as far from Simon as you could, and you would have leaned into Johnny as soon as he sat next to you. Now you’re sitting as close as you can to Simon, and staying that way. Johnny’s not even upset by you unintentionally ignoring him. 

He’s just happy his plan worked. 

It’s not just existing around Simon that has changed since his confession and your moment in the rec room. Training has also changed. Things feel different, stranger between the two of you. Despite the partial lowering of the barrier, it feels as if there’s a thicker one between you. Is he dancing around you as much as you are dancing around him? Are both of you fumbling to find where the new barrier lies? The thought is comforting, that he might be struggling with this as much as you are. 

He avoids touching you as much as possible during training, only adjusting your stance when necessary. You haven’t done much on the floor either, instead his focus is on working on your kicks and punches again. 

He’s as stone-faced as usual, the tenseness back in his body as you throw punches at the bag. Your knuckles hurt and you’re quickly getting tired between the lack of sleep due to your nightly activities with the other members of your pack, your nightmares, and also the thousands of thoughts causing turmoil in your mind. You just want to know where you stand, you just want to know where that boundary lies. You just want him to talk to you. 

You’re tempted to throw a punch at him just to get him to do something.

You take a step back from the bag, taking a breath. You want to confront him, ask him every burning question in your mind in a place where it is less likely someone will walk in and see you or overhear. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand this, how much longer you can do this dance before you lose it. You need to know, you need to place that boundary somewhere so you can stop worrying. 

“You’re in your head again.” Simon says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “That’s going to get you hurt someday.” 

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to be in my head so much if you’d just talk to me.” You snap, starting to get frustrated. 

He shifts on his feet, his shoulders tensing just slightly. Your words and obvious frustration striking something within him. 

“I just...I need to know what we are...where we stand,” You continue. “I need to know what we’re doing, what’s okay. I feel like I’m just tiptoeing and dancing around you and I can’t stand it.”

He shifts on his feet again, staring at you blankly. You need him to say something, anything. It’s not often he’s been quiet, speechless when you’ve confronted him. You know you’ve put him in a place like you did in the rec room, cornered him in a vulnerable position. You also know that’s where he’s most uncomfortable. 

“I...I don’t know.” He says, obviously scrambling for words, for something to answer you with. 

“Well, it would be nice if you figured it out, because you’re stressing me out here.” You sigh exasperatedly. “I just...don’t want to make you uncomfortable or do something that’s going to ruin things.” 

“I don’t think you could do that.” He says, shifting on his feet again. 

You blink at him in surprise, not expecting that to be his answer. “I-I don’t-” 

All thought of moving or defending yourself is out the window as he moves, knocking your feet out from under you and sending you sprawling on your back. He’s on you instantly, pinning you against the floor. Your breath leaves your lungs as you suddenly find yourself face to face with him, close enough to see the shades of brown in his eyes. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been teasing me, torturing me? How badly I’ve wanted to touch, to feel, to get a taste for myself?” His face lowers towards yours, and you’re certain if he hadn’t been wearing the mask, you could have felt his breath on your lips. “Weeks I’ve been forced to sit and listen to you with the others, wishing it could be me, wishing I could have that with you without the risk of breaking you, of ruining everything.” 

“You’re not going to break me.” You say quietly, trying to reassure him like you did during your chat in the rec room. “I’m not made of glass.” 

“I can’t...I can’t risk ruining things for everyone.” He shakes his head, pulling back just slightly. 

“What makes you so sure you will? Have you even considered the fact that I want you too? I’ve been waiting for this for so long. Hell, I would be happy if you just wanted to be my friend. I’ve been trying so hard for weeks just for your approval. I never even thought...” You shake your head. “I never even thought you’d feel like this about me. I thought you hated me for so long.” 

He’s silent for a moment, staring down at you, his eyes searching yours. “I tried to. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t.” He lets out a long breath. “It’s not fair to either of us, it’s not fair to the rest of the pack if we keep doing this. It’s fucking us up, I’m fucking us up. I can’t focus anymore. I damn near killed Johnny when I caught your scent on him after you fucked him before training.” 

Your face warms at his words. Of course he’d smelled like you, of course they knew what he was up to. “Well, it’s more like he fucked me... It was his idea.” You shrug. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes darkening just a little. 

“You don’t have to hold back anymore.” You say. “I-I’m sorry I never noticed, I didn’t figure it out sooner.” 

“Wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs, leaning in close again. “My own damn fault for being so stubborn.” 

“You don’t have to be anymore.” You breathe. “It’s never too late to start.” 

You stare up at him as he hovers over you, chests brushing with every inhale. You’ve been this close before, been in this position before, but it’s never felt quite like this. The intensity between you is greater, not just a test of your will, of your strength when it comes to resisting an alpha’s imposing energy anymore. You don’t want to fight him, you’ve never wanted to fight him in this position. It makes sense now, every time he’s forced you out of that headspace during these moments hadn’t just been to keep you focused on training. 

He’s been holding himself back. 

“I won’t be gentle.” He says, his voice rumbling through you. His words are honest, spoken in truth. You can see it in his eyes, silently conveying the reality if you decide to continue. It’s a warning, a chance to turn back. He’s offering himself up raw and unfiltered. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to be.” You counter, eyes fluttering as you stare up at him. “I don’t need tenderness, someone to comfort me, to pick up the pieces. I’ll go to John if I need that. Maybe I just want you to be yourself.” 

A low growl rumbles in his chest at your words, his eyes darkening as he stares down into your shining ones. The back of your neck prickles as the energy shifts, the tension between the two of you coming to a head as the wall keeping the two of you apart begins to crumble. 

“I’m not made of glass.” You say, snaking an arm around his neck, his eyes dropping to where your teeth sink into your lip. “Maybe I want someone to be a little rough with me.” 

Another growl rumbles in his chest as he leans down even further. You automatically submit to him, tilting your head and bearing your throat to him as you’ve done so many times before in this position. He doesn’t stop you this time, doesn’t force you to turn away as he sinks down completely, pressing his face into the side of your neck. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent from the source for the first time since your arrival on base. 

His breath is warm through his mask as he exhales deeply, his body going lax as he practically squishes you into the mat. It’s not uncomfortable, the heavy weight of him a welcome sensation. It feels like a protective barrier against the world, a comfort knowing he’d keep you safe from any physical threat that might pose itself to you. 

That is the difference between the two alphas. John can keep you safe from the horrors in your mind, offer you a comfort only your alpha can as he eases your fear and anxiety. Simon offers a protection against the physical, not that John doesn’t as well, but it feels different between the two of them. John would stand between you and a gun, while Simon would run headfirst towards the person wielding it towards you without a second thought. 

Simon shifts just slightly, pulling away from you enough to reach up towards his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest for a moment at the thought of him taking it off, allowing you in enough to see his face. You’re nowhere near that close yet, you know that logically, but the idea excites you. 

He tugs his mask up over his nose before pressing back into your throat, his hand slipping under your back to press you tighter against him. A shiver runs down your spine as his skin presses against yours, warm and slightly sweaty from training. You don’t care as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent unfiltered. His exhale is warm and shaky against your skin, his lips slightly chapped as they brush the side of your neck. 

Something twists in your stomach as he drags his lips across your skin. Your hand lifts to cup the back of his head, pressing his face further into your neck. You don’t care if you suffocate him, and he doesn’t seem to care either as his body shifts just enough for him to press his thigh between yours. 

Your breath shudders as he mouths at your neck, his tongue dragging across your scent gland. Your hips push up against his thigh in response, the friction igniting a fire in your veins. A quiet moan slips through your lips as he drags his teeth across your scent gland, your hips pressing harder against his thigh. 

“Fuck.” He breathes against your skin, his hand dropping to grip your hip as you grind against his thigh, your body feeling electric from his touch. 

Your head is spinning, your entire body alight with energy as he finally lets go, as he finally loosens that hold he’s been throttling himself with. The sensation of him is nearly overwhelming. His touch, his scent, the knowledge that it’s him. You’d let him fuck you right here in the training room, right on this mat, if he wanted to. You’re already wet, soaking into your panties as you grind against his thigh, his muscles tensing under his sweatpants. You're certain there’s going to be a wet spot against the fabric, something that can’t be explained away by training. 

The thought of him finally wearing your scent thrills you. 

His hand holds your hip, guiding your movements as you work yourself up. It would be perfect, him giving you your first orgasm just like this. Fully clothed in the training room, the place where your relationship has been tested, where the boundaries have been pushed the most. 

Alas, you’re not so lucky. You’re never that lucky. 

Both of you freeze as his phone alarm begins to go off, signaling the end of training. It forces you both back into the real world, the electric feeling beginning to fade as the moment ends and the mood in the room shifts. Simon lets out a sigh against your throat, slowly releasing your body as he pushes himself up onto his knees. His eyes are still dark as he stares down at you, your face sweaty, hair sticking to your skin as you lay there on the mat, probably looking absolutely ruined already. 

