#although i think it would please all of you to hear. or moreso i think it pleases me to hear. that i have now started the essay at least xx

[steelycunt]

for every three jstor articles i read on the topic of my essay (<- boring) i am letting myself read one on a topic i am interested in (<- fun + educational) as a little treat. as an activity that allows me to regularly read about things i like it is super great and as a method of reward to incentivise my work it is very poor and i. dont recommend it

[slutforitoshi]

sae itoshi - ring *:･ﾟ✧

ft. sae x f!reader, 18+ minors dni 

cw: cheating/infidelity, fingering, unprotected sex, sae is mean, you will feel bad for rin but horny for sae

synopsis: you finally meet your future brother-in-law, and he is more than pleased to see you

wc: 2.04k

A/N: i wrote this right before my physio midterm hopefully there’s no typos oops 

“sae that’s amazing!” his mother exclaimed in response to his news of him moving back to japan. a family dinner was called with some promise of a big announcement and this must have been it. you guessed sae wanted to tell his family before the media announced his relocation.

“what happened to mr. ‘I’m too good for japan,’” rin, your fiancee, sneered albeit jokingly. although you weren’t technically part of the family (yet), the itoshis insisted on having you over. this was the first time you’ve seen sae though. he was always abroad.

“well someone’s gotta humble you here,” sae rolled his eyes, reflecting the same energy back to his brother. you could see the resemblance. teal eyes, fair skin. all similar right down to their serious, deadpanned demeanor. the biggest difference was his hair, a light maroon color, swept up to reveal his forehead. you wondered if rin would ever style his similarly if you asked him…shit. he caught you looking for a little too long.

and he smirks. the heat rising to your cheeks does not make it any better and you quickly look away fiegning innocence. you try to make up excuses in your head, moreso to convince yourself than anyone else though. yeah, you were just looking because this was the first time you met him. it’s normal to be curious about someone new.

rin’s hands stir you from your thoughts, now settled on your own. the glimmering ring on your left hand, that you were prideful of, suddenly burned on your finger. like it was punishing you for your thoughts just minutes ago. 

“so how long you guys been together?” sae asks pointedly at rin, although his eyes were fixed on you. you couldn’t look back directly, out of fear of the blush that might rise again.

“3 years? we’ve been engaged for about half a year though.”

“she’s pretty, i’d always known you had a good eye”, sae responds, still staring. it felt like a hole was being bored into your skull. and there was the blush you tried so hard to repress. he thinks you’re pretty. you suddenly felt like a schoolgirl, hearing that her crush might like her, too.

the conversation shifts away from you thankfully, giving you a second to finally breathe. calm down. that is his brother. you should not be feeling like this. your eyes betray you though, sneaking glances at sae. what was it about him that captivated you so much? 

“hey, are you ok?” rin’s question jolts you back again, him noticing you haven’t really been present in current conversation. your surprise causes you to drop your spoonful of soup…right into your lap. 

“oh my gosh,” you stumble over your words, embarrassed. 

“it’s alright, do you want me to lend you a pair of pants?” his mom asks, so unaware of the sinful thoughts that were circling your head about her son (and not the one you’re engaged to).

“it’s okay!” you interject, “it’s only a small stain. it should come off with a bit of scrubbing”

you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to clean up the mess. both on your pants and in your mind.

the faucet running quickly washes the stain and the thoughts away. you look down at your ring again. it’s beautiful, like your relationship. too beautiful to throw away over some silly thoughts. reassuring yourself, you focus back onto the spilled soup.

you hear the bathroom door handle turn, and you continue to scrub at the stain without looking up, assuming it’s just rin checking on you.

“hey,” a voice says. it’s not rin. his voice was more sultry, mature. 

you look up and all the thoughts you’d work so hard to scrub away are crawling back. 

“um hi…i was just about to go back out so you don’t have to-” your meek voice is cut off.

“does rin satisfy you?” he says bluntly. wow, right to the point huh.

“why is that any of your business?” you try to sound strong, but shift your gaze to the ground, scared that your composure might crumble if you look into those teal eyes.

“that’s not what it looks like to me,” sae says simply, stepping closer to you. your eyes stay fixed on the ground.

“you were practically begging me to fuck you through your pretty lashes. rin’s not the only one who has a good eye. who do you think trained him to read intentions?” he continues, seeing right through you. 

“look, it doesn’t matter what I think. rin and I are engaged. i’m not throwing all that away for some stupid thoughts.” you stood firm, but the ring began to burn on your finger again. 

“who said you had to throw it away? as long as you know how to keep secrets that is” he’s even closer to you now. one more step and he’d be able to touch you, and why did you not hate that?

you pursed your lips, unable to deny your attraction now. the ring was scalding against you, and a pit in your stomach began to grow. he took yet another step closer and now you can smell him. cologne. a deep scent, not too musky though…just how you liked it. your resolve was tearing at the seams.

“you better make your decision soon. not much longer until rin gets suspicious” sae half-cages you in, putting one arm past your waist to lean against the bathroom counter. you could easily go around the other side to exit, but as his cologne invades your surroundings, your thoughts surround you. and you lean in.

his hands move quickly to your sides, holding you tight now that you’ve made your decision. his strong arms hoist you up onto the counter where his hand once rested. 

his lips were soft, but he kissed with such aggression which you happily reciprocated. your movements were driven by pure lust. desperation. when was the last time you felt like this? rin was a gentle lover most of the time, unless you pleaded with him to be a little rough. 

“you better not be thinking of him right now. focus on me,” sae spat, as if reading your mind once again. 

your pants were quickly pulled off, now damp in two places. his right hand was immediately in between, pulling the thin cloth to the side.

“you’re soaked,” he exasperates, and it was the first hint of a smile you’d seen all night. his lips were on you again, although you found it increasingly difficult to kiss back. not when his fingers were circling your clit at a fervent speed. then, they entered, earning a gasp from you.

“s-so full” you stutter at the sudden entry. 

“you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to take my cock,” he mutters, mostly to himself. you could only respond in moans, not even caring if they could reach the dining table where the rest of the family sat. sae seemed to care though, clamping his free hand over your mouth so that only muted vibrations could escape. 

two fingers became three, and you welcomed the stretch. sae had clearly done this before, being able to curl them to hit just the right gummy spot that took rin months to even find. 

you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. if he continued, you would surely reach your first orgasm of the night. he doesn’t give you that luxury though. you’re on a time crunch, remember?

he takes his palm off your mouth, and reaches down to fumble his belt buckle open. and then you’re met with his cock. you could understand why he was concerned about you being able to take it now. 

you let out a small whine as his fingers left you, but it was quickly replaced with his thick girth. at least he was gentle with the entry. but he barely gives you a second to take it in before he started moving. 

his hands now gripped your waist tightly on both sides, fucking you with such conviction. you felt like your were being used, and you relished in it. 

“fuck. it’s not fair; rin keeping this perfect fuck toy to himself,” he muttered to himself again. he wasn’t as vocal as rin you noted, limiting himself to the occasional grunt or deep, breathy moan. 

“s-sae”, it was difficult to get much words out.

“slow down you’re going to break me,” you utter, even though you knew he had no intention of doing so. 

“break then. let everyone know what a fucking slut you are throwing yourself onto your fiancee’s brother,” he challenges you. his cruel words sent a chill down your spine, right into the heat where he currently thrusted in and out of.

the sounds of his rough pounding filled the room, complimented by your higher pitched moans. his right hand moved from your waist and placed itself at your clit, rubbing fast circles, earning even louder sounds from you. 

“do I need to shut you up again,” he growled, but not stopping his ministrations. his thrusts became sporadic and irregular, a sign you knew as being close. you started clamping harder onto his cock, attempting to milk out every last drop.

“f-fuck, don’t stop doing that,” he recognizes your attempts, and any guilt that he could have about betraying his brother left his mind (not that he had much in the first place). 

he quickly pulls out, spilling his seed all over your thighs and stomach. after catching his breath, he stands back and gives you another smirk, rather proud of the mess he made you into. as if on cue, your session is cut by a familiar voice.

“you good in there?” rin calls from outside. your eyes widen, panicked. 

“i’m fine! just uh fixing up some makeup!” you called back, coming up with an excuse. you quickly take toilet paper, wiping up your body, frantically hiding any evidence. looking around, your eyes settle onto the bathtub.

“hide in there quick!” you whisper-shout, practically pushing sae behind the curtains. 

you pull up your discarded pants, trying to ignore the pool that was still in between your legs you forgot to wipe up. you manage to button them right before rin turns the handle.

“what took you so long?” he comes up behind you, pressing a kiss onto your temple. you give a meek smile in return, hoping he couldn’t hear your hammering heart.

“oh the stain was harder to get out than I thought, and I wanted to touch up my makeup since it smeared a little” you lied. 

“really? I didn’t notice.” he guides you out of the bathroom, and you let out a breath of relief thankful that he didn’t suspect anything. 

“oh by the way have you seen sae? he said he was going to bring you some stain remover he had on him,” rin asks, and your breath hitches.

“o-oh yeah he stopped by. i got the stain out mostly by then so I told him I didn’t need it,” you hoped that sounded natural enough, “maybe he’s taking a call or something,” adding an alibi.

“yeah he must be busy with the new move,” rin concluded. 

“let’s head back soon I’m a little tired”, you suggested, knowing dinner was about over anyways. it technically wasn’t a lie, you were tired (from being fucked like a whore). 