You stare at his skin, the only part of him you’ve ever seen before. You’ve tried to imagine what he might look like, trying to piece together the rest of his face from what you’ve seen. 

“We’ll continue this later.” He rasps, tugging his mask back down before pushing himself up to go silence his phone. 

You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. You never thought it would feel like that, like straight energy coursing through you. He’d barely touched you and you could have cum from that alone had you been given a couple more minutes. His promise of continuing things later has a thrill running through you, a promise of this new relationship building between you. 

Simon walks you to the mess, your face still warm from what had happened in the training room. His arm snakes around your back, his hand on your hip as he leads you to the line, his fingers tightening their hold on you every time someone passes too close. They all stare at you, all giving you looks. You can only imagine the smell, imagine what’s going through their heads. 

They all know. They think you fucked him before coming to breakfast. 

It wouldn't be the first time you walked in smelling like sex and a member of your pack. It’s just the first time it’s been him.

Your pack eyes you both as you and Simon take your seats at the table, you sitting yourself between Simon and Johnny again. 

“Bit late today.” Kyle says, giving you both a look.

“Training ran long.” Simon says, pushing his mask back up over his mouth. Your scent flares a bit as you think about what those lips had felt like on your skin. 

John eyes you both, all of them obviously picking up on the change. “I’m sure it did. Did you have a good time?” 

“Would have been even better if we’d had a few more minutes.” You shrug, trying to hide your burning face in your porridge. 

“Your punctuality has finally worked against you, Simon.” John says. 

The alpha shrugs. “Didn’t want a grumpy, hungry omega on my hands.” 

“I’m not grumpy when I’m hungry.” You pout. All four pairs of eyes at the table turn to look at you. “Okay, maybe a little.” You admit, spooning a heaping mouthful of porridge into your mouth, hoping the topic of conversation at the table changes so you can cool off just a bit. 

Your face is still slightly warm as John walks you back to the barracks. He’s quiet as he leads you across the courtyard, and for a moment you’re worried he’s jealous, or perhaps upset that you’ve taken interest in another alpha besides him. He wouldn’t feel that way. Simon is part of the pack. It’s perfectly natural for you to feel a connection with him. It’s perfectly natural for you both to want to progress your relationship. Plenty of omegas take multiple alphas in a pack. Hell, many of them are claimed by more than just one. 

“I’m happy you and Simon have finally worked things out.” He says as you stop in front of your door. 

You turn to look up at him, a soft look in his eyes as he stares down at you. “About time, right?” 

He chuckles quietly. “Yes, Johnny and Kyle were going to lock you two in a closet soon if things didn’t start developing.” 

Your face warms again just a little. “Well, it is thanks to Johnny that we got here.” 

“Yes, the skull-print underwear.” John says, smirking slightly. Of course he knows about that. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut. He probably gave them all a detailed description of what happened at the lingerie store. “I much prefer those pink lacy ones myself.” 

Your brows lift as you stare up at him. “What, these ones?” You tug the waistband of your exercise pants down just enough to show the pink lace against your skin. 

A low growl leaves John’s lips as he stares down at them, his body crowding you against the door. “Yes, those ones exactly.” 

Your breathing quickens as you stare up at him, your underwear still uncomfortably damp from your little tryst in the training room that had forced Simon to leave you high and dry. How no one else had tried to approach the table from the smell of horny omega you had been projecting through the entire mess is a mystery to you. Then again, perhaps it was your pack that had kept you safe. The threat they posed was enough for all the alphas in the room to resist the scent of your slick leaking into your panties. 

You wonder how many of them got up to sniff the bench you sat on after you vacated the mess, pressing their faces against the plastic in an attempt to satiate the effect you had on all of them. How torturous it must be, knowing they’ll never have you. An omega right in front of them and their desperation, but they can only look, as the threat of dismemberment is not worth the risk of trying to touch. 

The thought has your stomach clenching, more slick dribbling out of you. 

“Got you all worked up, didn’t he?” John murmurs, pressing his face against your throat and inhaling. “Fuck, that’s a mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

The alarm on his watch begins to go off, and you half expect him to pull away, to leave you high and dry too, but instead he presses closer to you, his lips blazing a path up the side of your neck. 

“Don’t you have training?” You ask, your voice trembling as he nips at your jaw. 

“I’m in charge.” He says, pulling away to turn the alarm off before he grabs the waistband of your pants, tugging them down around your knees. “They can wait.” 

He spins you around, pinning your body against your door. You can feel him, hard in his cargo pants as he presses up against you, his breath hot against your ear. He drags his hips against your ass, the line of his cock brushing against the thin material of your panties. 

“I’ve got more important things to see to.” He growls, slipping his hand down the front of your body to cup your dripping pussy through the lacy pink panties. 

You should have known. You should have known things were too perfect, working out too well. Something always happens, something always ruins it. Something always comes between you, right as things begin to work themselves out, right as you begin to get comfortable. 

“I’m leaving.” 

You blink up at him, the words barely processing in your mind. “Huh?” 

“I’ve got orders, shipping out within the hour.” Simon says, almost too casually. 

It is casual to him, though. This is a normal event, part of his existence, part of his normal life. 

“The others?” You ask, the words trailing off but you don’t need to finish the question. 

“Just me.” He says, crossing the hall to open the door to his room. You follow, feeling like you’re wading through sand. 

It almost feels sacrilegious, getting a peek into his room, into his personal space like this. You’ve never seen inside, the few times you’ve walked by as he’s exiting, you’ve averted your gaze, almost afraid to try and look, to see inside his most vulnerable area. The space where he gets to be himself. 

Even now you find yourself looking away, turning your gaze down the hallway towards the door. The door he’s going to walk through and disappear for an unknown amount of time. 

“How long?” You ask, fighting the urge to look as he moves past the door. 

“Don’t know.” He answers, his voice slightly muffled as he stands behind the door, likely grabbing things out of his dresser. “However long it takes.” 

You swallow thickly. Of course this is happening now. Of course he’s leaving right when things are starting to happen between the two of you, right when you’ve started to get closer, when he’s starting to allow you in. What will happen when he returns? Will things go back to the way they were before, or will they continue as they are now? What if he changes his mind with some distance, with a chance to clear his head? 

What if he doesn’t come back? 

Your teary gaze snaps to him as he steps back out into the hall, closing his door behind him. You want to beg him not to go, drop to your knees and convince him to stay with you. He’d never do something like that. He’d never give up his job, no matter what you said, no matter what happened. He’ll always be a loyal soldier over everything. 

Even you. 

“I’ll be back,” He says, tossing his pack over his shoulder. “Then we can talk.” 

You stare up into his eyes, furiously blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “Okay.” The word is so small and broken sounding. You shouldn’t feel this way. He’s not even your alpha. 

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment, hesitating just briefly before he straightens up, heading down the hallway. You hold your breath as you watch him go, his figure blurring as the tears continue to well up. You should tell him, you should run after him and confess, confess to everything. You should hug him, hold him just one more time because you might never get a chance to again. 

Your shoes squeak as you race down the hall, throwing the door open. The rain bites at your skin as you run out into it, the weather a perfect metaphor for how you’re feeling inside. 

“Simon!” You shout his name, hoping he can hear you over the rain. 

He turns back around to face you, both of you standing there in the rain, staring at each other. It’s soaking through your clothes, your hair sticking to your face. You can barely see him, your eyes squinting from the water dripping into them. 

This would be the perfect moment, the scene when you run towards each other and collide in the middle in a passionate kiss that speaks of weeks of longing and desire finally being released. No matter how badly you want to run up to him and kiss him, you know you can’t. You want to shout at him, tell him you love him, that you don’t want him to go. You want to confess everything, let all the walls down and beg him to stay, to leave this life behind and run off with you somewhere safer, somewhere there’s no threat of him not coming back. 

You wish you could see his face, you wish you could read his thoughts, know exactly what he’s feeling right now. Does he feel the same, or are you a fly buzzing around him again? 

“Be careful,” You shout over the sound of the pouring rain, the things you want to say fading to the back of your mind. When he comes back, if he comes back, you’ll tell him. You’ll tell him everything. “And come home safe.” 

He stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Always.” 

You turn back to the barracks, your shoes crunching on the wet gravel. Your steps are slow, your body still feeling like it’s wading through sand. You turn back, looking over your shoulder one last time at his retreating form slowly disappearing into the heavy rainfall. 

Johnny is standing in the doorway as you turn back around, holding it open. You approach it slowly, feeling like the wet, miserable rat you probably resemble. You’re glad for the rain soaking through your clothes and your hair, glad for the droplets streaking down your skin  hiding the burning tears sliding down your cheeks. 

NEXT ->

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[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[cozage]

congratulations on reaching 2k 🫶💕

For the event, I was wondering if you could do option one with reader being hit on right in front of them? With shanks, Sanji, zoro and if possible Nami <3

Hehe I love your writing so much!!