“good thinking, the drive’s a bit long anyways.” he clasps his right hand around your left, and your attention is brought back to the ring which started to grow uncomfortably warm against your finger again.

~~~

“you coming to bed?” rin asks, already brushed up and ready for sleep. 

“yeah just wanted to hang up some clothes”, you call back from the closet. as you put the hanger around the coat you wore for the night, you noticed a corner poke out of its pocket. you pulled the sheet out.

we’re not finished yet, i still need to make you cum XXX-XXX-XXXX

you rip up the paper until the text was no longer legible, discarding it in the nearest trashbin. 

but not before the digits were seared into your head, just like the ring that has been searing your finger all night.

[paraliveimaginesblog]

hey there, hope you're doing well! could you please do number 16 of the kiss prompts with allen? thankies, have a lovely day! ♡

Allen Sugasano:

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

When inspiration hit, Allen knew he had to ride the wave.

You weren’t hanging out exactly; you were moreso doing homework on his bed while he sat at his desk and wished he was sitting next to you. The distance between you, the obligation to finish a necessary daily task rather than indulge in something that’d make him far happier because of the consequences it would have on his future, had inspired him for a new set of lyrics which led him straight down the hip hop rabbit hole. You had watched him quietly from his bed for a few seconds, with Allen nearly able to hear the eyeroll when you noticed he’d switched from ‘work mode’ to ‘hip hop mode’. You expected it from him at this point, but it also meant he’d never finish his homework on time, and that you wouldn’t be able to cuddle with him before heading back to your own home.

“Allen~” You whined, looking at the back of his head expectantly. “Allen! I want attention!”

“Hold on, let me just…” When Allen trailed off you knew he’d re-entered the zone, letting out a deep sigh and giving him another ten minutes before you started bothering him again. He doesn’t seem to think that any time has passed at all, looking at you with a tilted head before his eyes lit up.

“You can help!” Allen stood up, stumbling over the chair leg in his haste to get to you, plopping himself on the bed briefly before standing up again and retrieving the pen and paper he’d forgotten at his desk. He flashed you a bright smile as he showed you the writings he’d been working on, a little difficult to understand but the love letters you received from him helped you figure out his handwriting a little more.

“But I want to cuddle.”

“We can do that too, after—”

“Allen~! There’s no after and you know it!” You thought you could win with a pout but Allen was too genuine for his own good, wiping the look off your face in a matter of seconds when he dipped down to kiss you excitedly.

“Sorry, you know I like looking back at the songs we wrote together,” Allen laughed a little, flipping through his notebook to show you pages that were messes of ink, “Ah, do you remember when we thought of a line at the same time? …That’s when I knew we had to be soulmates…”

Allen had wiped the pout off your face in seconds with a kiss, but the end of his sentence was sure to wipe it away for an eternity. You feel your heart pounding in your chest and although you’re dating this man, and knew that he loved you, it was always nice to hear. He was sincere with his emotions, direct, and you knew that he wasn’t just appealing to your emotions to stop you from being upset with him. The way he trailed off, with a flustered look on his face like he hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud, left you feeling even more in love than you had before.

“…I’ll help you out. But we are cuddling while we do it.” You tackled him, arms wrapped around his middle stubbornly as you knocked him back on the bed, knowing his grip on the notebook and pen were tried and true. You both fell back on his bed in a fit of giggles, your head resting above his heart as you listened to its steadying rhythm.

“I don’t know if I can write like this…” Allen mumbled, trying to keep one arm around you while positioning the notebook in a way he could write on it at the same time.

“You’ll figure it out.”

[domripley]

Mommy’s Good Boy

pairing: dean x joey

warnings: dom joey, sub dean, femdom, mommy kink, handjob, titsucking, praise kink, sph, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

summary: dean tells joey that he likes milfs, so joey decides to fuck him.

kinktober 23/24’: mommy kink/femdom

word count: 1.2k

a/n: based on the deleted scene where dean says he likes milfs too

edited by my lovely girlfriend @specialinterestshows 🥰🩵

“… No Dean, I don’t think she fucks with you,” Joey said, trying her best not to laugh at the younger man.

Dean scoffed, “You jealous?”

Joey laughed in response.

“I like milfs too, you feel me? I don’t discriminate,” Dean continued.

Joey opened her mouth, trying to hide the smirk forming. She was surprised with how he was able to say it with no hesitation. A part of herself wanted to laugh in his face and tell him to fuck off, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Come see me in my room in twenty minutes. Don’t be late,” Joey smirked, turning around and headed up to the room to check on the girl.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said.

Joey sat at the edge of the bed, waiting to see if Dean was going to show up. This wasn’t like her; usually, she was all business, not getting distracted by anything or anyone. But here she was, inviting this member of the team into the room she was staying in. She jumped as she heard a knock at her door, quickly telling whoever it was to come in.

“Hey,” Dean hummed, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

“Hey,” Joey said back, watching as he stood in front of her awkwardly. “You can sit down next to me if you’d like.”

Dean nodded, sitting down next to Joey. She smiled, “Good boy.” He blushed from the praise, and she made a mental note to praise him any chance she got. Even though they just had the night together and they probably would never see each other again, she decided to break her own rules. Why not have some fun? It was going to be a long night before they were all going to be able to go home.

“You like it when I call you a good boy, Dean?” Joey asked, eyes moving down to focus on his lips.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

Joey chuckled, looking down to see his cock straining in his pants. “Do you need Mommy to take care of your… little issue.”

Dean let out a moan, “Oh- yes, fuck. Yes, please.”

“Take off your pants,” Joey instructed.

Dean stood up, pulling his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. Joey licked her lips, slapping the thigh of his that was closer to her.

“Do you like when I call your cock small?” Joey asked, moreso out of curiosity.

Dean looked down at the ground as he sat back down. “Y- Yes.”

Joey hummed, “Yes what?”

When Dean didn’t respond, Joey took a deep breath. She knew she needed to be patient, but she wanted to get this over with before she had to check on the girl again.

“If you’re going to waste my time then you can go get yourself off by touching that small cock of yours. You have one more chance to answer me or I will be sending you back to your room with a red ass,” Joey threatened.

“Yes, Mommy,” Dean whispered, embarrassed.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Joey said. Although she heard him loud and clear, she couldn’t help but love hearing how shy he was getting. Going from the confidence to tell her that he liked milfs to the shy submissive. Joey couldn’t get enough of it.

“I said, ‘yes, mommy’,” Dean said, a little bit louder this time. Normally, Joey would make him repeat himself again, but she was too turned on to stay on the subject.

“Good boy,” Joey smirked, moving off the bed and onto her knees in front of Dean. She pulled his boxers down and slid them off him, spreading his legs so his cock was on display for her. “God this cock of yours is so small, it’s cute.”

Joey wrapped her hand around Dean’s cock, leaning in and taking the tip into her mouth. His cock wasn’t small at all, but Joey was pretending that it was and to her surprise, he seemed to really enjoy it.

Joey hummed, causing Dean to throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good,” he moaned as Joey began to suck his cock, taking him all the way into her mouth.

Joey squeezed Dean’s thighs, dragging her nails down them. He winced, trying to push her hands away but she grabbed them to hold him in place. Joey pulled her mouth off his cock, smirking at him as she noticed tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

“Do you want to fuck Mommy?” Joey asked, getting up off her knees before she took her shirt off. “If I had a strapon, I’d peg you, but I guess sitting on your tiny cock will have to do.”

“Please,” Dean begged. “I want you to ride my cock.”

“Good boy!” Joey praised, “Telling me what you want without shying away, what a good boy!”

Joey sat down next to Dean, wrapping one arm around him to guide his head to her chest. He got the hint quickly, wrapping his lips around her nipple. Dean sucked gently, and Joey hummed, closing her eyes to focus on how good his mouth felt. Dean began to suck harder, bringing a hand to her other breast, palming it roughly.

“Good boy,” she breathed. Joey opened her eyes and spat on her hand twice before bringing it down to his hard cock. Wrapping her hand around his cock, squeezing gently before she began to move it.

“Fuck,” Joey moaned. “Your mouth feels good.”

Dean smirked, biting her nipple gently before pulling away from her. “I- Please sit on my cock, Mommy.”

Without a word, Joey stood up pulling her pants and underwear off, Joey moved Dean so he was laying down with his feet still on the ground and his legs off the bed.

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joey straddled him. Sinking down onto his cock, she bit her lip to stop the moan that was trying to escape. “I can’t even feel your pathetic little cock. You’re all the way inside of me and I can barely tell,” she laughed.

“Come on, you said you wanted to fuck me, so do it. I’m not doing all of the work,” Joey pushed.

Dean began to fuck Joey, grabbing her by the waist to hold her in place. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Dean moaned, causing Joey to laugh.

“I feel so good, but I can’t feel you,” she teased, forcing his hands onto the bed. Joey began to fuck herself, using one hand to rub her clit. “Gonna make this useless cock good for something. You’re gonna be my toy for the rest of the night to use whenever I feel like it.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m cl-“ he began. Joey slapped her hand against his mouth, keeping it there as she continued to fuck him.

“Shut the fuck up,” she growled. “Toys don’t talk. Toys don’t fucking talk.”

Joey leaned down, biting Dean’s neck as her orgasm was fast approaching. “Don't you dare cum until I do,” she warned.

Dean held his breath when she moved her hand from his mouth, fucking up into Joey to meet her own movements. She came silently, fucking herself through her orgasm.

“Go on, come inside of me,” Joey snapped, grabbing his neck and squeezing right as he came.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before Joey moved off him.

“Fuck,” was all he said, sitting up to grab his pants.

“You smoke?” Dean asked.

Joey shook her head, “No, but do what you need to do because I want another round.”

[bad811content]

listen..mod vitto i love you with my entire heart but PLEASE hear me out zawg

vittorino literally ripped this man rykers teeth out with pliers what do you guys like about him 😟😟 if this man ever saw his glazers irl he would create a shrine out of each and every one of your molars..😓 love you guys tho! couldn’t be me, yall stay safe 😁

In my opinion, you can like a character for the various traits they have, how they act in the narrative along with backstory that is either revealed or implied, how they interact with some of the cast while also condemning their actions. The two are not separate from each other.

I've never once shied away from the fact Vittorino does horrific things to Ryker, sells organs to earn a profit (this is moreso implied), has a harrowing drug addiction and in a way enables Juliek to continue substance abuse, and so on. All those things are real.

At the same time, Vittorino has also undergone and underwent trauma that you and I could not possibly fathom and that has warped his sense of purpose, his belonging and ultimately affected his relationships in the long term. How he changes and how he copes with what he's gone through makes sense and makes him a very compelling and interesting character as someone who has also underwent a lot of trauma. THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE HIM FROM ANYTHING HE DOES IN THIS GAME. THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE HIM FROM ANYTHING HE DOES IN THIS GAME. THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE HIM FROM ANYTHING HE DOES IN THIS GAME.

I also enjoy that he has little quirks about him. He's an artist, there's artwork of him fingerpainting with Amalia and I think that's really sweet. He obviously cares a great deal about Gabriel, although this still needs to be explored further in future chapters. If you pick up the music box and choose the rabbit's route when exploring the Baslicia Catacombs you can actually grant what is essentially a moment of peace for a troubled, amorphized Vittorino before he fades away (which also imo makes me believe he's either going to die or his fate will be left ambiguous but I'm too sick right now to spend too much time thinking on that).

At the same time, no one is expected to like or enjoy characters who do terrible things in the narrative. If you don't like him, that's all good! If you do like him, that's fine too. Just acknowledge what he does in the game and what makes him interesting and flawed.

[honney-pies]

Ma Cherie❤︎

Birthday Girl

Pairing: Inumaki Toge/F!Reader/Okkotsu Yuuta

Fandom : Jujutsu Kaisen

Summary : this is how (y/n) got her name and how found family is like my fav trope.

Content warning/chapter warning: character death, referenced/implied abuse, referenced/implied sexual assault, excessive blood loss, thoughts of self-hatred, depression, feeling helpless, a knife is used, her mother SUCKS, please please please seek help if you or a loved one is being abused or in a harmful environment. I'm not sure if there is anything else, but please let me know and I will add it to the list!

Length: 2.5k

A/n: GUYS I'M SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POSTED I FORGOT THAT I SAVED THIS TO DRAFTS! the next couple chapters are going to be more gaining context while also establishing how she interacts with others. the next two chapters (and this one too i think) contain spoilers for JJK season two. (y/n)'s birth name is Akane, but after this chapter I don't plan on referencing that. right now i'm sitting at about three chapters either nearly completed or started. please let me know if you liked this post! as always there is an oc version here and on ao3, feel free to read it if you would like! i'm still not sure how long this fic will be, but i'm aiming for about ten chapters. (Y/N) calls herself Akane anytime before she turns five.

Ma Cherie Masterlist

 ─── ⋆⋅ November  2016 ⋅⋆ ─── 

(Y/n) was looking at Panda and Maki sparring when she saw someone sit down in the corner of her eyes. Yuuta kept on staring at the sixteen year old, and she was beginning to feel her skin get itchy from feeling watched. He kept on looking at her then looking away, clearly he wanted to say something, but she didn’t want to bring it up if he didn’t intend to ask. 

“Kamo-san, why do some people call you Akane and others call you (Y/n)?” The girl in question looked at the dark haired boy and stared at him. 

“O-oh, you don’t need to answer that if you don’t want to! I didn’t mean to put you on the spot!” (Y/n) laughed, Yuuta was definitely too sweet for this world. 

“Do you want the short version or the longer one,” she asked. 

“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me,” he replied. 

    ─── ⋆⋅December 29, 2005⋅⋆ ─── 

It had been her birthday. Akane had just turned five years old and Shoko, Suguru and Satoru made sure to give her the best day ever. It had been her first birthday since her mother first tried to hurt her and Yaga banned her from entering the school. 

That night she was determined to sleep in her old room by herself and prove to herself that she grew up and could overcome what had happened to her. For a little over a month she had been alternating rooms and everyone had taken turns walking her to and from school along with having her accompany them on missions, obviously staying in the car, if no one else was available to watch her. All to protect her from her mother. 

When she had gotten into the room everything seemed fine, safe. Satoru was one room down and Suguru was in the same hallway as well. Shoko was still at her parents until classes started again. Satoru and Suguru had stayed with her for most of the night until she said she wanted to spend the night alone. They just looked at each other and agreed. What she didn’t know was that Suguru had let a small curse to watch over her, moreso to let him know if there were any changes in her mood or breathing. They both made their promises of seeing Akane tomorrow and to come into either one of their rooms should she feel scared. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Satoru?” The boy in question just looked at him and that’s all Suguru needed to know before grabbing his hand and holding it until they reached his room. The two went to their rooms and began to fall asleep. Although neither one was really able to do so. Akane’s well being was at the forefront of both of their minds. 

At first Akane didn’t know what was going on. She had thought that a tree was scratching at her window, maybe it had been a stray cat, but when she heard the shattering of her bedroom window break, she knew that it was no tree or cat. She knew it was something far worse. The five year old panicked and hid herself underneath the blanket and made herself small, as if that would keep the scary monsters away. 

We, as the readers of this story, know that hiding away under blankets will never keep the monsters at bay, but Akane was still a child, a child who didn’t fully know of the harsh realities the world, especially her own, had in store. 

The creaking of the wooden floors had been her only way of knowing where the monster was. The noises grew closer until one side of the bed dipped down and a soft voice called out to her. 

“Akane, it’s your mother. Come on out and tell me hi.” Akane was confused to say the least. From what she understood Mother was no longer allowed at the school since Yaga refused her entry. She had been told that if she did see her mother that she must go to another mom and ask to call her family or hide. 

This, however, wasn’t the first time Akane’s mother was not allowed to visit her for a period of time. From what she’s been told her mother got sad a lot. From what she heard while others thought she wasn’t listening was that her mother was unstable and had severe manic depression. She didn’t know what that really meant, but she knew that sometimes her mom wouldn’t be allowed to see her for a little bit. It happened pretty often, so Akane thought it was normal for her to disappear and show up out of nowhere. 

Unfortunately this was not one of those times. This time she felt her mothers animosity, this time she felt no love coming from her mother. Akane knew that her mother, the one she tries to remember, was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was a shell filled with rage, guilt, and anguish. This manifested itself into a pit in her mothers stomach, a pit that blamed Akane. Who she once viewed as her greatest achievement, her greatest creation, she could only view as her antagonizer.

That’s the funny thing about trauma, sometimes the blame can get misplaced. An innocent child can get the brunt of the aftermath of another man’s hand. 

Akane tried to sink herself as far down into her bed as she could, however the mattress didn’t swallow her up and protect her as she had hoped. Her mother only got angry and ripped the blanket off of her and clamped a bloodied, beaten hand over the child's mouth. Her child's mouth. 

She tried to squirm away, but her mother placed her full body weight onto her and forced her to stay put. 

“You listen here you insolent brat! You will keep your mouth shut and listen to your mother when you're told. I should have never left you here, you clearly don’t know what manners are. Now, nod your head if you’ll listen to mother like a good little girl.” Akane nodded her head, thinking that it would keep her safe. The hand that was placed over her mouth removed itself and reached to the side of her mothers clothes. She pulled out a knife and Akane had never been more scared in her life. 

“You have failed me for the last time, Akane,” hissed her mother, “you weren’t born a boy, you look like your father, you look like that other boy from your beloved fathers mistress, you have a hereditary cursed technique, one from the men's side. You have a family here, a happy one. You evade your fathers hand and live your life protected by the strongest. All of which I did for you, yet you never bother to show me gratitude. You are the product of your fathers control. Control over me, control over my body, control over my life. You are the embodiment of everything, everything, I have tried so hard to forget. I hate you! I wish you were never born!” 

The knife was lifted into the air. 

The knife was pushed into Akane’s small, fragile body. 

“Because of you, I can never be free!” The knife made its way to her stomach. She watched as her mother cried, as she wept and sobbed. Akane mirrored her mother and cried. She felt guilty for living and causing someone, especially her own mother, this much pain. As she watched the knife be lifted in the air again, she let a scream crawl its way from her throat. It came out garbled since she was choking on her own blood. She grabbed the blade and pushed it away from her body with all the strength that was left in her bloodied body. Through it all she screamed Satoru’s name, hoping that he heard her and would save her. Akane’s bedroom wall imploded on itself and two boys raced through. Suguru tackled her mother to the ground, effectively saving Akane. Satoru ran to her side and wrapped her in bedsheets, trying to stop the bleeding. The young girl looked over at her mother and noticed how she didn’t look human anymore, how she looked like a curse. 

She screamed and screamed at her daughter, blaming her, hating her. 

“I hate you! I wish you were never born!” Suguru stabbed her. The screaming turned into slurred, garbled speech.

Suguru had never seen someone actively turn into a curse before that night. He watched Akane’s mother turn into a curse right before his eyes, and just like so many times before he absorbed the girl’s mother. He hoped she would never see her mother ever again. 

Satoru rushed Akane to Shoko’s room, knowing she could save the girl. As they were leaving, Akane had three words falling from her lips.

“I love you.” 

When Akane woke back up she was in the medical bay, Shoko was watching over her. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” She pulled out her phone, “ Gojo, she woke up just now.” Shoko walked over to her and began to assess her. About half way through, the door slammed open and in ran Satoru, with Suguru not far behind. 

“You scared me! My lovely little sister scared me!” He threw himself onto her, but made sure he wasn’t actually hurting her. Suguru quickly joined them and all three of them curled up together while Shoko finished her tests. 

Later that day the four of them spent the night in Shoko’s room, it was the farthest away from the incident that happened last night. Their time together was spent goofing off and acting as children and above all else, making Akane feel loved. 

When he thought everyone else was asleep, Satoru pulled Akane closer to him and saw that she, too, hadn’t gone to bed.

“Can’t sleep,” he asked. She shook her head.

“I don’ know if I like who I am. Mother didn’ like me.” Satoru’s heart ached for her. He had been watching over the girl, mainly just keeping her company since he was 13, she was one. Their parents struck a deal to essentially groom the young girl into being a weapon for him if he desires. Though Satoru didn’t know how a measly toddler could be seen as one. 

He saw Akane all the time as he got older, when he moved into the dorms the two were practically inseparable. In fact when he introduced Suguru and Shoko to her, he referred to her as his little sister, in return she began to call him ‘toru-nii’. 

“You know, you don’t have to be who you were completely, you could be someone else. You could rise from the ashes like that one bird from Harry Potter!” She giggled quietly and rolled her eyes, although she didn’t know how to do that quite yet, so she just looked up. 

“Phoenix Fawkes, you're there when Sugu-nii reads them too, should at least remember the names.” Satoru rolled his eyes and poked her forehead. 

“You do know we love you, right? I love you. You bring us, me, so much happiness, love, and you deserve those things too. You deserve affection. (Y/n), do you know what that means? It can means ‘love and affection.’ We could call you that if you want.” 

The young girl looked up at him and smiled like he was the greatest thing to ever happen to her. He watched as she began to be overtaken by dreams, he wished they would remain happy ones. 

“I wan’ t’do that, dad.” Ak- (Y/n) drifted to sleep, and Satoru couldn't help but let out the biggest, brightest smile the world had ever seen. This was the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. (Y/n) had never called him that before, although there had been a few times where she nearly did. He couldn’t be happier than he was at this moment. He pulled the girl as close as he could without hurting her. 

In the darkness of the room he met Suguru’s eyes. He smiled at Satoru and placed his hand on top of his. 

 ─── ⋆⋅ November 2017 ⋅⋆ ───