Hii thank you! And thank you for the request :)

Characters: gn reader x Shanks, Sanji, Zoro, Nami Cw: creepy bar guys who can't take a hint Total word count: 730

Take a Hint

Shanks

Shanks’s reaction really depends on the kind of mood he’s in. 

Sometimes, you both go into a bar in a competitive mind, trying to see who can get more free drinks throughout the night. 

He enjoys watching guys trying to flirt with you. Plus, free booze is free booze. It’s funny how they never seem to ask if you’re there with someone before they buy you a round. 

But sometimes it really rubs him the wrong way (especially when he’s in the middle of a conversation with you and someone interrupts him to talk to you). 

He usually says some snarky comment like “If you’re going to buy one for my friend here, you should probably buy one for me, considering we’re together.”

He doesn’t ever start a fight, but he will finish them. And he will always take up for you if someone says something rude to you or tries to put their hands on you. 

Sanji

People rarely get the chance to try and flirt with you because Sanji is literally all over you 24/7. He wants everyone to know that he belongs to you. 

However, there are some brave (and foolish) souls that sometimes try while he’s got his back turned or he steps away from a moment. 

The moment he is back, he immediately steps between you and the man who’s trying to shoot his shot. “Is this guy bothering you?” he’ll ask.

He’ll turn back to the guy, his curly brows furrowed in anger. “Unless you want to get your ass kicked, buddy, you might want to move along.”

Afterward the flirter leaves, Sanji will fawn over you, asking if the man hurt you or did anything that made you uncomfortable. He won't relax until he knows for sure you’re okay. 

Zoro

Zoro knows you can handle yourself. And besides, it’s amusing to watch. 

He lets you handle the situation. Most of the guys take rejections pretty well, but there are a few stubborn ones who insist on buying you a drink even after you’ve turned them down. So you accept a drink.

When you accept, Zoro’s focus on you usually sharpens slightly. He watches carefully for any passes this guy might try to make on you. If you show even an ounce of discomfort, Zoro’s hand is resting on his blade, just in case. 

Your eyes meet his, and he’ll mouth “You okay?”. If yes, he’ll leave you be. But if it’s no, he’ll take action. 

He’ll position himself between you and the man, taking a nice long drink of the alcohol the guy bought you. Then he’ll plant a kiss firmly on your lips and smirk at you, ignoring the fussing happening from the other man. 

“Listen man,” he’ll say, resting his hand on his blade as he turns to him. “I think you need to learn what rejection is. So why don’t you just buzz off, and leave us alone to enjoy this fine alcohol?”

If it leads to a fight, that’s fine. Zoro has never minded fighting for your honor before. And he’s never lost a bar fight. 

Nami

Listen, Nami is no stranger to people flirting with her. And neither are you. 

Plus, free things are always better. Which is why you two set up a system. 

If a guy starts flirting with you and can’t take a hint, well, he’s basically just inviting in some unfortunate circumstances. 

So you let him buy you a drink. Maybe two, if you’re feeling crazy. You keep him distracted, telling him stories about your life. 

Of course he thinks you need saving by a big strong man or whatever he imagines he is. He has no clue you could knock him out in about 3 seconds flat. But you just smile and listen to his clearly made-up stories. 

Meanwhile, Nami is absolutely robbing him blind. It’s actually hilarious to watch. She starts out with his wallet, but she slowly gets more confident as he gets more drunk. She steals his necklace, watch, even his rings. She’s truly amazing at thievery; you can’t help but be in awe at her skill.

At the end of the night, he goes to pay his tab, and you and Nami quietly slip out together hand-in-hand, serenaded by the screams of panic from that dreadful man.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝

Summary: . . . you're drunk off your ass and your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, has to chase you down. that's it.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

“Eddddiiiiee,” you whined, trying to break out of the iron hold around your waist but no matter how much you pulled on your boyfriend’s arms, he wouldn’t release you.

  “Baaaaaby!” He mocked, arms tightening around you as he pulled your back to his chest, eyes searching through the crowd to see if Harrington had gathered the rest of your rag tag group of friends.

  The lot of you had been invited to a rager thrown by one of Argyle’s friends. You’d also neglected to mention to Eddie that you’d magically forgotten to eat more than a party sized bag of chips the entire day, so with three shots and a couple of strong mixed drinks in you, you were drunk. Very, sloppily, adorably drunk.

  Eddie followed you around when you became impatient with him, huffing and puffing anytime you saw him because you knew he’d prevent you from getting more drunk—sure enough, he’d swoop in and take away any bottle, cup or drink you’d get your hands on.

  He had made one crucial mistake though, having decided you were done for the night and with Robin throwing up a bright blue liquid—it was time to go. Eddie had had a twelve second conversation with Steve in which he would go and find Jonathan and Nancy, taking Robin with him.

  When Eddie turned back to you, you were hastily shoving something in your mouth, something small enough to be concealed between your fingers.

  “No, no, no!” He rushed over, taking your face in a hand and gently squeezing your cheeks to try to get you to open your mouth but it was too late, whatever pill it was, you had already swallowed, “Baby, what did you just put in your mouth?”

  You giggled, pleased to be causing him a little trouble and made kissy faces at him instead of answering. 

  He sighed, wrapping his arms around you while he glared at everyone else.

  Speed. Where the fuck did you even get it???

  And that’s how you found yourself imprisoned in his arms, patience once more dwindling due to the cotton candy haze of your mind and the energy filling your body. 

  Eddie could feel your jitters and chanced a glance down at your shoes to confirm they hadn’t magically transformed into a pair of sneakers you could run off in. He’d made it a rule you couldn’t wear a pair if you’d be drinking (yeah, this wasn’t the first time you’d try to flee from him, drunk off your ass, and no, you didn’t do it all the time), and he was relieved the pair of short heels were still in place.

  “Please, can you let me go?” You craned your neck back to pout up at him, eyes big as you peered at him from under your lashes.

  You were too fucking cute for your own good.

  The answer to your question was still no, he’d never let you go but you wouldn’t like that answer right now, so instead he said, “As soon as we’re home, sweet thing.”

  That was not the answer you wanted to hear, either, and you scowled, slouching back into him as you glared at nothing.

  Eddie was pleased when Steve, Nancy and Jonathan (carrying a passed out Robin over his shoulder) appeared in the crowd, making their way towards the pair of you.

  When they got close, Nancy tripped and Eddie dove forward to catch her before she could meet the ground.

  “Whoa, Wheeler!” He laughed as he helped her rise and steady, “Forgot how uncoordinated you are with some liquor in you.”

  “The sad thing is I’m not even that drunk,” She admitted, grateful she hadn’t been subjected to the stickiness of the floor.

  “Thanks Eddie,” Jonathan shifted Robin a little over his shoulder, trying not to touch her too much since she was prone to having physical reactions and he didn’t want to be punched in the face, “Can we leave now?”

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  Eddie turned back to you, ready to throw you over his shoulder if he needed to and his mouth dropped open, eyes widening when the spot you’d occupied, literally not even 10 inches away, was empty.

  Well, not completely. 

  The group looked down at the floor to see your heels left behind.

  Eddie’s head darted towards the front door just in time to see you escape out of it.

  “Oh, shit, not again!”

  Eddie swooped up your heels and ran after you, bashing into bodies on the way before he finally made it out of the doorway to see you sprinting across the lawn, your laughter ringing in the night air and he quickly gave chase.

  “BABY! BABY, STOP!”

  You didn’t stop, having the time of your life as the need to flee from him became more urgent. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just nice to feel like the main character having a little silly, goofy moment and you wouldn’t feel silly and goofy when your boyfriend would be having you drink a ton of water to flush the fun from your system!

  “No, I’m fast! Gotta go!” You called over your shoulder, still laughing as you met the asphalt of the street, lungs and legs doing a surprisingly good job at keeping you going and ahead of him.

  Eddie kept going too, though he felt the burn of it, chest already heaving but he feared where your drunk ass could possibly end up if he gave up and stopped.

  “BABY, I AM BEGGING YOU, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, STOP RUNNING!”

  He chased you down several streets, through lawns— apparently you were suddenly good at parkour, jumping over children’s toys and playsets he crashed into—and just when he was finally beginning to think you’d never stop, you started to slow.

  Not because you wanted to stop the game or anything, you’d just spent your time running away from your boyfriend thinking about how cute he was. And so sweet and good to you. You longed for him. He always took care of you—drunk or not—gave you tons of smooches, held you whenever you were near, went in search of you when you weren’t, peppered your face in kisses like Pepe Le Pew did to that cat he was always chasing around in the Looney Tunes cartoons and professing his love for you in a shitty French accent, and he always cuddled with you, giving you head scratchies while the two of you lay in bed.

  WAIT.

  You’d get cuddles, kisses and head scratchies tonight!!!!!

  You’d slowed in your thought process, and suddenly you’d gone from eager to get away from Eddie for no real reason, to desperate to be in his arms so you turned around and ran towards him.

  Eddie hadn’t been expecting that, the two of you collided, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.

  See??? You knew he’d hold you.

  “Gandalf the freaking Grey, baby, you are trouble and too damn fast,” he heaved out, arms tightening as he smashed you to his chest for a tight hug, the hand not clutching your heel straps cradling the back of your head. Eddie was relieved to have you safe in his arms again.

  “I’m fast as fuck, I’m a track star,” you chirped, nuzzling happily into the crook of his neck and making it hard for him to be even a little upset with you.

  “No you’re not and no more running,” You made a sound of surprise as he quite literally swept you off your feet and carried you back to the house party you fled from, bridal style.

  You didn’t fight him, keen on pressing kisses to his neck, pretty face and just about anywhere your lips could reach.

  Halfway there, you ran into Steve and Jonathan practically limping. Both were heaving and covered in sweat, the front of their shirts stained dark with it.

  “Oh, thank god! No more running. My side hurts, I think I popped something.” Steve said between gaps of panting.

  Jonathan couldn’t even speak, the poor guy looked like he was ready to collapse.

  “Where are the girls?”

  “On. Front. Lawn.” Jonathan finally wheezed out, they’d left Robin snoozing in Nancy’s lap on the lawn while they ran to help (but not really) Eddie catch you.

  When you were finally home, squeaky clean after a shared shower with Eddie—you still seemed to have enough energy for one due to your high, though the alcohol was making you a little sleepy—and you were in bed, curled into him with your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as his fingers massaged your scalp and nearly put you in a coma, he mumbled, “You little shit.”

  You giggled, eyes still shut as his chest shook beneath you with his own chuckles.

  “You still love me?”

  “Always,” Then, after a brief and comfortable silence, “Baby, you should’ve been on the track team.”

  “Mmm, I don’t really like running.”

  And again, “You little shit!”

[bywons]

YOU KEEP ME WARM ｡｡ stealing their hoodie

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───when you are warmer & cuter in his hoodie

𝑜𝑓 ܃ enhypen x f!r O886 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons bf!enha fluff ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 kissing, skinship ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 ) ｡

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა this one was so cute to write. a shorter hc, but i really hope you will like it, mwah baby, have a good day ^^ 💌

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG gasps as soon as he enters the living room to witness his red hoodie being stolen by his dearest lover, you. he approaches your dozing figure, catching you off guard ad he wraps his arms around you all too sudden, pulling you into a series of kisses on your lips. “caught you red handed, you really thought you could get away with stealing my hoodie?” he murmurs, his voice full of affection. you blink up at him, startled but quickly melting into his embrace. he leans back just enough to meet your eyes, still smiling, “you look way too good in my clothes,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “i might just let you keep it.”

PARK JONGSEONG his heart swells with warmth as he watches you, your figure bundled up in his oversized hoodie, the sleeves slightly covering your hands. the winter fair buzzes with life around you, but all he can focus on is how adorable you look, probably so warm in his clothes. “are you comfortable?” he asks, slowly rubbing the small of your back in a soothing manner, guiding you through the crowd. “always, with you,” you smile, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek which he quickly returns back to your forehead. giggling, he says, “i'm forever glad you're warm enough in my hoodie.”

SIM JAEYUN jake’s eyes light up as soon as he spots you across the street, wearing his favorite black hoodie. his grin widens as he jogs up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “you really know how to make anything look ten times cuter,” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. you giggle, leaning into his embrace as the two of you continue walking down the city street, hand in hand. “is it comfy?” Jake asks, giving your hand a little squeeze. “super comfy,” you reply, glancing at him with a playful smile. “i might never give it back.” jake chuckles softly, stopping in his tracks to press a quick kiss to your temple. “that's fine by me,” he murmurs, his voice warm with affection. “but don’t blame me if I steal it back when you’re not looking.” his eyes twinkle with mischief as you both continue your stroll.

PARK SUNGHOON freezes at the mesmerizing sight in the kitchen. his blue hoodie, loosely hugging your busy frame, making black coffee on the marble counter. you don't notice him at first, but when you do your heart skips a beat, as sunghoon slips his strong arms around around waist from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. “hey, that’s mine,” sunghoon sighs, trying to keep his voice steady, though the soft blush on his cheeks betrays him. you turn, smiling, “you’re right, but i think it looks better on me.” he finally gives in to your antics, and giggled in response, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “i can't lie, you look better in this.”

KIM SUNOO lets out an excited squeal the moment he sees you step out of your room wearing his pink hoodie. “oh my gosh, look at you!” he exclaims, rushing over to wrap you in a hug. you giggle, surprised by his reaction. “you’re the one who left it lying around,” you tease, but sunoo is too busy admiring how cute you look. “you’re literally the most adorable thing ever,” he says, his eyes shining with affection. he twirls you around, his smile never faltering. “you’re keeping that,” he says, not even giving you a chance to argue. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then adds with a playful grin, “we can even match next time.”

YANG JUNGWON spots you sitting by the window, wrapped in his gray hoodie, watching the rain pour down outside. he leans against the doorframe for a moment, just taking in how peaceful you look, the hoodie a bit too big on you but somehow perfect at the same time. “you look cozy,” jungwon sings, breaking the silence as he walks over. you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “i am, don't wanna take it off,” you reply, pulling the hoodie tighter around yourself. jungwon chuckles softly, reaching over to pull the hood over your head. “you’re adorable,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder as the rain continues to fall. “guess this hoodie’s mine now,” you tease, and jungwon just grins, wrapping an arm around you. “only if i get to share it with you.”

NISHIMURA RIKI walks into the game room to find you sitting in front of the TV, wearing his favorite hoodie. his eyes widens in surprise before a mischievous smile creeps onto his face. “hey, that’s my hoodie!” he says, dramatically pointing at you. you look over your shoulder, smirking, “not anymore.” riki laughs, walking over and sitting beside you. “well, you look way cooler in it than i ever did,” he admits, leaning back and resting his arm around your shoulders. you grin, leaning into him as you focus on the game. “it’s super comfy,” you say. he nods, pulling you closer. “i'm not even mad. but you owe me a game,” he teases, kissing the top of your head.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy / translate / upload on any other platform without my permission.

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[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut.

𝐀/𝐍: Part two.

Paradise. That's where he was, watching you tremble beneath him, crawling across the carpet in escape-no, in denial that you wouldn't be able to flee. His heart was pounding just as much as yours, that he could swear. Except his was beating out of pure excitement, while yours, certainly, was not for anything positive.

"Oh, princess..." He chuckled, watching your back finally press against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go. He crouched down, the tip of the knife tickling your cheek. He didn't plan to hurt you-not yet-but the threat still loomed.

It hadn't even been five minutes since he broke into your room, and you were already making him hard. He licked his lips, almost savoring your panic, and it was definitely a delight. Yes, he loved the pleasure of killing people, but seeing his little girlfriend scared? That was something else.

Unconsciously, lost in thought, he was caressing your lips with his thumb. You recoiled, almost feeling disgusted by his touch, which might have offended him a bit since that snapped him out of his daydream. It was a little habit he had with you, except from your perspective, it was a killer in front of you, not your lover, so your reaction was more than understandable.

The knife still against your skin, but with no pressure. "Kill me... what's wrong with you? Stop playing with me and just do what you came here to do already," you said.

He tilted his head to the side, an expression of disappointment hidden beneath the mask. He thought it was obvious he wasn't going to kill you. "Stop touching me!" you snarled. "I have a damn boyfriend."

Naïve of you to think that saying that would stop a killer. Though he did find your loyalty adorable, even in a situation like that.

You thought you were successfully distracting him long enough to call your boyfriend, since hiding your phone behind your back was easy with his contact on speed dial.

"Nuh uh," he said. "Not that, princess." He snatched the phone from your hands. Ghostface froze, the shock you displayed gave him an extra dose of dopamine. His eyes shifted from your hypnotizing look of horror to the screen. Not that he needed to read the contact to know who you were trying to call.

His own phone vibrating in his pocket made everything clear. He had a hard time holding back laughter when he realized he was receiving the call.

"He's not going to answer you, sweet thing." His voice came out taunting even with the voice modulator.

Your hand reached for his mask. If you were strong enough-which you certainly weren't-you could have easily torn it off. Noticing your fingers gripping the black fabric, Ghostface grabbed your wrist.

"He's stronger than you." Your voice came out in a near-tense whisper. "My boyfriend. Even if you kill me. He'll find you. He's smart and strong."

"Oh, is he going to kill me, princess?" Ghostface released your wrist and used his hand to squeeze your face, your lips forming a pout, and it took everything in you not to rip off his mask and kiss him. However, that feeling quickly faded when you kicked him between the legs.

Ghostface screamed in pain, his voice modifier barely able to mask his tone with how loud it was. It was your chance to escape, if it weren't for his free hand—the other one was comforting himself where he'd been hit—grabbing your ankle and causing you to fall hard. "You...!"