“My dad gave it to me. I was five at the time and he wanted me to be able to choose who I would become, to let go of my biological family and move forward. To have a constant reminder that I’m loved and deserve to be happy. Some people call me Akane to piss me off, some do it because they don’t know or simply don’t care.” Yuuta looked at the girl and he knew that she must have been through something that most wouldn’t have recovered from. 

“I thought you and your family don’t talk.” 

“I talk to my older brother sometimes.I guess you wouldn’t know since you aren’t familiar with the politics and all that, but he was here for the Sister School exchange event, he goes to the Kyoto school. In fact he’s the only remotely tolerable one from my family, although I don’t go out of my way to interact with them. I don’t talk to anyone from there anymore besides him, his name is Noritoshi. He doesn’t really know how to speak for himself and it annoys me, but he respects my decision to leave even if he thinks it was a stupid idea.” 

“Oh, the one with the shut eyes?” 

“They’re narrow, but yeah, that’s him.” 

Yuuta looked at her the whole time, giving her his undivided attention. In that moment she realized she liked the feeling of his eyes on her, her skin didn’t itch as much. 

“Like Maki,” he asked. She sighed.

“Fortunately I never spent more than a couple days at the estate at a time. I grew up here, actually. My mother gave a huge amount of money to the school to let me stay here. That and Yaga and her were friends I think.  Maki had to live with them for years. I didn’t, I had the privilege to live away from them in a loving family.” 

Yuuta looked like he had more to ask, but she saw Satoru sit down next to her. He saw her smile and bump her shoulder with his, no Infinity to get in the way. 

“Hi, sensei!” He grinned at the two.

“What were my beloved students talking about? Anything interesting?” 

“My name.” Satoru looked at her through his bandages and saw her staring at the sky, running her fingers over her clothes, where the scars were, are. 

“That’s a different kind of interesting, (Y/n). You know I think I did a great job helping you pick that name out! It suits you.” Yuuta looked over confused, he was about to speak up when the girl tapped his shin with her foot, luckily he got the idea and closed his mouth. 

“I’m the one that agreed with you, so get off your high horse, sensei.” The two let out twin laughs as Satoru got up. ‘A meeting with the muscle man,’ he said. Before Yuuta even had a chance to speak, she beat him to the punch.

“He raised me. I only call him Gojo or sensei when talking around at school. To me he’ll always be toru-nii.”

“You said your father gave you that name.” She smiled.

“I said my dad did. Not my father.”

“Oh... Does he know you see him as a dad,” he asked. She nodded her head. 

“C’mon Okkotsu, let's practice.” He stared up at the girl as she offered her hand to him. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. 

He liked the way her hand felt against his, though he didn’t know if Rika would appreciate the thought.

_____________________________________________________________

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Taglist:

@staygoldsquatchling02

the next chapter, 'family bonding' should be out Saturday, September 2nd! thank you so much for reading and I will make sure to get a masterlist in place soon!

-honney

[rt2417]

[Hymn of Serata on the Requiem Night] Chapter 3

Rutile: J-Just now, something passed by…

← Previous ✧ Directory ✧ Next →

Location: Remote Central Village

Time: Day

Akira: (Perhaps that’s why…… I wonder if that’s the reason why Faust approached the villagers.)

(Come to think of it, Arthur is the Prince, so there’s the chance someone could’ve recognized him. Moreso, Cain’s wound from the Calamity prevents him from seeing others…)

Even without using words, Faust was able to make the right decision for the situation naturally. It’s a reassuring thought, having his presence by our side on this mission.

Faust: In the meantime, we should continue discussion about the investigation. Is there anyone with concrete information on the time and location of when the anomaly happens?

Woman with a Mole: Um, well… I happened to catch sight of something in the direction of the plaza. I believe it was a bit after sunset…

Graying Old Man: I also saw something just down the hill. This was late at night, around the time when most people are already in slumber…

The villagers seemed much more at ease now than a short while ago. All of them answer Faust’s questions in loud voices.

According to their reports, the anomaly only occurs during the night. Moreso, the sightings themselves can be seen all over the village.

Bearded Man: Sightings outside of the village are rare, but I’ve seen them once or twice by the right hand side of the animal trail entrance.

The end of that trail stops at a sudden steep cliff, which is why most of the village folks don’t go near it……

Cain: I see. Well, then it’s probably best to keep our investigation inside the village, yeah? If we come out with nothing, we can start looking outside.

I’ll go around shaking the villagers hands while gathering information. It’d be kinda a hassle if I can’t see them.

Faust: Right, if you would. To start off, let’s prioritize the residences with missing livestock and the areas that sustained the most damage.

Once night falls, we’ll regroup in the plaza and share our findings.

Time: Night

Rutile: As we were running about, it seems like nightfall has caught up to us.

Akira: I agree… It was like I blinked my eyes and suddenly the sun had already begun to set.

With no lit street lights or house lamps, it was hard to believe the scenery was the same as it was in the day. Everything had been enshrouded in darkness.

Since the anomalies only ever occurred at night, it was reasonable to guess that whatever it was probably wasn’t the best with light. Therefore, even the smallest lights were extinguished.

Arthur: I’ve gone and asked the residents who live around here to spend the night in other houses… but, it’s really pitch black now.

Cain: Yeah. Man, if we don’t keep talking we might even end up losing sight of each other.

Gathered in the plaza, so far, are a few of us who have already finished our investigation. The only source of light was from the moon, which occasionally flickered through the clouds.

Faust: I see that everyone has assembled. Lennox, Rustica, and I have returned.

Lennox: Apologies for the delay.

Rustica: Oh my, hearing everyone’s voices in the darkness makes it so much easier to enjoy the sound of them.

Riquet: Welcome back. Per Faust’s instructions we’ve been waiting without any lights turned on, but so far I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Cain: Ow! Rustica… My foot, you’re stepping on it!

Rustica: Oh my, excuse me. Cain, have you somehow managed to lose a few inches?

Arthur: Rustica, Cain is over that way. I’m Arthur.

Akira: We’re all at the mercy of the darkness, it seems… It’s cloudy today, so even the moonlight is dim.

Although my eyes are adjusting to it, it’s so dark you wouldn’t even realize if someone tried to pinch your nose. So, please, be careful…

Bradley: Nose? That’s a strange way to put it, ain’t it? Hey!

Akira: Guh. W-Who!?

Bradley: Hahah! You really can’t see, can ya? In a condition like that, you’ll totally get captured by the monsters!

Akira: Bradley! Oh my god…… I really thought you were the anomaly.

Faust: Seriously, what are you doing? If you keep these foolish games up, you’ll miss anything abnormal happening.

Lennox: Still, with this level of darkness, it proves quite challenging to observe anything without paying close attention.

Rather, I honestly find it easier to tell if someone is pinching my nose than this…..

Lennox says as he surveys the nearby surroundings. Then, something faintly emerges across his face.

It looks akin to a white spider. However, even as I strained my eyes, before I could clearly see it, the cover of night masks its presence.

Akira: (Was I mistaken…?)

Cain: Hey, did you guys just see that? I could’ve sworn I felt something from where Lennox’s voice was coming from……

As I look in the direction of Cain’s voice, something white quickly crosses my field of vision.

Akira: Gh…!?

Rutile: J-Just now, something passed by…

Riquet: Rutile, it’s near you!

Rutile: Wah!

Bradley: Heh… So ya got the nerve to come out now?

I could hear Bradley’s laughter from nearby, and finally, I came to see it clearly. Unconsciously, I let out a scream.

Akira: H-Hands! We’re surrounded by a bunch of white hands…!

I quickly became all too aware of the many white hands floating in the darkness, encircling us.

It was undoubtedly a bizarre spectacle. A myriad of hands float in every direction around us, swaying as if they were watching our every move.

Lennox: Kenja-sama, please stay behind me.

Akira: R-Right…!

As I take a step back, Faust recites his spell.

Faust: « Salliuqnart • Mullcredo »

As Faust finishes, an orb of light appears, illuminating the surrounding area. Naturally, everyone gathers around the orb.

Even after the light was released, the white hands persisted, moving about as they pleased. At that moment, we came to a realization.

Lennox: This is…

Akira: H-How should I put this…… Their movements are surprisingly quite unique.

Riquet: Yes….. They walk on the ground using their fingers, and sometimes mimic flying by forming wing shapes.

Rutile: They almost look like they’re swaying and dancing on a swing; giving off a relaxed feel to them, don’t they?

Cain: It’s no doubt peculiar…. Even when they appear, there’s no notable sense of weirdness. That remains true even now.

Arthur: Agreed. I don't sense anything strange or feel any hostility. If it were so, we would’ve been attacked by now.

Rustica: Then, shall I get acquainted with them? Come, extend your hands my way.

Akira: Wait, Rustica!

Rustica, who approaches gracefully, gently extends his hand towards the eerie floating white presence. The younger wizards, startled by his actions, instinctively widen their eyes.

Rustica: Oya…

Riquet: I-Is holding your hands out suddenly like that even okay…!?

Faust: How careless…. Well, never mind that; is there anything unusual?

Rustica: No. But this is quite the surprise. « Amoresuto • Viesse »

Bradley: If you wanna make the light brighter, at least give a heads up. My eyes’ are gettin’ strained.

In an instant, the white hands halted their movements, as if taken by surprise, after being bathed in the bright magic.

In that short time, I could see the details of the hands.

Akira: Could it be that….. All of them are gloves?

Rustica: That’s correct. Each one has a different shape, but they’re all crafted with high-quality materials and craftsmanship.

Arthur: Now that you mention it….. There are consistent stitches on them.

Lennox: The inside of the gloves are empty as well. They get caught by the wind, and the hem flutters about.

Rutile: It’s quite the peculiar scene, isn’t it? It feels just like a world from a picture book.

Cain: Even though it’s a picture book, it’s more so the type that suits a specific kind of audience. Hence why the villagers find them creepy instead.

Rustica: Yeah….. Still, it gave me a mysterious feeling. It was as if I was holding the hand of a young maiden…

Bradley: Hands or gloves, it doesn’t matter. Stop fuckin’ around and kick their asses instead.

Akira: Ah.

Faust is deep in thought when the gloves begin to move silently, inching closer from behind Bradley.

With that knowledge, it takes hold of a strand of his hair and yanks forcefully.

Bradley: You, whose hair do you think yer pullin’ at!?

In an instant, Bradley stretches out his hand, but the gloves slip through the gaps between his long fingers.

And then, in a dash, they quickly escape with a whoosh, moving up and down in place as if cheering ‘Banzai!’

The other gloves present express their approval with an applause.

Rustica: My, how wonderful. Racing through the night at the speed of a shooting star, such a marvelous display of agility. Allow me to offer my own applause too.

Cain: Haha. Somehow, it feels like I’m watching a game of chase or something.

Akira: How do I say this…. They seem quite mischievous, I’m beginning to find them somewhat cute now.

Faust: Still, we can’t afford to let them run wild. Without understanding the cause or background, I can’t devise proper strategies.

Lennox: That’s right. In any case, for the time being we should use magic to catch….. Ah, Faust-sama.

Faust: What is it?

Lennox: Please stay where you are. There is something on your shoulder...

Faust: ! Say it promptly. « Salliuqnart • Mullcredo »

Without hesitation, Faust extends his hand to grasp the thing on his shoulder and begins to recite his spell.

However, the gloves immediately float up, nudging his glasses in the process.

Akira: Woah, it’s coming over here….! It’s pretty quick, isn’t it!?

I also try to reach out for the gloves, but they slip through, flying towards Rutile. Then, they start circling around him at high speed.

Rutile: W-Would you please…. be still for a moment? U…Ugh…. My head…. is spinning….

Cain: Arthur, there’s one diving into your cloak!

Arthur: Cain, your sword is being poked at too!

Cain: You’re right. Hey, back off! If my sword comes out, your fingers are gonna get cut!

Riquet: Ah, give me back that bag! I just got it from the villagers!

Akira: E-Everyone is getting caught up with the gloves….

Bradley: Tch, so damn irritating. « Adno Potensum » !

Bradley’s spell rings out, like aiming to take down a flying bird.

In that moment, the glove, which had been suspended in mid-air as if paralyzed, suddenly vanishes into the darkness.

Bradley: Hah….? It just poofed out of existence.

Arthur: « Pernoctant • Nixzo »

…It’s true. These gloves, do they lack an actual form!?

Rutile: Now that you mention it, I think it also slipped through Rustica-san and Faust-san’s fingertips a little while ago…?

Riquet: It’s like they’re ghost gloves or something….

Faust: ……..If we continue like this, we won’t get anywhere. Let's change the plan, everyone. For now, let's prioritize the safety of the village.

Lennox: I agree….. We can't keep playing cat and mouse with them until morning.

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[pat-the-togorian]

Pat's Angstpril Day 8: Mind Games

I fell back to sleep just as my alarm rang. 

I felt like each leg weighed a ton as I dragged myself to breakfast. People smiled as I passed by, and Rema, Aheka and Sinvulkt all wished me good morning. 

How could everyone just go on with life when it was all so dark?

I jumped when Sinvulkt grabbed my shoulder as we left the cantina. “Pat,” she whispered. “Something is clearly upsetting you.” 

She knew. I just knew it. 

“I… had a bad dream,” I mumbled. I couldn’t lie, afterall. 

Sinvulkt gazed at me with empathy, yet trepidation. “Your fear felt very intense,” she whispered. “If you do need to talk about it, please, go ahead.”

“But I,” I choked, cursing my emotions. “I’m not supposed to have fear!” I blurted. 

Sinvulkt shook her head. “Just another impossibility of the Jedi Order,” she grumbled, clearly upset that I’d internalized that expectation. “So what did you see?” she asked, curiously. 

As I explained my dream, her gaze darkened. 

“That sounds like more than a dream, Pat,” she mused. “It sounds like you’ve had a Seer vision.”

I’d heard briefly of Seers. And I’d never liked the idea of being one. What would compliment my anxiety better than justification? 

I slumped, laying my head in my paws. “I… just don’t want to be afraid anymore,” I whispered. 

Sinvulkt herself looked unusually torn on how to act. “The Council would want to hear about this,” she spat. “But I think you should fight the visions off,” she finished, deviously. 

“H-how do you mean?”

“Develop your awareness. Start by testing yourself during the day. ‘Reality checks’ that you can get used to, for which you’ll notice their absence when you’re asleep, like acknowledging your consciousness, flicking your arm, questioning your existence… things that never really happen in a dream. Once you can establish that you’re in a dream and not in danger, well, being brave isn’t so hard!” 

“What about the Council? Should I tell them?”

“It’s your decision, Padawan,” Sinvulkt assured me. 

“I… I suppose I’ll have to,” I drew a shaky breath, drawing myself back upright. “It’s the right thing to do, afterall,” I rationalized. 

Sinvulkt gave me an admiring eye-roll. “Right for who, Pat?” 

“W-well… if they can really learn from this, I’m glad I can help.”

The Council was indeed very interested in the discovery of a new Seer. 

“We’ll have to change your curriculum,” Shaak Ti suggested. “You should become as clearly open and as willingly suggested by the dreams as possible, in order to provide the Order with the best foresight.” Most of the others agreed eagerly.

Aheka and Plo Koon exchanged a knowing and disturbed glance. 

“Masters, would that not lead Pat down a path of worsening fear?” Aheka spoke up. 

“I-I’ll do it,” I offered, doing my best to put on a brave face. 

“Pat, you don’t have to,” Aheka growled, although I could tell it was moreso directed at the Council. 

I wanted to help the Council, for sure. The Jedi Order had already made so many allowances for me. But I wanted not to be afraid more than anything. 

I pondered for a few more seconds, and flicked my wrist.

@formeralleycat

[xpeachesncream]

how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more. 

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier.  The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body.  "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the  head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

[panda-noosh]

the game {draco x reader}

  masterlist

---

 you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.

   it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.

   it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise. 

   you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.

    you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning. 

   and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you  are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.

    you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.

    “evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”

   her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”

    “oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”

    “my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”

   draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”

   you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.

   you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future. 

   and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.

    “let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”

    you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”

   he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is. 

    draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”

    “the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”

    draco blinks, startled. 

   narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”

    the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”

    narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.  

   you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate. 

    you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.

    “so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”

    “i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”

    “i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”

   draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”

   “didn’t call you anything.”

   “you called me a muggle.”

   you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”

   he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”

    “i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”

    draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.

    “you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”

    you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”

    “i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”

   “he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”

    “and what if i tell him?”

   the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously. 

    he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”

   “are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”

    draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”

    narcissa simply scowls.

    you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.

   ----

    it gets easier over time.

    all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.

    it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.

    you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.

   tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.

    you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.

    you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.

   you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.

  ----   

   “he’s back.”

   like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.

   you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”

    but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.

    “i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”

   you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.

    breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.

    his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.

   you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.

    you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it. 

    breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students. 

   but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.

    instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.

    his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob. 

    “where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.

    “class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”

   “not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”

    you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts. 

    “he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”

   draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”

    you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”

    “it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”

    you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”

    “shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”

    “all i need to do is pick up a history book.”

   draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.

    “i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”

    “i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”

    draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”

   “the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”

    his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.

    “you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”

   “my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”

    you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions. 

    you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

   you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.

    your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again. 

    you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.

   ----

     charms class really is a pain.

   flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.

   but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.

   today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.

   it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.

    by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”

   “please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.

   you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.

    as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.

    he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.

   “can i help you?” you ask. 

    “yes.”

   you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.

    you grit your teeth. “with what?”

    “i need an electric scooter.”

    you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .

   you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”

    “to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”

    you like the sound of that.

   “i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”

    bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”

   your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.

   still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-

    draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.

   you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.

    bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.

   “what the hell?”

    “what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”

   you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm. 

    he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.

    in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

    god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.

    “again,” you say. “what the hell?”

   “i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”

    “excuse me?”

   “you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”

    you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.

   but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.

   you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”

    draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”

   “stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”

    “do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”

    a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.

    “i just can’t believe you were so careless.”

   “why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question. 

   you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”

   “because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”

    your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.

    but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.

   instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t. 

    you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.

   you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.

    there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.

   but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free. 

   --- 

    you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.

    but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

    he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you. 

    classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.

    alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.

    you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.

   that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.

   but the yelling never came.

   draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night. 

   he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.

   you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut. 

    the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-

   and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.

   you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him. 

    finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”

   “good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”

   he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.

   “what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box. 

    “you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”

    you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”

    draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”

    “nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”

    “ouch. that one hurt.”

   you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”

   “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

   “not like you care, though, is it?”

    draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.

    “you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.

   “you think?”

    “i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”

   you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”

    he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”

    “is that meant to be an apology?”

   “how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him. 

    you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.

   but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else. 

   “you hurt my feelings,” you mumble. 

   draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”

    “well, you did. congratulations.”   

   “jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”

   you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.

    but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”

    “go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”

    “y/n-”

   “go, draco!”

    he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.

    ---

     the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.

   muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.

    tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.

    you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.

    it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless. 

    a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.

   you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-

   he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.

    a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.

   gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”

    “did you just try and rob me?” he yells.

   “no! no, of course-”

    “you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.

    his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.

    “son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”

    “before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”

    your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”

    the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.

    you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”

   “are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid. 

   “oh. i guess i am.”

   “christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.

   you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”

    “clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”

    “he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”

   draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.

   you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.

    she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.

    “what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”

   “oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”

    “be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body. 

   narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.

   “sorry about this.”

   narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”

   “put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

    “you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”

    “i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”

    “draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”

   draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad. 

   narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard. 

    “i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”

    “who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”

    “no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”

   he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”

   “so i’m sorry.”

   draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”

   you blink. “alright.”

    “you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”

    your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”

    “yeah. i think you would.”

   you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”

    “you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”

    your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.

    despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”

   “don’t say it.”

   his lips twist. “i have to.”

   “no you don’t.”

    “do you love me?”

    your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.

    but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.

    you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks. 

     slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away. 

     “cat got your tongue?” he whispers.

    you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”

    “it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”

    “you want the truth?”

   he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.

    “yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”

     slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”

    but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.

    but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain. 

    you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.

   you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.

   shit.

   “don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

   “i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”

    “kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”

    draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”

    you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.

    it doesn’t.

   “oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”

    he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.

    but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.

    “you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.

   your eyes widen. “hey!”

   “kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”

   you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.

   he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”

   “i still don’t believe you.”

   he raises a brow. “why?”

   you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”

    his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.” 

   before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.

   you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.

    he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.

    you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

     “so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”

   draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”

   “don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”

   “you could have.”

   “but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”

   “are you two arguing again?”

   you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco. 

   “i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”

    you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”

    he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”

   “yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”

   “yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.

   draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”

    “oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”

   you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look. 

   you wonder if he’s doing the same. 

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 37

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 16.9k(? i think?) ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba chapter specific warnings: talks of torture, talks of past self-harm, nothing directly graphic all mentioned through conversation, graphic depiction of a panic attack ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part four

​​​

“I’m going to kill the king, Hyunwoo.”

“Y/N, you can’t… that’s going too far.”

“I don’t think we have a choice any longer.”

“We always have a choice, Y/N. It’s just about what you decide to do with that choice that matters. Think about why you’re doing what you’re doing, and what your intentions truly are. It’s not about revenge or payment for a crime — the crimes of his people cannot be put onto his shoulders.”

A sigh passes through your lips, one that sounds more exasperated than anything else, and Hyunwoo lifts a brow upon hearing the noise.

“This is revenge, Hyunwoo. He allowed my past to be taken, he created the law that allows the military to do that. Not to mention the other crimes he has committed — even if they are a result of him sitting idly by and watching them happen. I’m not saying Jisung is always right or that he is a saint for wanting to do this. But if Jisung won’t commit to doing it, then I’ll do it for him.”

“And we swore to find a way to get those memories back, Y/N. Don’t let this cloud your judgment. Don’t let your devotion to making Jisung happy decide your future. If this is something he wants, then he should do it himself and face the consequences on his own! It’s not a burden that you should bear as well. I know this is something you will come to regret!”

“Then you’ll have to stop me with force because I’ve already made my mind up about this. I don’t see Jisung getting in my way right now. But after all, isn’t this what he wants? He’s just too much of a coward to do the dirty work himself!”

“We both know where he stands on this, which is precisely why he’s not here. Just — please let us try one more time. I’ve spoken with a few of my off-planet contacts about this, and we have one last idea that might reverse the effects of the serum. You know how difficult this is; the military keeps such a tight wrap on everything about the serum. It’s near impossible to just get a spare vial, and even harder to examine how it works with test subjects while still being ethical. We are trying our best, I promise, just please hold out a little while longer. Jisung is getting things set up now… so please… just come with me and try before you do anything drastic.”

The man extends a hand, palm facing towards the ceiling and fingers outstretched for you to take. There’s hope in his eyes, a hope you haven’t seen from him in a long time, and that look is what brings your feet forward. You place your palm over his and curl your fingers tight around the side of his hand. He squeezes back as a small grin overtakes his lips.

“If this doesn’t work, then you know what I have to do, Hyunwoo.”

“I know,” he whispers. The hope in his eyes flickers a little, like a flame hit by a gust of wind. “In that case, I’ll do whatever I have to so that you don’t come to regret that decision.”

“Hey, get up. It’s go time.”

You wake with a start, not fully come out of the memory that paints the insides of your eyelids until you look around at your surroundings. Yeosang seems to be the one who woke you seeing as his hand is still outstretched to your arm. The sight of him brings you back to reality and reminds you of where you are and what exactly is going on. Jongho sits on your other side, dressed in nicer clothes than you’ve ever seen him wear before — a pleated and pristine navy suit complete with a bright yellow tie and hair gelled back on his head. Yeosang too wears a somewhat expensive garb although he appears more natural in the silk tunic covering his torso. His naturally dark roots are starting to peek through the blond near his scalp, accentuating the harsh part down the middle of his head.

Despite the fact that both look relatively harmless in this state, you know they each have weapons hidden somewhere on their person underneath that formal wear, just as you do with the knives strapped over your thighs under the skirt attached to your waist. Such an outfit like yours is something you hardly agreed to — it was moreso an insistence on Seonghwa’s part to at least dress the part (although he had to listen to some of your incessant nagging about how you could never fight in a dress so he had to settle on finding a substitute in the form of a jumpsuit with a skirt wrapped around the back. Yet the more you pick at the seams and touch the fabric, the more you recall the none too pleasant conversation you and Seonghwa shared as you were preparing to leave for the mission.

“Perhaps I do have an eye for beauty after all, or is it that you simply look breathtaking in anything?” Seonghwa stands in the doorway to your bedroom, not a mind for privacy as he watches you struggle to tug the zipper of your suit up.

“Can’t even breathe on my own, huh?” You huff out as you drop the zipper in defeat.

“I’ve already seen every inch of you, have I not? There’s nothing to hide that I haven’t seen before,” Seonghwa says through a laugh. He watches your cheeks flush with color before dropping his arms to his side and coming closer to you. He remains wordless as he pulls your zipper up for you, smoothing the fabric under his fingers down once it’s pulled up to your neck. “It suits you. Things like this, I mean. The silk makes you look… softer, yet the color combination of black and white makes you look lethal. Perfect definition of beauty, no? That something so delicate could also kill you? A wonderful dichotomy in my eyes.”

“Someone is in a poetic mood today.” You don’t hide the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, but Seonghwa doesn’t seem all too bothered by your show of faux-annoyance. Instead, his hands find your hips and turn you to face him directly, staring so intently into your eyes with his own dark ones that you lose the rest of your retort.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to go on this mission so desperately but that didn’t quite work out.” You’re quick to shake your head, already in the midst of denying his words before he even finishes his sentence.

“It’s alright. I’ll have Yeosang and Jongho there with me.”

“I would go if only Hongjoong would let me bu—” The thought cuts short as you place a hand over his forearm.

“Seonghwa, it’s okay. Hongjoong is right to have you stay here while you’re not 100% better. And you can both keep an eye on Jisung this way. We’ll bring Wooyoung back as quickly as possible, I swear.” Instead of consoling the man, your words seem to have an opposite effect as he drops his gaze to the floor.

“If I were stronger, this wouldn’t even be an issue. You should not have had to waste so much time having to look after my fragile and weak mental state when you could have caught up to the ship sooner and had all three of them back in one go.”

“This is what we’re working with, Hwa. It has nothing to do with your welfare. We still would have been too late regardless of whether that night had happened or not. So please — it will all work out and be okay. It has to.”

Seonghwa’s smile is quaint, a small twitch of his lips, then he’s leaning in to close the distance between your lips. You lift your hand to push hard against his chest, furthering that distance before he gets the chance to meet your lips with his.

“I just put on this black lipstick and you already want to mess it up? How rude,” you scoff. That isn’t a real reason, and you both know it, and you only solidify that further when you speak next before biting your tongue. “You shouldn’t push it right now. I still haven’t forgiven you for not fighting my decision to go with Jisung. Besides wasn’t the decision to… stop whatever this is mutual?”

“It was, of course,” he murmurs back, not quite meeting your eyes. “I am merely a creature of habit, so it will take some time for me to adjust to this change. But… Y/N, might I be so bold as to ask you something?”

“Hm, isn’t that a question right there?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” You regard him with a small nod but pull away so that his hands drop to his sides again. “Were any of the feelings you had for me something real and tangible? Not just because of what we are and that comfort of both being Sirens, I mean.”

You should have known he would bring this up eventually, especially with how the two of you are constantly dancing around each other and the topic. Still, you aren’t ready for it.

“I… don’t think I know the answer to that question, but even if I did, I-I might not be able to answer with complete honesty.” The smile that comes to paint Seonghwa’s lips is nothing short of sad and painful, not quite reaching his bright eyes with its usual mirth.

“It’s a conversation I wish for us to have one day, but I too fear that I might not be able to be completely honest either. Perhaps — perhaps we got a little too caught up in the heat of things without truly thinking about why we were doing the things we were doing.”

“Why did you do it then? I was the one who gave the initial push, I started things, I claim responsibility for that, but you pulled right back. So why?”

“I have found time to think about such things quite a bit lately since I was left in the medbay alone for so long; however, now is not the time to talk about that as it would take too long. Has Wooyoung brought you back yet?”

“No, not since the night in the medbay. But San very clearly said three days until they would land on Dorado, and it’s been six since then. They should be there by now, and the deals should have gone through. Wooyoung’s was to be immediate after all.” Seonghwa’s smile drops into a half-hearted scowl.

“Without Wooyoung on the inside, we will have no way of knowing where San and Mingi are.”

“Unless Jisung decides to be kind with his information.” You run a hand through your hair, mussing the already down tresses enough to be somewhat noticeable. “We’ll have to make do.” Seonghwa stretches across the empty space between you

“I won’t keep you any longer then. Tell the others good luck from me, and please… be careful? No unnecessary risks if you can avoid them. I’d like to see you all back in one piece.”

Reality swoops in on you as Jongho places a firm hand over your thigh.

“You alright? I can practically feel you thinking so hard.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Just… wondering about the mission.”

“It’ll be okay,” Jongho murmurs, squeezing at your leg a little tighter. “It’s a straightforward mission — easy in and out.”

“Hopefully.” Yeosang is the one to hum the word but he doesn’t look at either of you as he speaks. “Once we’re in, I’ll talk to the main desk and ask for someone with Wooyoung’s general appearance. It’ll be a bit difficult because they will have given a new name — something a prostitute would have. I’m not sure how many people in there will have similar appearances to Wooyoung but we’ll have to do our best. You two remember what you’re supposed to do?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Follow suit, wait fifteen minutes for you to pass through the reception area, then ask the same thing. A male short in stature with black hair and tanned skin. All prostitutes have collar so it won’t be Wooyoung’s defining feature any longer.” The recitation rolls off your tongue with ease after having heard Yeosang repeat it so many times by now. He nods in approval nonetheless.

“Remember there are cameras in each of the rooms. Don’t know how they use them but it’s something to be aware of. Hopefully, one of us will be able to come across Wooyoung, and in the case that you do?”

“We are to stay in the room with him for the allotted time, ping back to the ship and let Hongjoong know we have him, then wait for his signal,” Jongho responds. “His contact here on Dorado will be hacking their surveillance systems once we are certain that we have Wooyoung in a safe position.”

“Hongjoong sure seems to have a lot of contacts for someone who doesn’t trust people,” you murmur more to yourself than to anyone else, but Yeosang picks up on it nonetheless.

“His contacts are few and far between. This is one he has known since before he became a captain, so he holds a bit more trust with him. Back to the plan though, after his contact confirms our safety, you’ll crack a window and hop out hopefully unscathed. Remember that the Upper Echelon of Dorado is tight on security. Whoever gets Wooyoung out will have to be mindful of guards and try not to look suspicious. If any guards stop you, do not engage with violence. Simply do as they ask you to and tell them that Wooyoung is your slave. And one last thing: don’t forget we’ll be going in silent so keep a close eye on your wristbands. Understood?”

“Clear as day,” Jongho says while you offer only a hasty nod.

“Good, stay sharp then. We’ll be landing soon, and it’ll be go time immediately after that.” With that, Yeosang sits back and shuts his eyes, leaving you and Jongho to stew over the plan again in silence. At least until you decide you can’t take it anymore and turn to talk to the Berserker again.

“Are you nervous at all about the mission?”

A shrug.

“No more than usual. Recovering Wooyoung won’t be easy by any means, of course. It’s a step in the right direction, right? How are you feeling?” As though sensing your nerves, he pats your thigh a few times, and you simply stare down at the dirty floor beneath your feet.

“I feel a bit guilty in a way because I’m not too worried about the mission,” you admit, albeit quietly because you aren’t sure how please Yeosang would be to hear the words. “The only thing that is on my mind right now is how San is doing and if he’s okay.” Although you told Seonghwa otherwise, the sudden radio silence that Wooyoung has given you has made you anxious to an unspeakable degree. And not having the security of being able to see San through Wooyoung’s eyes is plaguing you more than you’d like to admit.

“I understand that,” Jongho says through a deep exhale. “I feel the same way about Mingi right now honestly. No matter how much faith and trust I have in Mingi, that fear always lingers and resides in me.”

“That’s how I feel about San. I shouldn’t be worried about him but part of me is just fearful that we won’t make it in time. That he’ll accept the serum before we can get him out.”

Jongho brings his hand up to take hold of one of yours, squeezing around your palm as tight as he can without hurting you.

“I know San better than I know anyone on the crew, besides Mingi perhaps. I’ve spent years at San’s side. He was the only person who trusted me at first and trusted me enough to let me in. That trauma he bears, the scars on his past, the red in his ledger, those lingering pains that resurfaced when the mutiny happened — I have felt them all. I spent months at the foot of his bed, taking what pain I could away for as long as I could, just existing to comfort him and help him get through even one more night. And in that myriad of emotions I felt from San, not once did I ever feel him desire to take it all away. Those scars he bears are part of him, and he treats them as such. Something like… small accessories on a bigger picture that he won’t let go of. So no matter what happens, I have confidence that San won’t let them win. He’s far too stubborn for that, his heart is too big, he has too much love in his body for such a thing. He would rather die before he forgets the crew, and that fact alone makes me confident that San will hold out.”

You are left in the wake of Jongho’s words for too long, letting them crawl under your skin and find a home there. You count the seconds that pass before your voice finds you again.

“I understand that.” Forty-one seconds. “It’s just the fear of him being hurt when I’m not around to stop it that is hard to get past.” Jongho’s smile is nothing if not soft and gentle, the epitome of understanding.

“In our line of work, that fear is always present. It’s always a possibility too, but at some point, you reach a point where you accept that sometimes, you won’t always be able to save someone from all pain. Just because you can’t prevent every ounce of pain doesn’t mean that you are doing something wrong or that you’re not doing enough.” Jongho pauses. Some emotion fills his red eyes and leaves them swimming with something unspoken. “There are some pains that we must allow to happen, no matter how much we wish to do the opposite. Even something as horrid as pain can be necessary and needed to move forward in life. Try not to dwell on it too much and focus on Wooyoung for now, yeah?”

“I’m trying my best,” you sigh and drop your head back against the seat. The second your thoughts begin to drift, you are brought back to another memory, this time one of Hongjoong’s dark office with Seonghwa at your side.

“You punched Jisung in the face?”

“Please, I let him off easy,” you huff back, ignoring the lieutenant’s slight shock in favor of finding interest in the wall.

“That’s not the important part,” Hongjoong cuts in from where he sits behind his desk. You shift to glance over the captain. “Does Jisung know anything about you being a Siren?”

“No, not that I recall,” you mutter after little thought. “I never slept with him or anything like that, and I can’t remember him ever seeing my back so it’s safe to assume he doesn’t know. Besides who would just see tattoos and immediately assume ‘Siren’?”

“Then his interest in you has nothing to do with you being a Siren?”

“Exactly, but why is that important? I can tell you why he wants me if that’s what you’re curious about.”