You struggled, but he easily pinned you to the ground, stomach down. For God's sake, he almost lost his mind; lucky for you, he wasn’t in the mood to stay single that night.

Even though it wasn't in his pre-defined plans—or even in his current ones—to kill you, he wasn’t going to let it slide. Yes, you were his girlfriend. Yes, you were terrified, and it was justifiable. And yes, he loved you. But every action has its consequence.

His gloved hand left his crotch and tangled in your hair, his fingers gripping tightly to stop any further rebellion from you. Not that there was much chance of that, given that his heavy body was pressing you firmly against the ground; now, there was no way out.

"Damn it, I was going to play nice, but you just had to pull something like that." The killer gave your hair a sharp tug, and then a small yelp escaped your lips as you received a smack on the butt. And hell, you didn’t know whether it was his strength or the leather glove, but one of them—or maybe both—made that cursed slap hurt.

You didn’t even know where his knife had gone with how fast things were happening, but from your point of view, it wouldn’t be long before he drove it into your stomach.

You felt his weight lift off your body, but there wasn’t much time to think about it, as Ghostface was already dragging you by the hair to the bed, where he sat down. He forced you to kneel, still holding onto your hair. For a moment, his fingers relaxed imperceptibly as you gazed at the empty black eyes of that mask with your adorable, tear-streaked face staring back at him.

[cutehoons02]

☆:I’m too clingy with you?*.☽

：(::̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) Hyung Line

* synopsis: (reaction) Do you think i'm too clingy with you?

© cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

(English is not my native language)

—REBLOG if you enjoyed

HEESEUNG

Heeseung was the classic representation of the boy in the ambivert version, he was extremely extroverted when he was with his friends especially when he had to talk to his fans but at the same time he liked to be alone playing video games in his room, he slept a lot when he had breaks and spent the evenings in the parks scattered around town playing basketball until late at night. You and Heeseung didn’t get along at first but nobody understood why because you had a lot in common about music, to preferred to go out late at night to feel more comfortable, you both loved to try countless restaurants scattered around Seoul, especially the most hidden ones and being an influencer you loved to be in the center of attention but at the same time you wanted to spend more hours with yourself and contact with nature without fans or events.

Heeseung met you at a Prada event and to her misfortune you were a close friend of T/l Jay’s girlfriend. From the first day he saw you, he didn’t like you because he thought you were like most of the rich influencers, brainless and with the desire to have fame thanks to the name of Enhypen but to his surprise, you had never mentioned the name of enhypen and every time you were with T/l you never brought up the subject. You knew that the boy with the eyes of a cervix didn’t like you from the way he looked at you, from the way he’d roll his eyes when he saw you making countless noises to their colleagues but you didn’t care about his judgment and you loved teasing him when you were close; for Heeseung you were a terrible threat because you were beautiful, you had that shy but sexy yet cheeky girl aura towards him and for the most part you teased him flirting with him.

This thing made him crazy because it was always him who flirted with girls at meets and great or events and never girls tried to hit on him so openly as you did with him, he thought most of the work and never had distractions, especially in girls but slowly he could not think about you and every time you posted an ig story on your profile especially with a guy wanted to throw the phone across the room; since he became jealous and possessive of you, when he hated you from the first moment he saw you?

In the last period he had managed to invent lies especially with Jay, because many times he dated you and his girlfriend and Jay realized that slowly the oldest of the group had begun to behave strangely and no more jokes about you, you also realized that Heeseung didn’t go out when you were there or when you were there he didn’t take care of you or was out of his mind.

When fate wanted to meet two people, they always put on and that night you were walking with your aimless headphones without purpose and to astonished there was Heeseung in a playground almost half an hour from his dorm playing to throw the ball into the basket alone. You always had a thing for sportsmen but Heeseung was always beautiful, especially in the last period: he had slightly long hair with purple shades, wore a shirt where you could see his strong arms, the suit pants that wrapped his long legs, and a baseball cap put back to hold the tufts of hair. You didn’t want to disturb him and you looked slightly from a distance for about ten minutes but then as if you were called by a mental and physical attraction you approached him and civilly greeted him without being brazen with him.

"How come you're playing at midnight past and almost half an hour from your dorm there are no basketball courts near where you live? Heeseung looked at you and he overtook you to throw the ball in the basket and with his dismay did not enter and snort "I wanted to change zone and then later it is better of the night, so i have less chance of finding fans crazy and to be able to relax playing basketball. I don't always have so much time to play basketball and it helps me a lot to relax and concentrate on my thoughts that lately don't make me sleep so easily" he glanced at you before running to reach the ball from the other end of the field and you followed him.

"Why can't you sleep? I just asked you that question because i know you have that super cool event tomorrow with that sports brand that organizes the events downtown with the fans and i know you'll have to wake up early" You tried to take the ball out in a clumsy move but Heeseung had really good reflexes and looked at you badly "God what do you want Y/n? You’re so sticky, you’re nosy you can’t go back to your world made of events every day and have no responsibility? You knew that Heeseung despised you but you didn’t think so much, it wasn’t true that you had no responsibility because most of the profits your agency made were thanks to you, and you were a little tired of being told that you did nothing from morning to night and that you had no responsibility

"I’ll leave you alone, i just wanted to have a civil conversation with you but it seems that every time you try to behave like a normal girl you despise me as if i had a rare disease from which you’d want to stay away."

You hated him with all your heart because every time you saw him, your heart was beating slightly faster, every time you heard a song in the convenience store you recognized his voice and started to smile like a girl at her first crush and maybe it was just that a stupid crush for one of the most famous idols. Little tears were running down your face and you hated yourself too because you had never cried for a boy in your life and he was so stupid that you tried every time to be nice to him if every time he did some silly or eye-lifting thing if you did that ig story in his presence.

"Y/n" you heard your name shouting and running Heeseung followed you on the path that led to a small hill where you could see all of Seoul "God why are you walking so fast? Compared to my legs you’re a gnome but you’re a fast sack" you kept walking without paying any attention and after minutes you felt yourself take an arm and Heeseung made you sit in a chair where there were only you and him, and the lights of the busy city under your feet "Fuck angel, i’m so sorry for how i behaved with you i’ve never behaved like that with anyone and..."

"You don’t need to make up all these excuses Hee, you don’t like me it can happen that two people don’t agree so maybe it’s better if i go home" You tried to get up but his strong hands took your hips and put his legs on you "Is so hard when you’re around Y/n, i acted like an asshole to you just because i like you, in the sense that it’s physically but also. Oh my god i have never declared myself to any girl so i'm blabbing in vain, i like you Y/N, at first i found you annoying and sticky with me because you were always trying to tease me but slowly i started feeling jealous when i saw your ig story with other guys, especially when you were so beautiful and smiling with them,i wanted that smile to be for me and not for those people."

"If this is all a joke Heeseung you’re recording for a stupid challenge i’ll kill you, because i like you too" In the last sentence you said in silence and Heeseung pretended not to hear it. "Angel for me this is not a game but i did not hear what you said last!" You rolled your eyes and put your slave in her chest and started playing with the strings of her sweatshirt "I said I like you too, Lee Heeseung" a soft whistle came out of Heeseung’s lips and you felt his lips give you a kiss in the head and then one in your cheek "I like you too,Y/n."

JAY

Jay had always been careful not to cross the line between an affectionate guy and that sticky one but when he did not see you for weeks because of his work as Idol went crazy and wanted to always have you close so he could touch you, kiss you, suck your body and have it all for yourself. None of the enhypen members expected this obsession of Jay for Y/n because it was not just a physical thing but he loved to see you smile when you cooked together dishes from parts of the world that you had not visited, loved watching you play with his black cat in the living room while he tried to play and compose songs in which you were the protagonist and loved seeing all your successes in the work field and was your first fan.

The enhypen members didn’t expect to see you at their dorm door because they had just returned from a mini tour in America and knowing your character you were quite shy and reserved and didn’t spend so much time in the dorm or Jay’s room, but Heeseung smiled at you and let you in their apartment shared "Jay didn’t tell me that you were coming to visit him" Jay and Heeseung knew each other for eight years had always been sure they could debut together but never would have expected to be part of Enhypen one of the most famous groups in the world of kpop.

"I just wanted to give them a little surprise, we haven’t seen each other for almost a month and then lately he’s been acting strange with me, i don’t understand if i did something or maybe he just got tired of me"

Heeseung was seriously impressed by Y/n’s words, Jay loved her so much but he also noticed that it was a little cold when they mentioned Y/n. They always made a lot of video calls and always bought some gifts for her or her family but on that last trip Jay in the evening had always almost always been with the other members and had made very few video calls from what Heeseung remembered and was strange but did not want to worry Y/n.

"Don't think at all about these things, he loves you so much even one day to marry and have a family with you. If he hasn’t called you so many times on these tours it’s because we were in America, the time zone is shit to absorb and then we were always tired and we practiced a lot also because soon comes out the new album"

Y/n listening to Heeseung’s words made her feel a little better, but he had a really bad feeling and wanted to kick him out right now and talk to the guy from Seattle.

Jay was packing his suitcase and in the background, he sang a song from Oasis one of his favorite bands, and the little hands that he would recognize between hundreds of hands stood before his eyes and a small laugh came out of his mouth, tried to turn around to see the deer-eyed girl but the body of Y/n held him tight.

"Jay, tell me the truth you’re mad at me? Did i do something you didn’t like?, Did i say something wrong about some favorite band of yours that i didn’t even know existed? Did i break some of your knives or something about your guitars?" When you were agitating you blathered a lot and also this thing loved Jay of you and turned to look at you. He wanted to hold you and press his lips into yours but in your head resonated the words that you had joked to Sunoo during a day of skating together.

"Sunoo i thought you or Jake were the most clingy of the group but i think my boyfriend is getting better at both of you, sometimes it’s so clingy that it doesn’t squeeze me so hard i can’t breathe." those words of yours had haunted him for days and he started to break away to give you some space.

"You did nothing wrong Y/n" A puff came out of your lips and you approached to hug him but he went into his walk-in closet your eyes were made clear but you didn’t want to cry at all before him, like a little puppy you followed him in his walk-in closet and to your surprise or perhaps your imagination his arms had become slightly bigger and even his hair had grown a little more and loved when he had silver hair because they did contrast with its honey-colored complexion, you missed him so much that you tried to put a hand on his chest but he carried your hands behind your back and a grin made its way into his gaze.

"Don’t tell me you missed all this Y/n, i thought i heard you say to Sunoo that i was too clingy with you, that i touched you too much, and that sometimes you couldn’t even breathe but at this moment it seems like you want all my attention on yourself but you’ve been a bitch to me because one thing i always told you is that you have to tell me about the things you don’t know like and those you love about me" You never thought that Jay had heard that conversation with Sunoo but you weren’t complaining at all you and he laughed at Jay because they had never seen him take so much for a girl both physically and mentally.

"I wasn’t complaining, in fact..." You tried to go on with the subject but felt Jay’s lips kiss your neck and then lick it off.

"Go ahead Y/n, if you don’t go ahead with the sentence i won’t give you what you want so much but at the same time you complain about having”

"I wasn’t complaining, but at first i was making a little fun of you because" you felt your cardigan unbutton and small bites made you groan, Jay began to kiss you and bite your skin from your navel to yours but the thing that gave you his nerves is that he held your hands tight and did not touch you with a single finger but only with his mouth and his tongue. " continues Y/n", i’m just curious to know what you told your best friend" little moans came out of your mouth and tried to take your hands off Jay’s grip but maybe it was better not to do it pissed.

"I was saying, i was making fun of you because Sunoo with me is a sticky bag but in a friend way, and every time you see me you always seem attracted to me and this thing i love, please Jay."

Jay wasn’t listening to you at all because he was upset about one of the nipples, he brought a hand to your side and with a small push made you lean on his desk and moved his video games.

"Princess, do you seriously dare to ask me for pleasure and make you enjoy but at the same time you’re telling me that you were making fun of me?" You couldn’t make any sense and he walked away from you until we kept talking "I like it when you’re clingy with me also because sometimes i’m clingy with you, i was just afraid that you’d get tired of me because you seldom answered my messages on tour and in 20 days we’ve heard in video call 2 times" you put your lips in the small butterfly/heart birthmark of Jay and kissed her and after a while, you started to suck his neck

"Fuck, y/n you are soaked here. Don’t ever try to say i’m too sticky with you because your body will never lie to me."

SUNGHOON

You and Hoon were the perfect representation of "grumpy x sunshine". Hoon was introverted and he felt comfortable with only a few people instead you loved to make friends with everyone and could talk even with the walls, he liked tranquility instead when there was a click were the first to involve people, he was winter you were summer, he was the moon and you were the sun but these two elements could not live without each other; you two were attracted by your different personalities but you were not yet ready to give yourself.

You and Hoon were not great friends but thanks to T/n the girlfriend of Jake, as well as your best friend, who invited you to countless concerts and dinners in the dormitory of enhypen together; you got along with everyone at first, Hoon had created a kind of wall between him and you, but with the countless outings and dinners that you did together and with your solace that wall slowly began to crumble, you thought you had found a balance with "ice prince" of the group also because it started to sit next to you when you were watching movies together, he was always the first to come and say goodbye when you went to see their concerts and had also bought your favorite cereals to keep them in the kitchen cupboard until one day you heard him talking with Jay.

"Today too must come Y/n to eat out with us at the restaurant? I’m seeing more of her than my family, lately is always clinging to me as if she’s doing it on purpose to get my attention!" When you heard these words coming out of Sunghoon’s mouth the world fell upon you because it was not true that you were always by his side, he was the one who slowly approached you and luckily you started to have feelings for him and stupidly who could not have feelings for him. Over time you found countless excuses not to meet the enhypen especially Sunghoon and this thing did not pass unnoticed by the group but especially by Hoon.

Outside it was raining lightly and you were warm under your blankets and you were enjoying a relaxing evening with yourself, a couple of snacks, and in the background Netflix until you heard the phone ring to your great surprise Sunghoon was calling you, had never called you and had wrong number because it was since weeks that you did not see him. After a few minutes, another call came from Sunghoon and with the heart saying to answer and with the head telling you not to watch it you accepted the call "Y/n, think i’m down at your house but i don’t know what floor you live on and wanted..." You answered the call and rushed with an umbrella in hand out into the street of your apartment and before you was a half-wet Sunghoon with hair and locks falling moist before his eyes.

“What are you doing here, Sunghoon? , it’s 11 p.m. and you’re soaked from head to toe, i wouldn’t want to hear words if you got a fever or a cold because of me you should be at your house" You opened the umbrella and Hoon came to you, and with your astonishment, a hand caressed your face and was extremely hot under your skin and some light shivers crossed your bodies and they were not shivers of cold but shivers of electrified sensations never felt by either. “It would be worth it if you took the fever because of your Y/ n, why you have not come to us no more seems that you are avoiding us as the plague but in particular you are avoiding me, as at this moment you are not looking into my eyes and do not understand the reason, where did the Y/n that i knew until a couple of weeks ago go?" “I’m not avoiding you, lately i've been busy and i realized that i spent a lot of time with you and honestly didn’t want to become too much for you" You didn’t have the rush to tell Sunghoon that you had heard those words and at that moment you just wanted to go back to your room. “Bullshit Y/n, have you been hanging out with Jake, his girlfriend for weeks, and last weekend you even went with Sunoo and Jungwon to your favorite singer’s concert because you don’t write me anymore or come talk to me like before?" You were seriously tired of Sunghoon before he said that you were too clingy with him and then he wanted to see you

"Stop Sunghoon i heard you tell Jay that i was too sticky and you didn’t want me to dinner with you, if you didn’t like me just tell me from the beginning instead the closer you got to me i thought you liked it, but i was wrong" You didn’t want to let him take the rain but you were tired of your feelings for him and tried to leave but a hot grip stopped your pulse and after a few seconds you felt his lips crash into yours, they were slightly rough because of the cold but shivers burst through it and without thinking you dropped your umbrella and stood on tiptoe to draw him closer to you. At that moment it was only you and the boy with the heart of ice but that in the bottom was not so much of ice because he had begun to melt slowly every time you spent time together.

JAKE

Jake loved physical contact with anyone he knew and at the same time loved to receive hugs, cuddles, and body kisses from you. He was always the first to touch you, he was the one to take your hand and put it glued to his inside his jacket pocket so that you do not feel cold, he was the one who hugged you like a koala when you had to go to college and he was the one who fell asleep in your chest or loved to rest his head and his hair that tickled your neck during a break of Netflix & Chill lying on the couch or in your rooms.

You and Jake were lying in bed in your room watching one of your favorite movies, and to your great surprise Jake wasn’t hugging you or like every time you watched a movie he would put his head in your breasts and hold you tight with his big hands, you thought he was just tired and then you started to give him some glances and to your dismay, he seemed only focused on the film and not on you.

After a while, you started to get closer and closer until you put your body next to his and made your legs intertwine in his but even that gesture did not seem to attract his attention of Jake, but his serious expression began to crumble when he felt your hands slightly cold go under his sweatshirt and hug him as he did when you were lying in bed.

"Jakey, Jakey why aren’t you hugging me or what do you know about being near me? We all know you are weak in touching me but especially to hug me when we are lying down or sitting!" You slightly pushed the boy with the Australian accent and a slight laugh came out of your lips when you saw him fix his hair, you knew that he only did it on two occasions when he was embarrassed about something or when he was pissed.

"Maybe you’d rather be hugged by that stupid seal who gave you your enhypen bias and we all know it’s not me, or i'm too clingy with you complaining to your friends."