“We’re just eliminating suspicions right now.” Hongjoong shifts his focus to where Seonghwa stands. He wears a bit of a cocky grin as they stare at each other, both feet slung up on the edge of his desk and one brow raised. “See? Jin has nothing to do with this.”

“That doesn’t eliminate the possibility altogether!” Seonghwa retorts. A frown mars his otherwise pretty features, twisting his lips into a scowl so deep that you feel your own muscles ache at the sight of it.

“You live your life in fear of Seokjin. For what? Do you not trust me to keep you safe?”

“That isn’t it and you know it, Joong. I will not sabotage your plans simply because of what I am. That is why we keep my identity to be a closely-guarded secret yet our number one enemy knows of that identity. That is a weakness, and it’s one that you need to take seriously.”

“Why is that? Sheltering you would be more suspicious to the crew than anything else. Unless you would like to inform them of your identity? Allow me to call them all right this instant.”

“No! No, Hongjoong, I — fine. Have it your way. Keep believing that you’ll be able to fix where Jin went wrong by ignoring the issue altogether because th—”

“That’s enough.” You bristle at the tone of the captain’s voice even though he is not speaking directly to you. “I’m still on edge as well, Hwa, and I know you are as well. I know why you are too, but please have at least a little faith in me. Now, Y/N—” Hongjoong turns back to you now “—I’d like to ask about the nightmares you had that night.”

Your initial response is to inhale sharply and glance over at Seonghwa with panic boiling in your gut.

“Why do you want to know?”

All Hongjoong does is roll his eyes and drop his feet off the side of his desk. You purse your lips at the action, watching him with wary eyes as he shifts his position to prop his elbows up on the same wood.

“Seonghwa, you’re dismissed.”

“I — Captain?”

“Dismissed, Lieutenant. I need to speak with her in private.”

“Why is it something I cannot be present for?”

“That was an order, not a suggestion. Now go.” If possible, the temperature of the room would drop ten degrees. Seonghwa seems to want to retort further but he bites his lip instead. Then, he gives a quick bow at the waist and mutters a goodbye before slipping out of the office without any further issue. “What did your nightmares consist of?” Hongjoong repeats, arching a brow as he speaks this time as though it will get you to talk faster.

“You didn’t have to get me alone to ask me that, did you? What is this really about?” The questions flow without hesitation, and your second refusal to talk about the dreams draws a sigh from Hongjoong’s lips.

“Do you know anything of Seonghwa’s relationship with his mother, Y/N?” A beat of silence. You shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing away from the captain to find interest in something on the floor.

“I… did witness a few of his memories when the two of us were still with each other in the dreams, but — if you mean to ask me about his nightmares, I have nothing to offer. I didn’t see those at all.”

“No, he already told me all about those nightmares. I don’t need to know more of them,” Hongjoong exhales with a shake of his head. He draws his arms up over his chest as he talks, falling back to slump in his chair and letting his exhaustion shine through. “Initially, I was going to have Seonghwa go with Yeosang and Jongho on this mission. But now, that plan has changed and I will be sending you instead.”

“Why?”

“I can’t send Seonghwa down to Lynder unless I myself can be at his side the entire time. There is far too much of a risk if I am unable to do that.”

“Risk? Of what? He would be with Yeosang and Jongho, would he not?”

“Yet if even the barest whim overcomes him, they would have to listen to whatever he says because of his position as lieutenant. I am the only one with more power than him, and as such, he has to listen to me. If he goes to Lynder, the risk is of him abandoning the mission to seek out his mother.”

“That doesn’t sound like something he would do at all,” you counter. Both you and Hongjoong drop your chins at the same time, although yours is more of an accusatory and pointed action compared to the slumping defeat that comes over Hongjoong’s body when he lowers his head.

“I don’t know how much or what exactly you saw in Seonghwa’s memories. I do not need to know either. But something you need to know is that we have been back to Lynder exactly once since I met Seonghwa there. And that one single time, two years ago, we had to lock Seonghwa in the brig for six days straight to keep him from breaking out to kill his mother. Seonghwa tore cuts into his arms and shoulders so deep that Yunho had to come stitch him every night until we finally chained him to a wall to get him to stop. When he finally gave up on trying to break out, I went in and took the cuffs off, only for Seonghwa to choke me hard enough to fracture my neck and leave bruises that lasted for several weeks.”

“A-Ah…” The sound of your dry swallow echoes in your ears. It’s hard to imagine Seonghwa — cool, rigid, stoic, gentle and calm Seonghwa — ever being so depraved and rabid as to harm himself as well as Hongjoong. Seonghwa, whose greatest fear is losing his captain. Yet the grave expression coating Hongjoong’s delicate features remains serious and deadpan, and you know every word is one that holds a memory that is painful to recall. He’s telling the truth.

“Have you ever had that voice in your head telling you to be cruel, Y/N?”

“Of course I have,” you admit through a whisper, like the words are going to break the threads of tension hanging in the air.

“Seonghwa has lost his will and his mind to that voice time and time again, and it gave him his reputation as the Lieutenant of Death. Mingi may be a slave to a childhood which bred him to be a monster, but Seonghwa? He’s a slave to his own consciousness, the part of him that spent years trying to be perceived as an Elitist so that he could hide what he really is, someone cold and calculated without an ounce of remorse or emotion. He put his own monsters under the bed, but now he can’t get them out.”

Hongjoong sits up a bit straighter all of a sudden. His gaze is still unfocused and hazy though, refusing to look you straight in the eye. Either subconsciously or through the fog of that revisited memory, Hongjoong lifts a hand to his neck and rubs idly at the skin there.

“My Seon—Lieutenant is strong, but strength isn’t worth a damn thing when the person you’re fighting is yourself. He admitted to me once that the thought of letting that voice win is more terrifying than the act of killing his own mother. So for that reason, I can never allow such a thing to happen. Seonghwa’s demons are nothing if not rabid dogs begging for a pound of flesh, and if he can’t fight them on his own, I’ll do it for him.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” Jongho yet again brings you back to reality, most likely a bit disturbed by the way you are squeezing his hand tight enough to hurt, but he takes it without complaint. “You keep drifting out of focus.”

“Yes,” you say, filling your chest with air when you remember to breathe properly again. “Everything is fine.” Rather than responding with words, Jongho just places his other hand over your joined ones and brings them to rest on his thigh. If you listen closely enough, you’re able to hear him humming a soft melody under his breath but the rumble of the transport car covers most of the sound up. Still, it’s a relaxing sound that brings you some much-needed peace of mind for the remainder of the ride.

And as it turns out, Yeosang wasn’t bluffing when he said the three of you would be there soon because you had barely started listening to Jongho’s soft song when the car comes to a screeching halt that leaves you lurching forward.

“Alright then.” Yeosang stands first, hands smoothing down the fabric of his tunic even though it’s still perfectly in place. It’s not against his nature to get nervous or anxious, but it is still odd to witness like this. He is usually stoic in an unsettling way yet the grim expression he now wears is only accentuated by the crude shadows cast over his face. “It’s go time. Let’s get Wooyoung back in one piece, yeah?”

With that, the three of you climb out of the vehicle to be greeted by a dark and pristine city with thick clouds of smoke billowing through the air below you. Looking over the lip of the road is like looking down a cliff with the dramatic fall to the lower portion of the city. You weren’t exactly prepared to see such a drastic difference between the upper and lower echelons, yet looking over that cliff is like looking into a different city altogether with wooden buildings and decrepit warehouses that can barely hold themselves together. Where you stand with Yeosang and Jongho feels like a different world altogether with roads lined with lights and technology, tall buildings made from wood with exquisite carvings detailing the sides. From what you saw of the city in Seonghwa’s memories, Lynder has not changed one bit since he was here last.

You can’t clearly see many of the buildings below your feet, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering which one could possibly be that bar where Seonghwa met Hongjoong, if it even still exists. Jongho pulls you away from the road by the arm, tugging you along behind him as you approach a new building. The swaying wooden panel outside the door is a dead giveaway, but it’s the absurd amount of lilies trailing over the railings that tells you what this place is.

“They weren’t bluffing with the House of Lilies name,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose a bit at the overwhelming stench. Yeosang has grown alarmingly still; he lingers outside the tall double doors with a hand hovering over the brass handles without budging even an inch for far too long. You could pretend to not know why he’s hesitating, you could act like he is merely holding you back and push past him in annoyance, yet instead, you find yourself laying a hand atop his shoulder and squeezing the fabric there lightly. “No matter what happens in there or what we find in there, we will bring Wooyoung out alive.”

Yeosang releases a shaky exhale that makes his shoulder quake under your fingers.

“I know we will.” He looks past your face to make eye contact with Jongho then gives a curt nod. “Here goes the first fifteen minutes of hell.” The Elitist pushes hard against the brass handles, and the door gives way to his effort.

If you thought the smell outside the House was horrid, you don’t even know how to describe the reeking stench of flowers that hits you with the force of a tsunami. It’s thick enough for you to feel as though you are wading through a sea of flowers when in reality it’s just a strange yellow haze hanging about the interior. Yeosang doesn’t let the smell affect him in the slightest; he walks inside without missing a beat, shoulders pushed back so far it nearly hurts to see. Despite that, he walks like a prince, like someone who knows how to act in high society with ease, and for the first time, you don’t see Kang Yeosang before you. Instead, it’s Kang Minhee, the forgotten prince of Aera, who walks before you and heads for the front desk where a middle-aged woman with dramatic hair and hefty makeup stands.

“We should mingle a bit and look natural,” Jongho whispers when the two of you stop just inside the doors. “May I?” He motions to your arm with a small smile, not saying anything else and leaving you confused.

“May you…?”

“Quit being dense and give me your arm,” he huffs back and extends his elbow for you to loop your arm through, and this time, you get the hint, hooking your hand around the inside of his arm. Yeosang shifts to look back at both of you as you pass, and you offer each other discreet nods before he returns to speaking to the receptionist.

You let Jongho lead the way for the most part since you aren’t sure what you’re supposed to be doing outside of “looking normal”, although even doing that is somewhat difficult. Jongho doesn’t stray far from the entrance area until Yeosang dips into a hallway and out of sight without looking back at the two of you. Moments later your wristbands buzz, signaling that it’s time for the first fifteen-minute countdown to begin. Jongho shifts to fiddle with his wristband while you keep your hand folded over his elbow still. It gives you a chance to glance around the whorehouse without the distraction of having to act normal, but frankly, there isn’t much to see beyond the bodies filling the foyer and mingling about the lounge before you. There are flowers everywhere — probably an overabundance of them, and they aren’t just lilies as they were outside. You can’t pinpoint whether those flowers are the source of the clawingly sweet scent stuck to the insides of your nostrils or not, but that yellow fog seems partially responsible to some degree.

“You seem to know how to look like you belong in high society,” you mutter once Jongho pulls his attention back to your surroundings. A huff of laughter leaves his lips.

“It’s not because I grew up that way. I was merely an observant child who wanted to grow up and have more than what I had.” A smile cracks his stony expression. “Isn’t that what all children want?”

“I—”

Well, you wouldn’t really know, would you?

Jongho’s expression softens as he realizes what he’s said and who he has said it to, and his gaze turns apologetic seconds later. He turns to flag down one of the workers milling about with drinks, taking two glasses of what looks like wine in one hand. Jongho angles one of the half-full flutes in your direction. You take the hint with relative ease despite the clawing scent of flowers still muddling your thoughts.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” Jongho says through what seems to be a sympathetic smile. “What do you think your childhood was like? If you don’t mind talking about such things. We have time to kill after all.”

You draw your lips into a tight purse, curling them around the edge of the wine glass and pressing an imprint of your dark lipstick there. Subconsciously, your hand tightens around the inside of Jongho’s arm as well, although the Berserker doesn’t comment on the added pressure as he simply continues to regard you with the same steely and careful gaze.

“I think it must have been rather sad,” you admit after some thought. It must not be the answer Jongho was expecting at all because his brows draw together in confusion. “What kind of childhood must one have for them to willingly sell away their memories by fourteen? The more I think… about that time — when they gave me the serum — I recall fighting the doctors but I don’t think it was because I didn’t know what they were doing. I’m certain that I knew my memories would be taken from me. It was the act of them strapping me to a chair like a prisoner that frightened me.”

This time when Jongho smiles, all you can see is pain in his deep red eyes.

“I would have given anything in the universe to have my memories taken away at that age too, if it’s of any comfort to you.” He pauses to swirl the liquid in his glass, watching the red liquor dance before his eyes under the yellow haze around your bodies. “Don’t think you’re weak for wanting to forget that past. No child should ever deal with pains that strong, even if you can’t remember what they are.”

“People like you… San, Mingi… the whole crew honestly — how can I not view myself as weak in comparison? People who were given the choice but denied it and rejected it unlike me, who apparently didn’t want to be left with some shred of dignity. What did I become with that fresh slate they gave me? All I could do then was be weak, but it seems like that hasn’t changed one bit.”

Jongho won’t let up with that devastating smile, and you are about to turn away so that you don’t have to see it any longer when he finally lets it fall.

“For what it’s worth, you are rather strong in my eyes. During your fight with Jisung, I’ll admit that I tried to ease some of your pain then. It’s not something you know about — the others know of it by now so I should have told you sooner and I’m sorry for that but I have a special mutation in my genes that gives me the ability to take away and absorb emotional auras. I inherited it from one of my grandparents so it’s something I grew up learning how to use and I carried that over when I joined the crew. I attempted to do that with you because you were in so much distress and I was worried but — b-but your pain was too much for even me to bear. So before you go around calling yourself weak, you ought to give yourself more credit. Just because the pains you bear are different doesn’t mean that they are any less than the pains the rest of us bear.”

Jongho doesn’t say anything more than that; he slings his wine back in one shot like it’s nothing then places the now empty glass on a waiter’s tray as he’s passing by. You don’t touch your own, mulling over the glass as you fall deep in thought. If Jongho could feel that much from you, then it begs the question of what else he might be able to feel from you.

Can he sense that I’m a Siren too? Would he be able to tell that Seonghwa and Wooyoung are Sirens as well?

Your mind shifts to latch onto something else he said. Your pain was too much for even me to bear.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Stand down,” he murmurs. “You need to pick your battles, and this is not one for you to fight right now.” Again you feel that pull of warmth coming from him, like someone is trying to pull something from your chest, but it retracts almost instantaneously. Jongho falters. His eyes squeeze shut harshly, face contorting with something that almost looks like pain in your eyes, but that lasts less than a second before he’s recovered again. It’s not enough to stop the onslaught of emotions coursing through your veins.

You had been too preoccupied at the time to think about that moment until now.

“That time — did I hurt you? When you tried to take it away, did I hurt you even a little bit?”

“Nothing you did hurt me, Y/N. It wasn’t your fault, I promise you didn’t do anything. It’s something I have done time and time again for others on the crew and something I would do again as well. It’s what I’m good at, and something I was born with for a reason. If it helps even a little bit, then why would I not take the temporary pain?”

Every fiber of your being is telling you to fight those words, to tell him that it’s not worth it, your pain should not be a burden he has to bear as well, yet no words fall from your lips. Your mouth stutters uselessly without saying anything, and Jongho just keeps smiling like nothing is wrong. The clenching in your chest is not fine, however, and you force yourself to turn away from him in the hopes it will alleviate that pain. Instead, your eyes travel to a head of bright red hair that is so starkly different than anything else in the room that you have to stare right at it. It would be nothing odd or out of the ordinary to you since the crew you are now part of has such a wide array of hair colors. It would be something you look right past without much thought.

And yet you find yourself staring right at it. Right at the girl who turns to look around the lounge with red hair sweeping through the air.

You jolt.

Something hits your shoulder hard enough to tip your drink over and spill some of the red wine onto the floor. Your hand retracts from Jongho’s arm to touch the knife hidden behind the fabric of your skirt. You’re forced to pull your gaze away from the girl, finding the man who bumped into you to just be a stumbling drunk man with little sense for spatial awareness and direction. Jongho wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you a bit closer to his body. The man continues on without any regard for you or the wine he just spilled. Jongho takes your glass with his free hand, discarding it at the nearest flat surface before redirecting his focus back to you.

“It’s okay, Y/N, everything is okay.”

“I’m fine,” you murmur back, but your gaze goes straight back to where that redhead just stood.

“You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Instinct tells you to stay put and continue on with the mission, putting that familiar face to the back of your mind. But again your heart is clenching painfully in your chest, racing so fast that you feel the pounds echoing in your ears, and you know you can’t let go of her that easily. Not when she’s this close to you.

“I think I did.” You pull away from Jongho to go chasing through the crowd after that red hair, but the Berserker moves with you in a rush.

“Y/N, we can’t get off track. There’s only six minutes until it’s your turn to go to the counter.”

You wave him off with a dismissive hand rather than responding with words. Moments later, you find your target again, just as she is turning to head for the hallway that Yeosang went down not too long ago.

“Soojin?” You throw the name out as a last resort, mostly a desperate attempt to see if you are right and your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you in this heady yellow haze.

She freezes in place. It gives you just enough time to shove past the crowd and get closer to where she stands. You close your fingers around her shoulder, tugging with as little force as possible so that she turns to face you. There’s not a doubt in your mind when you see her face. She seems to recognize you as well based on the way her eyes are blown wide as saucers. The girl — well, you suppose she would be a woman by now — glances past your shoulder to look at Jongho. Her throat rolls as she swallows around nothing.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” Soojin whispers, bringing her gaze back down to you. She dips her head a bit then pulls away from you to head down the hall. You think back to Jisung — the threats and odd comments he made combined with the newly resurfaced memories of Hyunwoo lingering at the forefront of your mind, and you know without a shadow of a doubt that you can’t let her go this easily.

“P-Please, Soojin — I need to talk with you. It’s important, please, I have so many questions and no one else to ask.”

“I’m sure you do, little scapegoat,” she huffs back. “I actually have work to do though and a client waiting for me, so I’m not all too inclined to speak with you. I’m not sure why you came here, but I don’t think I have the answers you’re looking for either.” You don’t have a chance to keep her from leaving after that because she turns and leaves so quickly that it leaves you reeling. Jongho tugs you back by the arm, pulling you from the hallway and out into the lounge again before you can chase after her.

“What the hell was that?” He hisses under his breath.

“She — I-I knew her. She w-was my teammate, one of the p-people assigned to my unit in the military. I… I had no idea she ended up here of all places. Jongho, I have to talk to her, please, I have to. This c-could be what I need! If Jisung won’t tell me the truth, then maybe she knows something. She has to know something o-or else I—”

Your voice dies in your throat, but your unspoken desperation seems to reach Jongho nonetheless. The key to whatever memories you lost could lie in Soojin. Things happened so quickly at the end, perhaps she learned of something before leaving Eros with the others.

“She called you a scapegoat,” Jongho says. He swallows hard, Adam’s Apple bobbing with the motion. “What was that about?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t gotten that far. You didn’t even think to question that part but it is odd and not something you recall her calling you in the past.

“I’m not sure why she would say that. All the more reason to speak to her and ask. Jongho, please!” You attempt to pull away from his grip as you speak. The Berserker doesn’t budge, too strong for you to fight like this, and he doesn’t let up even when you try to slap his hand away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He yanks you back to him and brings his free hand up to rest on your forehead. This time, you can physically feel the panic in your bones ebbing away and being pulled to your forehead where Jongho touches you. It’s a frightening sensation but the influence he has over you takes that fear away as well, leaving you in a daze of confusion because you know you should feel bothered right now but you cannot bring yourself to feel that way even as Jongho pulls away from you. His jaw twitches just a hair, not moving much beyond that, then he grits his teeth to hiss out his next words. “Wooyoung is our mission. You have to focus. You have two minutes to get up to that counter and do your job. We can try to track down your teammate later, but not on a mission like this.”

You have it in you to at least be angry enough to tug your arm out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch my emotions like that again. I understand you trying to take my pain, and as much as I hate that and despite the thought of you taking my pains for me, this is different. Emotionally sedating me for the sake of completing a mission better is different.”

You don’t give him a chance to reply before you’re heading off for the counter where Yeosang stood not too long ago. The woman who previously occupied the space behind it has disappeared, now replaced by a young man who must be younger than you from the looks of it.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” He asks as you sidle up to the desk.

“I’d like a room, an hour’s worth.” You fumble a bit with your pockets as you try to fish a credit chip out without exposing the knife strapped to your thigh, but the boy doesn’t look up until you slide the chip across the counter.

“Of course, of course,” he hums. “Do you have any preferences for pleasure tonight?”

“A male short in stature with black hair and tanned skin,” you recite back, forcing a smile onto your lips when the boy glances up at you. He tilts his head to the side. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth as the stare grows unsettling then he shakes his head and speaks again.

“Would you like someone more submissive or dominant?”

“Hm? Oh, um…” That wasn’t part of the plan. Surely Yeosang would have mentioned it if he had known they would ask. But what would he have said if they asked him the same? “Um, submissive is fine, I suppose?” The boy hums again then motions towards the hallway where Yeosang and Soojin both headed down.

“Your room will be on the second floor, Room 213. Please take the stairs at the end of the hall.” He passes a keycard your way along with your credit chip, leaving you with a grin and a soft-spoken, “Your courtesan will join you shortly. Enjoy.” You bristle at his words but manage to smile a little bit as you take both the card and your chip back. You leave the counter to head for the hallway, not pausing to look back at where Jongho might be, but you ping your wristband as you go. Nothing has come in from Yeosang’s side again so it’s safe to assume he doesn’t have Wooyoung with him by now. It leaves you and Jongho with more pressure and either more or less of a chance to recover him, so you can only hope for the best as you climb the stairs to the second floor.

Room 213 is empty as expected when you slip inside, and it’s free from that odd yellow fog outside as well, so you bask in the freedom and breathe fresh air deeply while you can. It’s a basic and standard room — much more like a small hotel room than anything else from the cabinet near the door and the double bed pushed up against the wall. There’s a metal sink as well close to the window but nothing else adorns the room leaving it rather dismal and simple. Not that you expected these people to treat the courtesans with even an ounce of respect; it’s still disheartening to think of Wooyoung being stuck in such a small and cramped space without a choice.

Whatever peace you thought you could have is cruelly interrupted less than five minutes later as a series of shy knocks reach your door. You blink up from where you sit perched on the edge of the neatly made bed. Is this how Yeosang felt waiting for his door to open? You inhale sharply, heart pounding mercilessly in your throat and choking you with the strength of an actual hand. And shamefully, you can’t even bring yourself to look at the door when it slides open, too afraid of not seeing Wooyoung standing behind it.

“Y-Y/N?”

You snap your head towards the door so quickly that your neck pops with the effort, eyes blinking open faster than ever, and even when your gaze settles on him, you still can’t quite believe he’s really before you. In that moment, the two of you merely regard each other with stunned stares like neither of you can believe this is possible, and in that time, the door slides shut again to leave you together in the all too small room.

“Wooyoung.” You bring yourself to your feet, standing on shaky legs as you face him. “W-Woo—”

He cuts you short by barreling into you with such force that it knocks the air out of your lungs. The metal around his neck scrapes against your skin hard enough to cut but you pay it no mind as he squeezes his arms around your waist and releases a heart-wrenching sob into your shoulder. Reason returns to you then, bringing you to ping your wristband again; although this time you tap it three times to alert the others that you have Wooyoung with you now. There is nothing more to do after that other than to hug him back as his tears soak your neck and shoulder.

“I-I didn’t — I di-didn’t want to lose hope b-but… fuck it was s-so hard not to and I was st-starting to think I wouldn’t ever s-see you again,” Wooyoung sobs. You almost want to cry with him if not for the small blinking light in the upper corner of the room that catches your eye and sends a surge of panic through you.

“The cameras, Wooyoung. They’re still on, we need to—”

“Y-Yeah, they’re — they only c-check if you hit the button by the bed.” Wooyoung pulls back from your shoulder, at last, rubbing at his tear-stricken cheeks so hard it makes his skin blossom with red. He pauses to catch his breath, or at least steady himself enough to speak without choking on his words. “That si-signals that you’re unsatisfied so they’ll c-check and see what’s — what’s wrong before sending a new courtesan.” Wooyoung puts his hand in yours and laces your fingers without hesitation. The touch seems to offer him some more comfort that helps calm his small hiccups and cries. “Is Y-Yeosang okay?”

“He’s alright, yeah,” you whisper back through a smile. “Misses you something awful, but he’s here too. He tried to get to you first, but they must have sent someone else to him. Jongho came as well. To get you. We came to get you, Wooyoung.”

Those words make Wooyoung’s eyes well up with sickening haste. He sinks to the bed before another sob forces its way out, and you sit down beside him like the mattress might collapse if you move too quickly.

“I’m so glad. So fucking g-glad. Being in a pl-place like this without Yeosang — it’s fucking hell.” Wooyoung sinks his teeth into his lower lip just to keep it from trembling.

“Have you…” Surely it’s not a question you have any right to ask, and part of you feels like Wooyoung did need your help but merely did not want to bring you to this place, even if just to watch through his eyes. Still, you swallow the nerves and force the question out. “Have they made you work yet?”

“It’s not important whether they did or not,” Wooyoung says through a weak smile, but that tells you all you need to know. It sounds too rehearsed and monotonous, like he’s been told to say this even if only by himself. “B-But what’s the plan? How are we getting out? Is someone coming to get us?”

“Um, we’re to wait the allotted time here until we get news from one of Hongjoong’s contacts here. He’s a hacker, and he’ll take care of the surveillance system so that we can open the window and get out that way. We’ll meet Yeosang and Jongho in an alleyway not too far from here after that. Then head back to the ship on a transport car.”

“Thought of everything, huh?”

“I sure hope so.”

“It should work just fine. We’re on the second floor though, so it’ll be quite the fall. Just remember to not go face-first.” Wooyoung’s smile is infectious, and you laugh along with his jest, hand squeezing around his. “How is Seonghwa doing?”

“A-Ah, I nearly forgot you knew about that. Um, he’s alright but Hongjoong didn’t think he was well enough to come on the mission with us.”

“Captain is up then? Yeosang mentioned he’d been out for quite some time because of his injuries. That’s great news that he’s up! I — he’ll be happy to hear that I have some info about where Mingi and San are being held too. I can tell him when we’re back on the ship. B-But Seonghwa is okay otherwise?”

“Yunho said there’s no lingering signs of health issues so he’ll be okay physically. I… I have so many questions that I don’t even know where to begin.” Wooyoung’s smile stretches a bit wider.

“I assumed you would. That’s okay though; we have a full hour to use anyways, so you can ask me anything while we have the time to be alone together. I would say we could do it later when we’re back on the ship but Yeosang probably won’t let me out of his sight for even two seconds from now on. It’d be best for us to get it all out now so we don’t have to hear him scribbling in that damn notebook of his.” Wooyoung can’t hide his elation despite the teasing words, and you know that getting to see Yeosang again soon means more to him than you could ever understand. Yeosang must be feeling the same way himself, waiting out this hour with painstaking patience.

“What happened in the days you didn’t let me in? You went quiet for so long I was getting worried.”

“Ah, we shouldn’t start there,” Wooyoung murmurs, glancing down at the floor. He pauses. The breath of hesitation leaves your stomach in knots. “Nothing you want to hear, I promise. That’s why I didn’t try to bring you in. It wasn’t anything pretty, but I assure you there was nothing they could do to hurt me physically. I’m too far gone for that sort of torture. It’s… over and done with now. More scars to add to my collection, and more for Yeosang to cry over probably. We’ll both be fine. You’re probably wondering about the whole connection thing and us both being Sirens and such, right?”

“I — admittedly yes, but looking back now it seems almost obvious? I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner, I guess. But yeah, specifically that connection or whatever it is. Yeosang said he didn’t know much at all about it.”

“Right, yeah, I don’t know much myself either, to be honest.” Wooyoung presses his lips into a pout. “It’s hard to say what exactly it is. Seonghwa’s books don’t really have anything about this sort of occurrence, but what I’ve gathered from it so far is probably all that Yeosang told you. ‘There’s no place in the universe that you can hide from each other’. Daichi told me that once.”

“He told me the same actually.”

“Mhm, I think he knows a bit more about it than he claims to. For me, I can almost hear you in my head when you’re in distress, even when you’re far away. Except it doesn’t sound like you’re scared or anything like that. It almost sounds as though you’re softly singing to me? Like… I’m on a boat with gentle waves and you’re singing to me through the water. When I’m asleep and dreaming and you reach out to me for help, I can close my eyes and find myself on a boat like that. A white boat on a black lake. And I hear you singing to me in the water, look down, and see a tiny flickering light through the darkness. For years I’ve had that dream.”

“Yeosang… he talked about you having such a dream. Swimming in a black lake and trying to reach someone but not being able to?”

“Yeah! Um, I’ve woken him up so much because of that very dream. I would have that dream time and time again before you joined the crew, desperately swimming to reach you but it was like something was blocking me from getting to you. Like I could never reach you no matter how fast I was. I would never be able to get in. Then suddenly — one night I did, and I woke up in a box of fabrics in the cargo bay.” Wooyoung shifts to look you in the eye, a weak laugh slipping through his lips. “That feels so long ago now.”

“I’ve been wondering how to thank you for that,” you murmur. “If not for that moment, I would have died.” The skin around your nails suddenly seems a lot more interesting, and you busy yourself with picking at it mindlessly rather than looking back in Wooyoung’s direction. He doesn’t let your hand drift far from his though before he’s tugging it right back into his grasp. His other hand finds its way atop yours as well, holding your joined ones together tightly.

“I didn’t do it to get a thank you. It was just… the right thing to do. It’s sad that we live in such a bad and awful society where you feel the need to thank me for doing something as simple as that.”

“Did you not thank Yeosang for saving his life once upon a time?” You dare to ask. Wooyoung is a bit startled at first, caught off-guard by both your sudden question and the content behind it, but he laughs loud and clear without restraint.

“For someone who claims to hate talking about his life, he sure does talk a lot, doesn’t he?” Wooyoung brushes his bang out of his eyes, pushing the strands that have quickly grown unruly and long to the side. “Yeosang never lets me thank him. Any time I’ve tried, he shut me down before I could finish. Honestly, he saved my life twice. Once when he chose me from that lineup of slaves and spared me a crueler fate, and once when he broke those chains and set me free.”

Chose… me…? Then it wasn’t Yeosang’s mother who picked Wooyoung out for him?

You don’t get to dwell on that thought for long because Wooyoung simply continues to ramble, more and more peace coming to his shoulders as he calms down further.

“Yeosang only ever thanks me. As odd as that is.”

“Did you — have you ever saved his life then?” You already know the answer to that question, but it’s already hanging in the air between you by the time you catch yourself.

“Yes.” Wooyoung is beaming by now, lips stretched wide as he grins. “I got him out of prison when they charged him with treason.”

“And that’s what he thanks you for?”

Wooyoung’s smile doesn’t falter even as he shakes his head in denial.

“He never claims to have saved me, not even once. Instead, Yeosang says that I saved him.”

“B-But why? Objectively he did save you, so why does he not acknowledge that?”

“Because, Y/N, there’s a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. Yeosang and I loved each other for many years before. But just loving each other wasn’t enough for Crown Prince Kang Minhee to break my chains and commit treason. When ”I love you“ turns into ”I am in love with you“ and ”I am in love with the mere idea of you“, then Yeosang set me free. Even though I would never have asked him to do it, he chose to on his own accord. So he thanks me and says that I saved him because of that. Because I trusted him enough to put my life in his hands time and time again and let him fall in love with me. He claims it to be a difficult thing — allowing an Elitist to fall in love with you. But with Yeosang… he has only ever made it easy. There are times where it is difficult and frustrating, where I wish that he could be anything other than an Elitist, for fuck’s sake, times when I would rather break his neck in an absolutely non-sexy kind of way, but that’s part of love and loving someone. That’s why he’s grateful to me. It sounds selfish and egotistical to say, but after having him repeat himself for so many years, I’ve grown to accept that even if I don’t believe I deserve it.” Wooyoung speaks with a raw conviction that you’ve heard before. It’s the same tone Hongjoong used when speaking to Seonghwa in the medbay, the same tone Yeosang used when talking about Wooyoung and their past together.

Even if you wanted to formulate a response, you don’t think you would be able to because of how overwhelming the emotion in Wooyoung’s voice is. He’s had every opportunity to blame Yeosang for the misfortune in his life, claim that if only Yeosang hadn’t picked him from the start he would be better off, claim that Yeosang got him out of being a slave only to put him in a more dangerous position. Wooyoung could even blame Yeosang for not protecting him well enough to keep him from being kidnapped and tortured.

Yet not once has Wooyoung blamed him.

Perhaps you were being unfair in pushing the blame onto Seonghwa’s shoulders when he didn’t fight your decision to go with Jisung. Is it so wrong to want someone to fight for you? Yet Yeosang has fought every day for Wooyoung and continues to do so. Wooyoung, who has been through hell and tortures he does not wish to speak about, asked about Yeosang’s well-being before anything else. Yet if they were in your position — if Wooyoung were the one agreeing to go with Jisung to save the others, would Yeosang not drop everything to fight for him?

Your mind screams back at you, telling you that it’s different, the situations aren’t the same, the relationships aren’t the same, and you cannot compare yourself to people like Wooyoung and Yeosang who have had years to figure this out. And so, you don’t compare yourself to them.

Rather you compare Seonghwa and Hongjoong to them. How Seonghwa’s worst nightmare is not being able to save Hongjoong from himself. The sheer will and determination in Hongjoong’s eyes when he said he would never let Seonghwa’s demons overtake him. You can’t help but wonder if perhaps that is similar to what Wooyoung and Yeosang have. Neither are anything remotely close to what you have — had, your mind suggests ever so helpfully — with Seonghwa yourself.

“It may be selfish, but I don’t want you to push me away. I would rather be hurt and still have you in my life rather than to be perfectly fine without you.”

That memory slips through unannounced and unasked for, and the mere prospect of why it’s coming back to you while you’re having such thoughts scares you so much that you slam the door in that memory’s face and throw away the key before it breaks loose.

“But anyway that’s — I rambled a bit too much, that’s not the point, um, have you ever had similar dreams like those? The ones I had, I mean? Before waking up in my body or before you came to the crew, any time you can remember. I know you haven’t had much opportunity yet, but you’ve had a few experiences by now.”

“I can’t recall ever having those sorts of dreams. That dream you mentioned about the lake — I had a dream that I was drowning in a black lake the night you came to save Seonghwa, but when I wake up in your body, it’s simply that. All I know is falling asleep and waking up like a passenger in your consciousness. I don’t have any control like you’ve had over my body.” Wooyoung’s eyes are oh so expectant and pleading, and it twists something painful in your gut. You want so badly to have information for him, to be able to give him answers or even a hint as to what could be going on, but frankly, you have nothing to offer. “I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I-I feel utterly useless in this whole situation. I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me or my head, I just can’t remember at all and I don’t… You and Seonghwa seem to have this whole Siren thing figured out, how it works, what sort of abilities you have, how to use them. I, on the other hand, have so many gaps and missing pieces in my memories. I’ve had one or two moments where I consciously used some sort of ability, then Seonghwa tried to help me learn, but other than that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s okay!” Wooyoung rushes to reassure you, squeezing his hand tight around yours as he smiles again. “Y/N, please don’t worry about that. I don’t expect you to have an answer right now, it’s really okay. We’re gonna figure this out together now that you finally know what I am and we’ll be back on the ship soon. And I can help you understand more about being a Siren in general too! If we can get to the Dreamscape together, maybe Daichi will be willing to talk.”

“Last time I was there, he tried to kill me and told me that if I kept asking questions he would end my life,” you snort. Wooyoung’s smile drops into a grave expression that doesn’t fit his features.

“In the beginning — when I first started seeing Daichi, that is — he wasn’t like that. He wanted me to find other Sirens. That’s what ultimately made Yeosang choose Captain’s crew because Daichi had told me there was a Siren there. Then as more time went on, Daichi seemed to get more and more frightened by the idea of Sirens finding each other. He started telling me that someone dangerous would find me, someone I should guard myself from.”

“He warned me of the same when I first came aboard. But Seonghwa mentioned how Daichi’s job is to guide Sirens to each other?”

“That’s true, yes, but Daichi seems to have changed his mind along the way. I can’t understand why, but I’m sure it will make it a lot more difficult to find two more for Captain.” Your conversation dies a bit there, leaving both you and Wooyoung to stew over the predicament. According to Daichi, you spent years denying your identity and refusing to listen to him, so you never made an effort to find any Sirens like both Wooyoung and Seonghwa have been apparently. Still, it leaves you more curious than before, especially given what all happened in your latest escapade in the Dreamscape.

“Tsukio can find you anywhere, even while far away! This mental connection you share, this link — the two of you are a dyad, a yin and a yang, a pair that cannot be severed. No matter how far apart you are, the two of you will always be able to come back to each other.”

“Did he ever tell you that we will always be able to come back to each other?”

“Come… back to each other? No, I’ve never heard him say such a thing before.”

“I remember seeing you in a dream before, not the Dreamscape but an actual dream. But that dream felt more like a memory, and I asked you about it once in the medbay. I know you told me no then, but does it have anything to do with what Daichi said possibly?”

“Hm, I suppose it could?” Wooyoung leans back and looks up at the ceiling. You can’t figure out what’s on his mind just through his expression, and what he says next doesn’t help much either. “But I don’t have any sort of memory like that.”

“You — you were wiped with a serum too, weren’t you?”

“Did Yeosang tell you that as well?” Wooyoung asks through a frown. “Did he mention how guilty he feels about that too? Probably, that would be very much like him to do so. Guilty for things that aren’t even his fault… but yes. Yes, my memories were wiped too.”

“I have another question. I’m sorry for asking so much all at once. Yeosang never gave me a clear answer though, so I’m still curious, but why haven’t you told Hongjoong about this?” Wooyoung doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he sinks his teeth into his lower lip and refuses to look your way for a bit. The silence drags but it’s nothing uncomfortable or unsettling. It isn’t like you’re on a time crunch right now either, so you’re more than willing to wait until he is ready to speak.

“It’s something stupid and selfish honestly,” he whispers after a bit. His other hand finds purchase on the bed, picking at a loose thread hanging off the sheets. “I didn’t expect Yeosang to take it so seriously, but now he’s adamant even when I try to tell him otherwise. Really it’s just that when I was still a slave, I didn’t always have to wear the collar. It dampened and muted my abilities so I couldn’t use them freely. Shocked me a lot too whenever I foolishly tried to use them without permission, leaving some really ugly and awful scars. Yeosang always treated the wounds when that would happen.”

His hand travels up to touch the band of metal hanging about his neck. You follow the movement with your eyes. You can’t miss the spreading scars underneath the metal as he shifts it, like little lightning bolts of pale skin hiding beneath it, and you wonder if that’s what you felt the first time you woke up in his body.

“I have a lot of scars from lots of different things. It shouldn’t be any different, and it shouldn’t even matter because it’s stupid and childish and I need to get over it. Even though the collar is dead and doesn’t work, like it doesn’t mute my abilities anymore or anything like that, just the idea of having it on keeps me sane. Being a Siren is both a blessing and a curse. Some abilities you’re born with are crueler than imaginable and can be used to do horrific things. The things I was forced to do with mine are not something I ever want to revisit again. So… I keep the collar on because the trauma I suffered while wearing it for so many years keeps me sane. Merely the idea of wearing it prevents me from using my abilities because I was conditioned into a state where if I tried doing anything while the collar was on, I would be hurt. When it comes to visiting you, it’s different because I’m asleep when that happens. And whenever people other than Yeosang or myself try to touch it, I get thrown back into the memories of his father taking it off me to use me as a weapon and I-I can’t — it’s too much to bear.

“I trust Hongjoong. I really trust him and admire him and respect him so much. As much as I do Yeosang even if it’s in a different way. But I have an innate fear of authority that tells me no matter who it is, the people who have power over me will abuse it. That if anyone above me knows I’m a Siren, I’ll be used again, and I’m afraid of that. So it’s not that I don’t want to tell Hongjoong. Just that as long as I have this collar on and as long as these demons linger at the edge of my mind, I don’t think I can ever tell him what I am.”

You want to express an apology for bringing those memories back or at least offer an ounce of consolation because you can almost feel the pain radiating off his body in waves. But the moment you reach out to pull him into a hug, the door to your room slides open out of nowhere. You jerk, and Wooyoung lifts an arm to protect the both of you, but you take the initiative in pushing him down to the bed. In one swift movement, you climb in front of him, one knee down on the mattress and the other stretched out in front of Wooyoung’s body. The blade against your thigh is cool on your fingertips, but you don’t pull it out quite yet. The flash of red hair before you stops you at the last second.

Soojin?

The girl is already halfway in the room, door sliding shut behind her, and the second it’s fully closed, she turns to twist the lock into place.

“W-Wait, we’re n-not supposed to lock the doors!” Wooyoung protests, leaning up over your shoulder to see better. Soojin levels him with a sharp glare. You reach behind you to push Wooyoung back enough so that he’s hidden behind your shoulder, matching Soojin’s stare with equal intensity. The girl steps closer to you, draws a single finger up, and stabs you hard in the chest with her dull nail.

“You and me need to have a chat after all it seems.”

“What do you mean?” You clench your fingers around the handle of your knife, still not completely at ease with the woman standing in front of you.

“What do I mean? I mean that my fucking client downstairs just tried to fucking murder me and gave me a message from Han Jisung of all people! Seeing you and hearing from that bastard on the same day after being free from that past for several years? That’s no fucking coincidence, Y/N.”

“Murder!? How did you — how did you get away?”

A laugh of disbelief escapes Soojin’s lips as she pulls back a few feet.

“I killed him, of course! What else was I supposed to do? I dumped the fucker’s body out the window for staff to clean up later. This sort of thing happens frequently enough for them not to question it, and besides, I told them it was a jealous worker so they won’t really care all too much about him. But what the fuck is going on? Why are you here and why did Han Jisung just tell me my time is up and try to have me killed?”

“I… I-I don’t — I’m not with Jisung, I know nothing about that at all. He—” You cut yourself short with a sharp inhale, eyes darting across the floor like it has all the answers in it. “Wait, he knew I would be coming here though. Did he know that you worked here?”

“Unfortunately, not by choice though. We ran across each other around a year ago in the city, and I mentioned working at the House in passing.”

You shift to motion back at Wooyoung and pull your hand off the knife on your leg at last.

“He was brought here against his will by Jisung. Well, whoever Jisung is working with at least. I only came to get him out. We’re — he’s part of the crew I’m working with now. Jisung knew where he would be and that I would come to get him.”

“And he’s still a psychopath when it comes to you then?” Soojin scoffs, brows knitting together to accentuate her disbelief. “He tried to have me killed just so that I would stay out of your business?”