You couldn’t believe he was jealous of a seal that had won Heeseung while you were all together in an arcade but Jake was also not jealous when he saw you talking to a boy because he knew you loved him and that you were his, but he hated that seal only because he thought he had more time than him to be with you.

"When i have ever complained that you were too clingy with me?" a flash of frustration formed on Jake’s face and after a few seconds he took you by the hips and put his legs over you.

"Angel i know sometimes i can be too clingy towards you and maybe even protective but if something you don’t like just tell me and we can discuss it together, i didn’t want to listen to your call with your friends but i heard you were talking about guys and i was also flattered by certain things that you said about me like the one in which you boasted where i learned some sentences alone of your language and that i managed to speak Spanish in a bar, but then i heard that i was too clingy towards you and i felt stupid because all the members told me that i was always clingy to you when i saw you." You shook hands with Jake’s and for a moment it seemed to see a Jake hurt because of you but it wasn’t exactly like that

"Did you stay until the end of my call with my friends? because i admit that i said you are very sticky with me but that is an aspect of our relationship that i love because we both know that at first, i was shy towards you but also slightly cold with physical contact. You have helped me a lot to open up both in character and also in physical fact because now i embrace my friends and family much more" Jake’s cheeks turned slightly red and he squeezed you to himself and a light kiss leaned into your forehead and then in your hair.

"I’m foolish not to have listened to your conversation because i am delighted that i helped you with my ways to open yourself up to people and make you feel more comfortable with people, i love you Y/n but now can i go back to hugging you and holding you to me?" a light laugh came out of your mouths.

"Of course, you can embrace me and always be yourself with me because i fell in love with you for the person you are with your strengths and weaknesses".

[bonesandchalamet]

you can’t catch me now — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: when you want the plinth prize, and so does he, you’ll do anything in your power to make sure snow doesn’t land on top.

warnings: slightly unedited/ minor grammatical errors + snow isn’t that much of an asshole + minor tension between characters + no graphic details of death + SPOILERS TO THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES!

a/n: typically don’t like to write for villains… but that movie has been on my mind since I saw it 😅

when the plinth prize had a minor change in plans the only person you could look towards was him. snow. he had to have an idea, but by the reaction that took place, the way he shifted in his seat, he’d have had no clue. this must have been some sick joke. but the hunger games was all about discipline and viewers, it’s no shock the plinth prize money stakes were upped.

you’d have risen to the top and fought coriolanus snow every moment you could. academics were easy, but this? mentoring someone to win a game? this was a true test.

leaving the capital, leaves crunch beneath your feet as your pace quickens. how was this fair? to throw children in an arena to fight for their lives, that was one unfair choice the capital made, but this? was a cruel punishment.

you can hear his feet against the pavement. his pace was always rather faster than yours, which is why you’re surprised he hadn’t caught up to you now. you’d had booked it out the capital the second you were dismissed, but the dread of the next few days still lingered the air like bad perfume.

“y/n, y/n—“

“corio,” you finally snap. turning on your heel to face him, he stops. the air in his lungs catches when he sees the tears against your blush colored cheeks. you held your fight for the rights of the district close to your chest, similarly to sejanus; but you’d only ever been the one to push snow to the limits and make him fight back. tomorrow, your tribute could die and Coriolanus would win once again. it wasn’t fair how snow seemed to always win.

“you think I’m happy about this?” his question takes you by surprise. nobody was happy about this, but coriolanus’ songbird made quite the impression with viewers. you’d expected him to gloat in your face, a typical action of his, but todays far different. there’s an eery difference to the coriolanus you saw that morning before the plinth prize was changed.

“I’d expect you to be happy about your bird gaining you views and donations—“

“she’ll die by tomorrow, y/n. your guy at least has a chance to win. he’s strong enough to take on the others. you’ve got the money in the bag.” he runs a frustrated hand through his white blond curls. his bright blue eyes stare into your soul the way they normally do. so tempting to swim in, but you fight the current. you’re stronger than that, and after all these years of fierce competition, Coriolanus was not going to get you like this.

“I know your motives, snow. sympathizing with me isn’t going to get you far.” you spit out the words, spinning back in the direction towards home. if it wasn’t for the capital traffic, and coriolanus, you’d be home by now. you’d be in bed dreading sleep while you worry awake about the next morning.

“motives? can’t we be friends for once—“

“you want my alliance so my guy doesn’t kill her. I’m always a step ahead of you.”

he scoffs. he stands inches behind you, watching you eye the traffic circle for a chance to sprint across towards the grass for the home stretch. the comforting walls of your bedroom were waiting for you, but coriolanus and rush hour were adding to your time.

“alliance? if I’d wanted an alliance I’d have asked sejanus for help, since he has the money we both don’t have.”

it’s no secret to the two of you that money was tight. it’s maybe why you both work harder than the others, because college was in their futures, and your futures were determined by the outcome of the hunger games. the first time you met Coriolanus, you knew he was just like you. tight shoes, shirt that was far too big, and an excitement for the amount of food that capital had to offer. staring into each others souls that first lecture was when you knew coriolanus was not going to be your friend.

“so then what do you want from me? because once this is all over,” you snap your head up in his direction, his blue eyes piercing into your own, you can feel his anxiety radiating off him, “you’ll go back to hating me and begging for some of that plinth money.”

—

anxiety sits at the pit of your stomach. his songbird had run to the fans leaving four remaining in the pact on the hunt for her. coriolanus sits two seats away from you, his eyes haven’t left the screen since she’d gone into hiding.

“she’ll have to come out eventually.” you snap your head in his direction for a brief second, but his don’t leave where the four attempt to get her out of the vents.

you’d be lying to say you weren’t nervous for everyone in the arena. you’d hated how they were pitted against each other for punishment, and having to mentor these people made your attachment towards the games far worse. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, and frankly if you could, you wouldn’t watch.

there was no exact plan when you met your tribute. he’d been shaken up from the past couple of days and just wanted to survive. you couldn’t blame him, and while you worked on some strategies, it was all up to him.

“she can survive—“ his words were a second too late when the clan began to rattle the vents, using pitch forks and other weapons to get her out. the dust was too heavy for the cameras to see anything, but you’d assumed they got her out by the looks of it, and everyone held onto their seats.

she’d appeared from the dusty air in no time. running for another escape, when Dr. Gauls trick up her sleeve rattled the arena. she had a way of twisting the games, and the game seemed to last longer than she intended: enter the tank the drones were dropping off.

“what is she doing.” you move closer to coriolanus, your voice in a hushed tone so the other remaining mentors didn’t hear a thing. he’s focused on the screen, but your eyes find Dr. Gaul and her wicked smile.

“if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you anyway—“

“there’s no point in bluffing, they’ll die anyway with that tank of snakes.” your voice is strained, the words come out slithery on your tongue, coriolanus turns his head in your direction for the first time today.

his blue eyes were a different shimmer. they bleed with anxiety, and as he rises out of the chair, he pulls you closer to his chest. he carefully lowers his head down towards your ear, mouth hovering over it, “I’m so sorry, but it had to be done. I wouldn’t look if I were you.”

slowly moving backwards from his grip, you run towards the doors. time seemed to slow down. you spot Tigris, she’s rising from her seat, a smile stretched across her face as her, and other students, rush to congratulate coriolanus on his victory, you can hear him calling out your name as the doors slam behind you.

your feet carry you. the sounds of the fireworks and the honks of the cars in the traffic circle don’t phase you, but you’re running to the only place that you know. the only place that’ll play fair against coriolanus snow’s twisted games.

MONTHS LATER

“so you do win after all.”

the sound of his shoes scraping against the floor are different. you used to recognize his patterned steps, the way they scuffed the floor because the shoes he wore were too small.

turning around in your chair, you spot the new coriolanus snow. the man who fell off the face of the capital once Dr. Gaul was made aware of his cheating. now, you sit in the University library staring a different snow.

“I didn’t have to cheat for it.”

he rolls his eyes taking the seat across from you at the table. your notes are scattered amongst the table, and you look the same minus the bags you wear under your eyes. university changed you. and district twelve certainly changed him. working through the ranks to move to district two, only to be summoned by Dr. Gaul for a second chance in the capital. he arrived home yesterday, and made it his plans to find you. which wasn’t hard, since you spent all your life in this exact library anyway.

“I learned my lesson. you caught me.” he raises his hands up in defense, you spot the marks against his forearm. leaning forward, you carefully wrap your fingers around his pale skin, “snake bite?”

“they aren’t friendly in the wild.”

a chuckle escapes your lips as you release his arm from your light grip, “they were friendly to Lucy gray.”

“well she’s not so friendly to me anymore.”

“oh corio, you should know cheating for a girl never makes a good impression.” you smile brightly. leaning back into your seat, you get a better look at him. the buzzcut suits him, bringing his bright blue eyes more to the center of his looks.

he exhales a deep sigh nodding in agreement, “I’m a changed man, thanks to you. you taught me a lot.”