“I don’t know, Soojin,” you exhale. “It doesn’t make any sense why he would do that. I already made a deal with him and he’ll get to take me regardless of what happens here.”

“T-Take you?” Wooyoung interjects. “Take you where?” His hand latches around your elbow and squeezes hard. You ignore the man in favor of maintaining your focus on Soojin, however, much to his dismay.

“Unless you know something Jisung wouldn’t want me to know and he couldn’t even risk the thought of us running into each other and speaking.” At that, Soojin tilts her head to the side in confusion.

“What could I possibly know that you don’t?”

“What happened before you left the crew?” Her confusion intensifies to a dramatic degree.

“Have you gone mad? Do you not remember or something? You were always a bit bad with memory, yeah, but has it gotten this bad?”

“Please, Soojin, I’m begging you please just tell me what happened before the crew fell apart. I know you called me a scapegoat for a reason, please.” You reach out across the empty space between your bodies, having to stand to reach her, but when you do, you close a hand around her wrist. Soojin blinks between where you hold her and your face without speaking for so long that you think she’s going to refuse you again.

“I called you a scapegoat because I thought you were in on Jisung’s plan at the time,” she says finally, pulling her other hand up to run through her hair. “You would’ve done anything for him so I thought that was just another part of it.”

“What did I do?”

“I should be asking what you remember happening instead.”

“What I remember is stealing documents and plotting to dismantle the military from the inside out with you guys but I fucked up. I know I fucked up and got caught and Hyunwoo took the blame for me and it got him fucking executed.” Soojin leans back, hand tugging out of your light grip.

“I know nothing of what happened after Ash, Juyeon, and I left Eros. But before we left…” It’s her turn to hold you by the wrist. She turns your arm over and exposes the inside of your left arm, right where that damned brand sits against your raised skin. “You didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t your burden to bear. You were the scapegoat, and that’s why the team fell apart, that’s why we all broke up and ran away. You didn’t plan to steal anything, nor did you plot a thing. Neither did Hyunwoo. It was all Jisung; Jisung wanted to dismantle the military and kill the king. When Juyeon, Ash, and I found out what he was planning to do, we brought it to Hyunwoo. All Hyunwoo said was that stopping Jisung wasn’t something he could do. So he told us to leave while we still had the chance and that he would take care of things. He would take the blame so that no one else would have to get hurt. But you didn’t want him to do that, so you ran off and carried out Jisung’s plan for him.”

“Which part? Did I k-kill the king… before Hyunwoo died?”

Soojin heaves a deep sigh.

“The last night we were all together as a team, you snuck out of the barracks and infiltrated the palace. You stole the documents Jisung wanted — whatever the fuck they were because I don’t even know why he wanted them in the first place if he was going to kill the king anyways — and you killed the king that night too. Everything went to shit. It all happened too fast for the rest of us to know what was really going on. You just came back to the barracks and turned the lights on and…”

You don’t realize how hard your head is pounding until the woman trails off, voice dying in her throat, and then it hits you will so much force that you feel your body beginning to lurch. You would fall over, most likely smack your head on the sink as well, if not for Wooyoung jumping up and catching you by the waist before you can fully go down. And thanks to him, all you do is hunch over and hold your head in your hands as a stab of pain sears through your skull.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe for me,” he urges as you slump your weight back against him. “You need to breathe, okay? You’re hyperventilating. One breath every five seconds, slow it down, you’re okay.”

“Th-There was blood. There was blood, wasn’t there?” Looking at Soojin fills your vision with pure crimson, but it’s not because of her hair this time.

“Yes,” she whispers back, not daring to speak any louder than that. “You were… drenched in blood that wasn’t yours. And we were so scared you had been hurt somehow. I carried you to the bath and cleaned you but you didn’t have a single scratch on you.”

“O-Oh god,” you choke out. The red in your vision turns coppery as a different image takes over and a new memory swarms your head.

“What the fuck did you do!?”

Hands squeezing hard around your throat, shoving you under bloody waters.

“Let her go!”

“You ruined everything! How could you do this? Why are you so fucking useless? I told you to sit still and not do anything!”

The water spread to your nostrils and forced its way in as you struggled to find air.

“Jisung, release her right this instant!”

The hands around your throat just grew tighter.

Wooyoung eases you down to the floor when the rest of your strength leaves you. He keeps a hand at your waist, using the other to hold your head to his chest in a desperate attempt to control the wild tremors shooting through your body. You keep a hand pressed to your throbbing temple but it does nothing to alleviate the pain you’re in, one that feels as though something is trying to rip your head in half with their bare hands.

“C-Can’t remember more. I can’t, I do-don’t want to remember anymore, I — it hurts. It hurts too much, it hurts so much.”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to remember anymore, okay? You’re good, you’re done, no more. No more.” Even through the pain, you can’t miss the desperation in Wooyoung’s tone. His hand moves for your arm where your wristband sits, buzzing uselessly against your skin. “Y/N, what does this mean? Is something happening?”

You want to answer, You even open your mouth to do so. Yet the moment you do, the taste of that metallic soapy water fills your mouth and you choke on air.

“Y/N, please, what does it mean? Are we in trouble?” You think you shake your head but the panic in Wooyoung’s eyes isn’t reassuring and you aren’t sure you have any hold over the muscles in your body right now. “Please, do you know where our friend is?” He asks, directing his focus to where Soojin kneels in front of you.

“The brunette?”

“Brunette? No, no, I’m talking a blond?”

“J-Jongho,” you force out, gritting your teeth until your jaw hurts from the force. “Jongho… here too.”

“I saw that name on the register,” Soojin cuts in. “I checked it to find what room you were in and saw his name further down on the list.”

“Please get him and bring him. Please, I know you — we just need your help right now, please,” Wooyoung begs. His grip on your waist tightens a little as Soojin hesitates, and it doesn’t let up until the girl nods and leaves the room in haste. Wooyoung brings you back to his chest once she’s gone, matching your shaky breaths as he gently rocks you back and forth. “I can’t… know your memories or the pain you’re feeling right now, but I know what it’s like to suddenly be hit with memories you forgot you had. Ones that were suppressed behind an iron wall. I know what it’s like to have it slip out and hit you.”

“It fucking hurts.” You clench your jaw again, feeling a burn of pain up the side of your face with the movement. “Like someone is stabbing my b-brain with a da-damn icepick.”

“Are the memories painful?”

“I d-don’t know. I can hardly think straight. My head hurts. That’s all I can think about.”

“The serum… I’m assuming it’s the same one I was given back then. It can’t take away memories. Yeah, they tell you that it’s a wipe, but that’s only because they don’t want you trying to find those old memories. It can’t remove parts of the brain like that. They just use it to lock away memories but there’s no guarantee of it being permanent, so when you do remember something they tried to lock away, it hurts.”

“D-Does it hurt you like this too?”

“Yes, but I’m — pain isn’t something that bothers me all too much, and I’m lucky enough to have Yeosang nearby when it happens. I’ve got a prescription for the pain from Yunho too. We can… we can get you something long-term back on the ship.”

Another stab of pain hits as the door slides open, metal grating hard on your ears, but this time Jongho stands with Soojin. He rushes over to join you and Wooyoung on the floor in a panic, obviously torn between being excited to see Wooyoung again and your current crumpled state.

“Yeosang’s hour is up and he’s waiting at the meeting point. Captain hasn’t buzzed in on the contact yet.” Jongho reaches down to lay a hand against your forehead. You’re quick enough to turn your face further into Wooyoung’s shirt, inhaling the sickening floral scent that clings to his skin.

“Don’t even think about trying to take it away,” you hiss.

“I can’t take physical pain, don’t worry. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Here, something for the pain.” Soojin interrupts the moment to lean over you with a cup of unknown contents. “Fast-acting pain reliever. Every room has some in it just in case patrons get too out of hand. We keep it in the cabinets, I promise it’s nothing bad. It’ll numb you and make you a bit sluggish for a while, but it’ll also take the pain away.”

“Thank you,” Wooyoung murmurs as he takes the cup from her hands. He helps bring the cup to your lips, pushing some of the murky grey liquid inside into your mouth, and you struggle not to gag around the taste of it. He doesn’t stop until the entirety of its contents are drained into your mouth then tilts your head back to keep it down when some threatens to drip out the corners of your lips. An unknown hand comes down on your knee.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Soojin. “I didn’t mean to hurt you with this information.” You swallow hard only to choke a second later on the putrid aftertaste clinging to your tongue. Wooyoung lets you cough into his shoulder without complaint, passing the now empty cup back to Soojin.

“You couldn’t have known,” you murmur after escaping the coughing fit. “It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t know what they would do to you after we left the planet,” she sighs through the quiet of the room. “I should have expected it honestly, knowing Jisung, but maybe I hoped he would be better than that. He always manipulated you so it only makes sense that he would try to manipulate your memories too. Do you at least know what happened a little bit better now?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah.” You try to pull away from Wooyoung and get up but his grip on you doesn’t let up. “My memories were taken away for a second time and replaced with something else. So instead of only losing fourteen years of my life, I lost eighteen and spent the last three years believing those manipulated memories to be real. I’m peachy.”

Another buzz from your wristband pulls your attention away, and Jongho glances down at his own too.

“Cameras are down.”

“Let’s go then,” you mutter.

“Are you okay to move? Don’t push it if you’re not strong enough.”

“We need to go now while we still can,” you protect, letting Wooyoung help you to your feet even if it’s on shaky legs. Jongho gives a curt nod then heads for the window, no doubt to pry it open. Soojin catches you by the arm before you can fully turn away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Even if you can’t remember all of it, there are still things I regret saying and doing to you. I should have known back then how much Jisung was manipulating you and not pushed so much blame onto your shoulders.”

“You can get out now with us, Soojin. While you have the chance.”

“And do what with that freedom?” She huffs out a dry and lifeless laugh. “Wander aimlessly? Ash and Juyeon are both missing in action. I have no clues or leads on where they might be or if they’re even alive. I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.”

“I… if I hear anything out there about them, I promise I’ll send you a message. I’ll find a way to get news to you, maybe through my captain’s contact or something. I swear if I can help you get out of this hellhole I will.”

Soojin reaches up to ruffle her hand through your hair, mussing the loose locks more.

“You always were a good kid, Y/N. Too good for the life you were forced to live.” It hurts to watch her smile. It hurts even more to let Wooyoung guide you to where Jongho waits by the now open window. “Go while you can, you three. The medicine will wear off in a few hours, but hopefully, you’ll have access to something better by then. I’ll make sure you get out safely.”

Jongho dips through the open space first, hopping down to the pristine streets below with little issue.

“Send Y/N down next!”

You can’t tear your gaze off Soojin. You don’t know when you might see her again or if you even will, and it hurts to leave her behind like this but she just keeps smiling at you with bright eyes and blinding hair.

“T-Thank you, Soojin. Please stay safe, if you can.”

“Always.”

With that, Wooyoung hoists you over the ledge of the window and dangles you far enough down so that your fall is softened a bit. Jongho catches you by the legs, taking the brunt of your weight before you hit the ground. Wooyoung drops down beside you without warning a second later. As Jongho eases you down, you dare to glance up at the window you just left from, and it shuts slowly without a sign from Soojin inside.

Wooyoung rushes back to your side and loops an arm back around your waist when you start to slump forward again.

“That’s — that’ll look too suspicious,” you mutter, pulling his arm back to his own side.

“We just dropped out a fucking window. I’m sure that would look more suspicious.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Yet two steps later, you’re stumbling over your heels and Jongho comes to your rescue this time. He tugs your arm through his own as he walks forward without saying a word. You can only lean your weight on him and slump your chin against his shoulder.

“Thank you…”

Silence drapes over the three of you as you make your way to the meeting point with Yeosang. You aren’t in as much pain as you were earlier (Soojin wasn’t bluffing when she said fast-acting) but the medicine is already making you a bit groggy. It feels a bit like you’re wading through sludge just trying to walk a few steps, and frankly, Jongho is the only thing keeping you going at this point. Wooyoung lingers at your other side. Every once in a while, you feel his worried gaze find its way to your form. He might even be speaking to you at some point because you hear something that sounds vaguely like his voice through the radio static in your ears, but there is far too much on your mind and too much to think about right now for you to pay any attention to that.

If… if I killed the king before Hyunwoo’s execution, then who did I kill that night? Did I kill anyone at all? Was that memory fabricated? What have I been working towards all these years if that’s a lie?

Funny how your search for answers only left you with more questions instead. There are too many questions to keep track of and not remotely enough answers to them. You know you won’t be able to have those answers yet either, not while San and Mingi are still missing and Jisung is bothering you. Where would you even look for answers now? Jisung would never tell you a thing, Hyunwoo is dead and gone, and now you’re leaving Soojin behind.

The one thing that reaches your brain through the static in your ears is a dry and choked sob. You pull yourself out of your thoughts as Wooyoung disappears from your side. It doesn’t take much to guess why. You’ve reached the meeting point, the all too small alleyway where Yeosang waits for you three, and Wooyoung is running straight to him with reckless abandon.

“Y-Yeosang, angel, Yeosang, my god I’m—” Wooyoung’s voice dies in a cracked sob when he reaches the Elitist. His hands barely brush the man’s shoulders because Yeosang drops to his knees in front of Wooyoung, face hidden but no doubt bearing tears, and he balls his fists around the flimsy material of Wooyoung’s pants. He presses his forehead to Wooyoung’s hip, hands traveling further up to press against the small of his back. Wooyoung can only card a hand through Yeosang’s hair in response, but it’s enough for now. It’s enough for both of them like this, with Yeosang’s knuckles white from the pressure of clinging to Wooyoung, and you and Jongho maintain your distance as best you can to give them this moment.

“Are they happy?” You whisper to Jongho even though the answer is blindingly obvious before you. The Berserker’s lips twist into a small grin.

“I don’t think there’s a word strong enough to describe how they’re feeling right now.”

Yeosang pulls his head off Wooyoung’s hip and stares up at the man with tears on his cheeks and stars in his eyes. Wooyoung dips down to the Elitist’s height, pulling his face up to his own and slotting their lips together like nothing else in the universe exists around them. Again, it’s raw, as all emotions between these two seem to be, but it belongs to them and it’s something you can’t take away from them. When they part lips to gulp in desperate breaths of fresh air, Wooyoung places his forehead over Yeosang’s and takes the breath from his lungs like that. They don’t exchange words but there doesn’t seem to be a need for words either, not until Yeosang seems to catch hold of himself and come back to his senses.

“The car is waiting for us at the other end of the alley. Driver’s already pulled up.” Jongho nods when the Elitist drags his gaze over to where the two of you stand. Yeosang lets Wooyoung pull him back into space after that, unable to contain a smile as the Siren continues to press more kisses to his cheeks. You and Jongho trail behind them to the other end of the alleyway. Seeing them together like this makes it worth it. You knew it would and you were striving to bring them this moment, but seeing it unfold before you like this increases that feeling tenfold.

Once in the car, Yeosang sits Wooyoung down in one of the cushioned seats then drops to the floor between his legs even when Wooyoung protests and tells him to get up.

“Stop, that’s weird! It looks weird, Yeo, please! It looks like you’re trying to su—”

“Shut up,” Yeosang mumbles back as he drops his head to rest against Wooyoung’s thigh. “You’re the one who makes everything dirty. Get your head out of the gutter.”

Wooyoung obviously doesn’t mind all too much because he returns to toying with the Elitist’s blond locks moments later as you and Jongho settle into the seats beside the pair. And from where you’re sitting, they really do look like young boys again, more than just a former slave and ex-prince but also less than that. Just… boys who fell in love despite the odds set against them.

“I’m sorry, Woo, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, angel, I know. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You tune out of the conversation there. It’s far too intimate and personal for you to encroach on, and the medicine has you falling asleep in your seat anyways. Jongho seems to pick up on that, reaching over to pat your leg.

“Rest while you can.”

A hum comes as your reply as you slump to the side, head hitting the side of the car with a loud thud. Jongho exhales a quiet laugh and pulls you over to rest against his shoulder instead.

“’m sorry for snapping at you,” you murmur. You’re forcing your eyes to stay open long enough to get the apology out but it’s growing more difficult by the second. “I didn’t mean to, I was afraid… of her slipping out of my grasp but… that’s no excuse.”

Your fluttering eyes snap wide open when something presses down hard on your nose. You blink uselessly at Jongho and the finger he hovers over your face.

“Stop talking nonsense, yeah? Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Hm, no, I’m not.”

“Promise.”

“I promise I’m staying right here.”

“And we’ll get San back?” You mumble just before the drowsiness wins.

“We’ll get your San back too, I promise.”

✧✧✧ a/n: yall imma be honest this chapter feels like a whole fever dream and a half but i love it nonetheless she’s my Baby i hope you guys love her just as much and enjoy her <3 lots happened but also not a lot happened? i feel like the wc is so dramatic for Not A Lot but yaknow that’s life ! next chapter we’re getting juicy and bringing a part 16 move back bc teehee that’s what i do best u know me anywho let me know what u think as always i love u all im so happy to bring u guys this chapter and so excited for the coming ones!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ ​@sparklychangbin​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @vampire-jimin​ @softyubi​ @drumboydowoon​ @chatsgotmytongue​ @just-a-starfruit​ @babydolljo​ @scintillating-souls​ @khjssss​​ @rawrrainn​ @hewwo-from-the-other-side​ @icekdy​ @eggteez​​ @bangtanxberm​​ @uglychildd​ @lucymultistan​​​​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[harpyloon]

i’ll catch you

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: "Up close, Y/N could see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand..."

☞ Curse Breaker reader x Dragon-tamer Charlie Weasley

Warnings: Fluff, sprinkles of angst, dragons (duh), mentions of a dead animal, mentions of dragon eating dead animal (lol), post-war timeline (although not that important)

WC: 4.5k+ , Part 2 coming soon!

Read on AO3

Beautiful rays of golden sunlight were peaking through the blinders of Y/N's cabin. It was going to be a lovely day with the perfect weather to seek out a bit of adventure, and although she was sure she had countless other affairs to address before kicking off with her assignment the next day, a blathering Bill Weasley was not one of them.

"Are you even listening?" his tone was way beyond impatient. "You know what? Don't answer that. I know for a fact that you never pick up anything I say. Ever."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she busied herself with stuffing her socked feet inside a pair of brown chunky hiking boots. She didn't plan on going very far. Her colleagues were currently lounging in the dining hall about five cabins down, sipping piping hot ciorbă, munching on breakfast toast, and relishing their only foreseeable off day before the start of the big dig tomorrow. Some were even dozing off still, earning as much sleep as they could to compensate for the long nights to come.

It's true what they say about grumpy Curse Breakers. But nobody realized that they just spent too much time with their eyes wide open.

"You know, Bill," Y/N mused, "you always call me the drama queen. What does that make you then?"

The floating head over the fire scoffed, "A concerned superior."

"Well, there's nothing to be concerned about."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"No walks," ordered Bill, his face stern.

"Everyone's out and about today!"

"No walks for you."

Y/N laughed. "Oh yeah?"

Bill sighed. He knew trying to be hard-nosed was futile. "No walks alone at least."

"Are you sure there's no bun in Fleur's oven yet?" Y/N teased. "You're sounding more like a papa bear with each passing day."

She heard a soft melodic laugh within the fire where Bill's head was when suddenly, another floating head appeared right beside his. This time, all blonde and very French

"There iz no bun yet, mon cher. But I think he az been practicing fatherhood with you." Fleur gave Y/N a wink. "I 'eard zer are many 'andsome men in Romania. With a leetle beet of exzploring yo—"

"There will be no exploring," barked Bill, sending his wife a warning glance, which she ignored.

"—you might find someone az adventurous az you are," Fleur beamed, "And very macho."

"Darling," Bill sighed, "is this necessary?"

With a flying kiss to Y/N, Fleur was gone.

Shrugging on a light parka, Y/N gave Bill a knowing look, "You see? Your wife said I could use a macho man."

"Oh please. You're in a Curse Breaker camp."

"Hey, there are loads of macho men here."

"Macho enough for you?"

Y/N wrinkled her nose but ignored the question.

"Well, William," she said, emphasizing Bill's full name, "I, am a Curse Breaker in the middle of the Southern Carpathians." Stuffing her wand through her belt loop, she looked at him with finality. "And I am not passing up this opportunity."

"Remember when they assigned you to Egypt with me and you went on exploring? Your exploring is bad luck, Y/N, and I did not assign you to Romania to bring bad luck."

"Excuse you, the Egypt Goblins loved me."

"Goblins don't love wizards," retorted Bill.

"I think they were particularly fond of me."

"You Reductored an entire bloody Pyramid!"

Y/N was losing her patience. She wanted to sift through the mountains in the morning sunlight. Discover hidden caves and wade through cold springs. She had her breakfast way earlier than everyone else for this sole purpose.

"I promise I'll be good."

"Take Weiss with you."

Y/N glared. "Absolutely not."

"Take someone."

"I'm walking out on you right now. Don't forget to put out my fire."

"Y/N."

"I'll see you later!"

"I have to tell you—"

Without looking back, she waved at Bill and stepped out into the crisp Romanian morning.

The skies were bright and cloudless, the sun slowly rising up east. The Curse Breaker camp in the middle of the Transylvanian Alps was in for a late morning. It was quiet, apart from the whispers of the forest beside them; chirping birds, singing crickets, and the distant sound of a nearby stream.

Trudging up the rough pavement towards the foot of the nearest hill, Y/N felt an ounce of guilt seep through as she marveled at the scenery before her. Bill was the reason she got the Romania assignment. She wasn't half bad a Curse Breaker. From an outsider's perspective, some would even call her brilliant. She's aced all her missions in her first year on the job—way ahead of all the others in her year, and was even able to crackdown a dark magic-infested tomb in an assignment she co-lead in Egypt. She was quick, smart, and as brave as the career entailed.

Only one thing stood between her and a good reputation in Gringotts. Her impulsiveness.

She couldn't help it. Y/N's successes partnered with tragedies—accidents; her brilliance came with sheer will and almost violent haste. The problem is you can't think twice Bill would always say. Not everything is done in a snap, Y/N.