“so what are you doing home, snow? I thought you were out of here for twenty years.” at least those were the rumors you heard. nobody spoke of sejanus or coriolanus much anymore, and while you worried if tattling was the right thing to do, you’re happy to see he came back a better version of himself.

“you didn’t hear?” he asks. shaking your head you gesture for him to continue, “I’ll be working closely with Dr. Gaul. I’m back to the capital, and I’m back to mess with you.”

you wish he could’ve seen how far you rolled your eyes back, but he was long gone after that, leaving you alone to study once again. you knew Coriolanus wouldn’t last twenty years away from you. not since he was practically in love with you.

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Weird Water Fun || Yandere Merman x Gn Kayaker Reader

Characters: Ranee

Summary: Kayaking is so fun! Even in the ocean! You have a little follower though.

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence, stalking

A/n: Just a merman baby that's so confused

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Merman who is very curious about the human world. All mers are and he is no exception. However, his curiosity blurs with concern so he constantly gets lost within the harbor where multiple boats, big and small, go through.

Yan Merman who struggles to find a way out, following the boats but ends up more and more lost. He's on the verge of tears before a small little kayak floats above him.

Yan Merman he swims up, carefully poking his head out of the water as he sees the cutest human he's ever laid eyes on. The definition of perfection. And the grace they had in the water, they must be like him!

Yan Merman who follows you as you kayak along the harbor, behind expensive beach houses and through bridges. He's so grateful when you lead him out to the open ocean.

Yan Merman who is convinced that you want to be like him. How else could you manage the water with such skill? And your arm strength! He couldn't help but drool a bit at your upper arm muscles.

Yan Merman who sees you as a potential protector. You look strong! No, you are strong to glide on the water with such speed and power! He made the decision to tip your kayak over so you could join him.

Yan Merman who is utterly confused when you freak out that you capsized. When he tries to drag you done to go home with him, you manage to escape and flip your kayak back over. You did lose your paddle though.

Yan Merman who watches as you barely make it to a dock nearby to compose yourself. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! You were supposed to follow him home and be his mate! Why did you go back?

Yan Merman who sees you looking for something. Now you're jumping into the water and swimming underneath its surface. Did you really not want him? That is until he notices the paddle that's poking his tail. Oh! You were just looking for your artificial fins! That's okay, he'll give them back to you.

Yan Merman who watches you leave with your kayak. Wait! You need your fins right? Why are you just leaving? Oh, but how you mesmerize him with how you pick up your kayak and carry it all on your own.

Yan Merman who keeps your paddle close to him until he sees you again. These are your special fins, oh he feels so dirty for touching them, but it's like your holding his hand. He so much wishes you had just let him drag you down.

Yan Merman who sees you on a pier he frequents. This is finally his chance to give you back what you lost! With a kiss on each paddle, he hoists it up over his head, and you see your paddle sticking up in the water.

Yan Merman who both hates and loves the fact that he got to give it back to you. For a long while this was his connection to you, but seeing you smile like that when you saw the paddle made his heart, well one of them, leap into his throat.

Yan Merman who is back to following you in the bay and harbor while you kayak around. Gives your paddle a tug when you talk to other people as they pass you by on their big yachts. Why are you noticing them and not him?

Yan Merman who finally shows himself to you when you're out in the middle of the ocean. He tried so hard to speak to you. He's been learning your language from the menus that the local restaurants would throw away! He doesn't know what a crab cake is, but it must mean 'I love you' right?

Yan Merman who's shocked that your first reaction is to reach over to give him a head pat. He gurgles but stops when he notices your kayak tipping. Is quick to the rescue to balance you, can't have you in the water again!

Yan Merman who visits you more on the docks and pokes at your feet. They interest him okay? Shouldn't your fins be there? Why do you have them on a stick? He has so many questions but can only ask in his food code.

Yan Merman who adores when you teach him things. He finally grasps your greeting and how to ask how you are! And he gets rewarded in human treats! Though they're too sweet for him, he likes the wrappers! He's the main reason for pollution.

Yan Merman who will bite your hand out of nowhere. You get used to it and your friends will ask about the rigid teeth marks on your hand. Can't really explain who gave it to you. He's giggling to himself at the fact that you were so oblivious to the mark's meaning.

Yan Merman who sees you interacting with another human, a man. You're supposed to be his mate though, not this very overdressed idiot? He doesn't even understand how graceful you are in the water.

Yan Merman who doesn't understand who this human is. Why are you docking here? And why does he smell like a sweeter version of the ocean? It's just giving the poor merman a headache. Come back to him. Please?

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

His Second Chance

Taglist

Everything was groggy when you finally came back, a sting in your neck making it painful to move.

Ignoring the pain the best you could, you looked around, only to see you were back in Miles' room.

But, not really. This wasn't your world.

Once it hit that you didn't wake up back at home, in bed with your Miles you sat up quickly, trying to move out of bed only to see your hands were tied and your ankles.

They weren't tied harshly, like the one who tied them with care, careful not to hurt you even when you moved around but strong enough you couldn't get out.

"What- what the fuck…" you muttered, trying to pull your hands free or get the knots undone before you heard a chair squeak and you froze.

"Don't worry about it. Can't get 'em off. Stop trying."

You turned your head quickly to Miles' chair, the back turned to you as a familiar deep and stoic voice spoke.

"Won't know if I don't try." You quipped back, trying to make whatever light of the situation you could, at least try to get you and Miles out alive.

And you could swear, you heard almost a chuckle come from behind that chair, quickly ended by the one sitting in it.

"...Why are you here?" He asked, quickly getting to the point as you scoffed.

"You're the one holding us here? We just wanna get home." You put it bluntly, going back to working on your toes as he wasn't looking.

"No." You could hear him say, the chair turning around as you worked faster before he saw.

"I mean, why are you here?" He asked, demanding as the chair finally turned.

You couldn't help but freeze as you saw his face.

It was Miles.

Your Miles.

But, not really. This Miles was visibly different and you could tell. This Miles was cold. This Miles just stared at you instead of smiling like yours did.

He was not your Miles.

Your Miles was knocked out somewhere, and needed you to get out of here.

"How are you here when you're not even supposed to be breathing?" This Miles brought you back from your shock, watching the confusion and realization sink in.

This was his world. The world where you guys disrupted the canon. The one with no Spider-Man.

So now you were forced to look at his suit, a suit similar to one Uncle Aaron wore when he was dubbed the Prowler.

"I'm not…we're not supposed to be here." You muttered, looking at everything and how similar it was to your Miles' room, down to every last picture of both of you in every same place.

"But you are." Miles bluntly reiterated, staring at you, his eyes going over and over your face like he was trying to find any similarities and any differences, he found all of one.

"You're the Prowler…? You can't be- you can't be the Prowler." You denied, stumbling over your words out of shock and shaking your head.

"Wanna know how I became the Prowler?" Miles somehow was amused by your shock and confusion, standing up to walk to you.

You couldn't find it in yourself to back away as he leaned down to you on the bed, his face close to yours as he stared into you.

"Because my dad died. And you died. Know what it's like to watch your girlfriend crushed to death with your dad on TV?" Miles muttered, his gaze never leaving you.

"And finding your body under all that?" Miles kept going, watching every reaction you did, your eyes darting around as you took in the new information.

"Now you're back…" Miles muttered, a small smirk can't help but to make its way onto his lips as he kept thinking of all the possibilities, the second chance he had now in his grip.

"Looking just as pretty as the day you left." Miles complimented, his smirk only growing as he used his fingers to pull your chin up to look at him.

"You think I'm gonna let that go?" Miles chuckled, amused at how you wanted to just leave, because he wasn't gonna let you.

"Miles. I'm…I'm not your (Name). I'm sure she loved you- but I'm not her." You tried to explain, shaking your head.

"But you are in some multiverse way. Right?" Miles laid the sarcasm on, his smirk slowly leaving as he heard how much you denied.

"Please. Just let us go home. I'm sure I loved you as much as you did me here, but you're not my Miles and I'm not your (Name)." You shook your head, a plea to understand.

"So please, let us go home." You begged one more last time as Miles just now stared at you, face blank the more you went on about leaving him.

Again.

"...How come he gets to have you and everything while I'm stuck here with what could've been avoided?" Miles scoffed, his hand making its way onto your cheek, feeling your skin he hadn't felt in so long.

"It doesn't work like that." Miles muttered, staring into your eyes, his hand lingering before he pulled away, turning his back to you and to the door.

"Miles! Please, just let us go! I- we don't belong here!" You yelled after him, desperate for him to understand as he activated his mask.

"You did once before. You'll do it again...But he won't."

Miles out on his glove, his mask over his face as your pleas fell onto deaf ears as he walked away.

He wasn't losing his second chance.

Not to that Miles, not to anyone.

You weren't leaving him again.