Bill Weasley was the only senior Curse Breaker with enough patience to supervise her. It must have been fate or a miracle that had him in temporary assignment at the London Gringotts when she graduated Hogwarts. If she were received by anyone else, or if he were back in Egypt instead, she didn't think she'd ever make it out into the field. Or worse, last a few months.

"I'll be good," she mumbled to no one in particular. Or maybe she hoped that Bill would hear. She'd floo him again later.

Trekking up the slope with hands snuggled warm inside her faux-fur-lined pockets, Y/N inhaled the fresh earth surrounding her. This was her calling. Nature. Adventure. The unknown. She was fantastic with spells and jinxes and once thought of becoming an Auror—but Aurors spent too much time indoors, on desks, drowning in paperwork and tailing dark wizards. She knew in her heart she wasn't born to enforce the law.

On the opposite side of the hill was a deep gorge between two towering mountains and a long serpentine stream. Elated at the sight, she followed the gentle flow of water over the rocks. Without thinking (because when does she ever), she slipped off her boots and socks, and despite the chilly morning, prepared to wade the ice-cold water. She dipped one toe in for good measure—a pause.

That couldn't be right.

Submerging one whole foot into the water confirmed her confusion. Strange. Almost all waterways in Romania led to the Black Sea, if not the Adriatic. Why was it warm?

This isn't the bathing stream she thought. The senior Curse Breakers back at camp had instructed them of assigned fresher areas where warming charms would be cast. She didn't remember this gorge being part of last night's tour.

Ankles deep in the water, Y/N trailed the soft currents. It was deliciously warm. A deliberate contrast to the icy breeze left by the trail ends of winter. It was supposedly mid-spring, but the winds still gave her the chills.

She took no notice of how far she was going, the water neither rising nor falling. If she were to guess it must've almost been half an hour given by the direction of the sun. The warm water and small pebbles were therapeutic beneath her feet. The walk didn't tire her at all.

Finally, the chasm's end came to view. Heart beating with excitement, she hastened her pace, dampening the legs of her trousers that she attempted to roll up. But just as her feet crossed the lip between the two mountains flanking her, she felt the oddest sensation: it began at the top of her head, traveling down her arms to her toes—as if a big fat raindrop landed on her scalp and entered her body.

She glanced at the clear blue sky. There was no cloud in sight for miles.

And then, it was suddenly very humid.

"What the..." she glanced back through the gorge. Nothing was out of order and nobody was in sight. Looking down at her feet, her surroundings were now as warm as the water she stood on. Her parka felt too thick.

Again, strange.

Trying to shake away her curiousness, Y/N trudged on.

All is well she chanted inside her head. All is well and the wind just blows differently on this side of the alps.

But no matter what she told herself, ripples of unease still disturbed Y/N. She was beginning to sweat and it wasn't just her nerves. The wind didn't blow differently on this side of the mountains because there was no wind. It was dry, dank, and very very warm.

To rattle her nerves even further, the water she was wading on was getting hotter as she went on that she had to leap on land once again. But as soon as her bare soles made contact with the grass, she yelped in pain.

"Merlin—OW."

The earth was burning. As if it bathed in the sun for too long. As if she were in the middle of a dry desert. She knew the feeling, she's been to Egypt. But why the bloody hell would Romanian soil feel this hot? Moreso in the heart of the Southern Carpathians?

Locating a jutted-out slab of rock, Y/N hopped over to sit and gather her bearings, drying her damp feet and staring at her boots and socks. She didn't want to slip them back on. The heat was intense. But it was either the boots or the sizzling soil.

She shrugged off her parka after lacing up her boots and was grateful for her reckless choice of wardrobe this morning. She opted for a ribbed shirt under her jacket—instead of a sweater—in urgent intention to get away from a nagging Bill. Now it served her well. It wasn't as thin as she would have deemed appropriate for the current temperature, but at least her neck and arms could breathe.

Gazing over the expanse of the clearing she emerged in, she suddenly became aware of the lack of green in the area. The grass was almost a withering brown—crunchy and dry. Trees weren't scattered about like the thick oaks all over the Curse Breaker camp; instead, they were clumped, almost systematically, in relatively rectangular patch formations. As if deliberately rooted as such.

Muggles Y/N thought. It was only them who had the peculiar habit of reorganizing nature.

Tying her parka around her waist, she treaded the clearing, the grass crisp beneath her boots, and approached the nearest cluster of trees. She wondered if this were one of the areas they'd be digging up. Senior Curse Breaker Digby Youssif oriented them of specific crackdown areas to look forward to in the next few months. Although almost all wizarding families were well-accounted for in Romania, there were still trifling amounts of intel on hidden vaults under protective spells cast by untraceable ancient tribes.

Y/N loved digging assignments. She was particularly fond of discovery. And if Ancient Runes was Hogwarts' least-loved lesson, she rather enjoyed Professor Babbling's classes. Well, most of the time. It was her pride and joy to have snagged an 'Outstanding' for her O.W.Ls—

Crack!

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the trees ahead of her. On instinct, Y/N drew her wand from her belt loop. Nothing was so dangerous about the wind. But it felt so...

The sound came out of nowhere, she thought it was imagining it. A steady drumming beat. Powerful and humming. An engine? she thought. But that was impossible. They were told that the area was blocked off from muggles for the duration of their stay. She paused in front of a towering ashtree. The sound was growing louder and louder. Nearer. She didn't know why but she was compelled with the need to hide.

Climb.

She felt ridiculous, clambering up an ashtree and settling on its thickest branch. Her superiors back at camp were clear that the mountains were safe, its perimeters were secured for their dig. Curse Breakers always made sure missions wouldn't come across outside interference.

Then why was her heart beating so fast?

The drumming sound was growing nearer. Behind her—above.

Peering at the sky through the leaves, a massive dark figure swooped overhead and landed with an earth-shaking thud on the clearing right in front of her tree.

Y/N felt like she was going to choke on her own spit when a deafening, earsplitting roar echoed through the mountains.

Dragon.

Fully grown, enormous, and vicious-looking, the beast had emerald scales that glinted in the morning sun. Its body was bulky, way stockier compared to the common dragons in textbooks. It had a massive head that seemed even larger than its body, and on it sprouted two long glittering golden horns. Its claws had the same golden color, and it was rearing onto its hind legs, hunching over a figure... chewing...

All the breakfast Y/N had only hours before felt like rising up her throat. An enormous dragon only meters in front of her was chewing on a dead animal, clearly having his own meal. And there she was, perched on an ashtree, ready for dessert.

Don't panic she told herself, but feeling green. She's never faced a dragon on a mission before. They tackled them in her first year on the job—Curse Breakers didn't really need training, the task calling for hands-on work—but never in her life did she ever think she'd have to face a real dragon.

I don't have to face it Y/N thought, I just have to stay here until it flies away, and run back to camp.

Wiggling up to a squat, she eyed the neighboring branch a few feet to her right which was higher up and positioned behind a thicker cluster of leaves. It didn't require a jump, but more of a really careful split; hugging the trunk tightly, she stretched her right foot across, shifting her weight to her right leg, her arms choking the tree trunk in a death grip, legs spread wide midair—

"Scuzati-ma?"

Y/N didn't fall. Thank Merlin she didn't fall. But she lost her momentum in surprise and panic, her left foot sliding from the previous branch, making her push off the trunk in haste, throwing her weight across completely. She grabs a dangling thin branch above her at the last minute, her body tilted towards the forest floor.

A forest floor where a man now stood, peering up at her curiously.

She was breathing hard, her heart thumping erratically, both from the fear of falling and being heard by the dragon so close by.

"Er—esti bine?" the man asked. Y/N saw that he had his arms out as if braced to catch her if she fell. When she didn't answer, the man spoke again, "Ai nevoie de ajutor?"

She blinked down at him. "What?"

He chuckled. She hated it. It hurt her pride. "I said, do you need any help?"

He was loud. Too loud. She righted herself on the branch, pulling to lean back on the trunk behind her. Then risking a peek, she checked on the dragon who was still munching on the dead cow with gusto.

She looked back down to find the man with his eyebrows raised at her, his face painting amusement. It was impossible not to take note of his red mane pulled into a low bun. He looked awfully familiar... and he was going to get them killed.

"Could you," she whispered as loudly as she could, "keep your voice down?"

The man snickered once more, showing no effort of lowering his tone. "Why?"

"Are you blind?" she wanted to strangle him. "There's a bloody dragon!"

The redhead glanced at the scaly beast and heaved out a sigh. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. It's way past breakfast. He's missing nap time."

Y/N looked at him incredulously. He shrugged, "But what can I do? He slept in this morning. Lazy beast." Looking back up, he asked, "Want to meet him?"

He's mental she thought. That had to be it.

But the redhead only laughed. He keeps laughing. He must've noticed the stupefied expression on her face because he simmered. "Give him a minute and you can come down. It's already his fifth haul so he's bound to get dozy and fly back to the nest." He started walking towards the clearing when he paused and turned back, "Although, you can come down now. I promise he won't eat you."

Y/N watched as the man walked up to the feasting dragon—she was peering behind the thick tree trunk, using it as a shield. He's insane. Drawing a wand from a sheath attached to his calf, the man aimed a stunning spell right by the beast's tail.

"Alright, Darius, I think you've had enough," he called. He kept his distance, a good few meters away, but his gait was calm, almost lazy.

The dragon glanced at the man, its fangs bloody. Y/N wanted to grab the redhead and run. But it was a crazy thought, and she was rooted on her spot on the tree branch, frozen in fear.

The man gave a sharp whistle and the dragon grunted, smoke coming out of its nostrils. It ignored him and continued to munch on the cow.

Another stunning spell was aimed right by its claws and the dragon emitted a low growl. Y/N didn't know if she was imagining it but the creature seemed sluggish on its feet, swaying... almost drowsy.

"Off you go," said the man, "up." He sent one more stunning spell right in front of its snout. It was a clear miss, purely intentional.

The dragon heaved a loud angry roar. But instead of diving for the man like she expected, it started flapping its wings, gaining momentum. Y/N held onto the tree trunk tighter so as not to be swayed by the sudden rush of winds the creature was yielding. And then with a strong push off the ground, up it soared, growling low in its throat, and was out of sight.

Y/N's legs felt like jelly slugs, but her arms refused to let go of the tree trunk. What in Merlin's name just happened?

"Y/N."

She gave a short yelp, coughing on her next breath. "Excuse me?"

The man was back, now by the foot of the tree once again. "Come down."

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

He had a really handsome smile. A really familiar, handsome smile...

"I should be offended," said the man. "Come down." There it was again, that smile. "I'll catch you."

I'll catch you.

I'll catch you....

 "Come on, Y/N, I'll catch you!"

"No you won't!" said Y/N. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

She was perched on the beech tree by the Black lake, her legs dangling above the shallow water. She had attempted to retrieve her Spellman's Syllabry textbook that Cassian Loxias chucked up the branches for fun.

"Yes I will, I promise," consoled Charlie. "I'm a prefect, remember?" he gestured to his badge, "I'll make sure you're safe."

Sniffing up snot that was escaping her nose, she hiccuped softly against the back of her hand. "Our prefect doesn't do that very much."

Charlie chuckled. "I'll make sure to have a word with Professor Sprout about her Hufflepuff prefects."

When he saw the horror on her face, he held up his hands, "It didn't come from you of course. Will you come down now? I swear I'll catch you."

Y/N looked into Charlie Weasley's eyes and saw nothing but pure candor. Biting her lip, she said, "Do cross your heart, or hope to die?"

He traced a cross right above his chest. "Cross my heart, or hope to die."

 "Y/N. Y/N?"

Y/N blinked.

Charlie Weasley. Charlie dragon-tamer Weasley. Charlie the hot brother Weasley—

"Are you still breathing? Do you need me up there?"

Trying to gather her bearings, Y/N extracted herself from her hold on the tree trunk, went down onto a squat, and leaped off, landing on the crunchy grass with a thump.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her as she dusted her trousers, "I see you don't need catching anymore."

She took in the man before her. "Charlie Weasley."

His grin was dazzling."Caught on, have you?

From up close, Y/N could now see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand...

There were so many things she could've done, seeing him again for the first time after all these years. He was gone as soon as he graduated Hogwarts, flying to Romania to study dragons. Everyone always thought Charlie would be going Quidditch pro, being captain and seeker. He had the build, the skills, and the charm. Hogwarts alone had fan clubs in his name and rumor had it that the Falmouth Falcons were just waiting for him to finish seventh year.

But others didn't see Charlie as Y/N did. They didn't see him hoarding books on care of magical creatures in the library. They didn't notice him sneaking off to Hagrid's on the weekends, taking Fang for walks or feeding the Blast Ended Skrewts in the garden. Nobody paid attention to the copy of Fantastic Beasts And Where to Find Them that Charlie practically glued to his side. Only Y/N did. And now that she thought about it, she didn't like that she knew so much. It made her feel like a creep.

So instead of hugging him in delight like she actually wanted, she took a swipe at his shoulder.

"You git," she hissed. "You scared me to death! How did you do that? I thought taming dragons was impossible."

"It is. Most of the time," Charlie shrugged. "Darius is a Romanian Longhorn. Mostly harmless compared to the others especially when he's full. Not that difficult to send him back to the nest when he can barely stand on his feet."

"Harmless? I could've been dessert!"

Charlie laughed. He was still always laughing. "You look delicious, yes, but I'm not letting Darius have you."

What the fu—Y/N inhaled slowly, cautiously. Then exhaled through her nose. She didn't know how to respond. Seeing him again after so long, without warning or preparation, was messing with her senses

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he said and walked closer. Close enough to tugged at her braid. She didn't know why he did it, but he looked like he just had to. "You look good."

Y/N's heart was beating rapidly once more, but this time, for all the wrong reasons. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Charlie gazed back into her eyes as if seeing her for the first time.

"Too long."

Again, she didn't know how long it took her to reply, but she cleared her throat, "How—did you know it was me? The first time?"

Charlie's eyes were still roaming all over her face. "No. Not until you spoke."

Y/N must've held a questioning look because he added, "I'll never forget that voice."

He was saying such strange things. Were they strange? Or was it just because he affected her so?

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you wouldn't come down, would you? I see you still have a thing for trees."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know the dragon reservation was in the alps," she said. "Do you know we're camping nearby?"

"'Course I do. You lot are beside dragon territory for a reason."

Excitement and fear raised Y/N's nerves. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie bit his lip. "You'll see."

"Are we digging in the reservation?"

He was walking out into the clearing now, beelining back towards the opening of the gorge.

"Charlie!" Y/N jogged to keep up. "Are we?"

He only smiled, "Patience, darling."

Darling. He used to call her that all the time even when they were back in Hogwarts. She always tried to ignore the fluttering feeling her chest made when he used the endearment, reminding herself that he must've used it on everyone else, not just her.

"Why did no one back at camp tell us anything?"

"I probably should've kept my mouth shut," was his only reply. They were crossing the two mountains flanking the stream, and as soon as they cut through the border, Y/N felt the same sensation she did when she went through the clearing. But this time in reverse, it was as if the raindrop was sucked back up.

She glanced up at the mountains. "Did you feel that?"

"Shield spells," explained Charlie. "To keep the muggles out. Temperature charms as well to regulate the reservation climate. Although the dragons do enough of their warming on their own, it's for precaution."

They walked up the stream, tracing back Y/N's previous path.

"Are you bringing me back to camp?" she asked.

"That, and I have to see Digby. Iron out tomorrow's schedule."

"So we are digging inside the reservation," Y/N didn't know if she was more thrilled or afraid.

Charlie glanced at her, "You heard nothing from me."

Studying his features as they strolled, Y/N couldn't help but admire how much Charlie Weasley grew up to be. He's always been lean and strong, especially with being an athlete back at Hogwarts, but now he seemed so much larger than life. Red tendrils were escaping his low bun and framing his chiseled face, there were a few scars on his nose and one under his lip. She shouldn't have been able to see it but she couldn't stop staring. He was big. Stockier than she'd ever seen him; hands wrapped in gauze and rope slung over a hook on his hip.

Charlie Weasley, dragon-tamer.

And he was staring right back at her.

"You have to take me to see more dragons," Y/N breathed. She didn't know where her voice went. It was all airy and she didn't like it. She hoped he would assume it was because of their walk.

Charlie stopped, deep brown eyes boring into her own. He was panting slightly too. Maybe it was the walk.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Promise."

"Cross your heart?" she almost whispered. Almost.

Two fingers traced a cross over Charlie's chest, his gaze not leaving hers, "Cross my heart."

[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet-Hiei

Word Count: 2125 

A/N: Warning in advance, i’m in a fluffy mood and I want there to be more yyh fanfics so i’ll be writing some for the next few days. I’ll try and sprinkle in some other content but for now, it is what it is. Also I changed some of the prompt options so there’s that. Also I’m going to be posting content for more obscure/dead/forgotten fandoms in general so if you have any ideas lmk!

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hiei isn’t super affectionate in the traditional sense. Like if you want a boyfriend who’ll hold your hand and kiss your cheek and what not, Hiei is not that person at all. His affection is moreso bickering, especially in public, he’ll act like you’re such a nuisance but like he’s still looking out for you. In private, he’s a bit more affectionate. He really does trust you with his life, he’s just a little emotionally repressed so he shows his affection by sleeping and truly relaxing around you. In his most vulnerable moments, he’ll lay his head in your lap and let you rub his hair while he falls asleep.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The closest thing we see to Hiei having a best friend is Kurama and maybe Yusuke. As a best friend Hiei is very blunt, he shows his care for you by being upfront, it can honestly come off as a little callous but if you know him well (which you should as his best friend) you know that he means well, he just wants to protect his pride while still showing he cares about you. Your friendship probably starts after one of you saves the other.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hiei likes cuddles but he absolutely refuses to ask for them. He doesn’t like to be too close at first and will initially only hold your hand when he knows for sure that you’re asleep. Eventually though, he gets more comfortable with you and your relationship and allows you to hold him even when you’re awake.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hiei and domestic don’t really go together in the same sentence. His version of domesticity is protecting each other and then coming home and being near each other. He doesn’t want to settle down in the traditional “human” sense but he does like the idea of having somewhere permanent to come back to with you. He isn’t the best at cooking but he will try his best to help clean, he often uses his speed to get them done faster, all the while teasing you at how slow you’re going. Like okay buddy, you’re doing what I want anyways so who’s really losing?

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If you and Hiei ever broke up, he’d be silently devastated. It took a lot out of him to open up to you and the fact that you were able to leave that (at least for him) is devastating. If Hiei ever does get with another person, it’ll be long after you’ve both broken up and moved on.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Hiei has sort of already made a commitment to you by the time you’ve even entered your relationship, regardless of how long you’ve known each other, he entered the relationship because of how deep his connection with you is. He wouldn’t want to/care to get married by “human” standards, in his mind you’re already married/mated. Plus he couldn’t legally marry you because of the fact that he doesn’t have any governmental documentation.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Hiei isn’t emotionally gentle at all at least outwardly. He’s very grumpy to protect his pride and image but he’s secretly a big ol softie. He always keeps track of you with his Jagan and if you’re ever in danger, Hiei is never far. When it comes to your emotional needs, he tries his best, he usually just positions himself in the best spot to be there should you need anything from him.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Hiei during the course of his relationship with you tries to become more and more affectionate with you, becoming more and more open with giving and receiving it. He ofc isn’t into PDA at all but he will reciprocate your hugs if you give. At the beginning of your relationship he just stands there awkwardly but later on in your relationship he’ll wrap his arms around you and awkwardly start to pat your back. His hugs are pretty awkward but the fact that he even lets you hold him means more than his awkwardness with affection.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Hiei thinks that the fact he “puts up with you” is evidence enough and that he shouldn’t have to say it. He maintains that until one day you just break and tell him you love him and would like to hear him say it back, he just blushes and turns mumbling out a rushed, ‘I love you too.’

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

He gets jealous and also not jealous if that makes sense. Like he knows that no other could ever measure up to him and as such isn’t threatened by anyone even if they are flirting with you. But other times he sees you smiling with some stranger or laughing at a joke your co worker said and he wonders if maybe you’d be happier with someone better than him. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Hiei’s kisses are rough and warm and passionate. He gives you kisses usually to just straight up fluster you, he loves the dreamy expression you get and the little wobble in your knees when he kisses with you and it fills him with a sense of pride to elicit such a reaction from you. 

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Oh goodness. Please do not let Hiei loose around children unsupervised. He will just stare at them and watch as they get into whatever mischief they want and just still be staring at them. He’ll only intervene if they bother him or are in life-threatening danger.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

In the rare mornings that Hiei hasn’t completely disappeared after waking up earlier than you, he likes to just look at you. It’s a little odd but he likes to just bask in your presence, he enjoys being with you and it’s the second softest you’ll see him throughout the day.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Hiei are incredibly tender, you spend the night in each others arms and you’ll want for naught in terms of warmth. As a fire demon, Hiei tends to give off a lot more heat than most so if you get cold at night he’ll just move closer to you and let you put your cold hands and feet on him.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hiei is a incredibly private and mysterious person. He reveals things about himself very slowly, most things are unsaid, revealed through his actions and reactions. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hiei is somewhat brash, impulsive, and grumpy which can lead to fights between the two of you. Given the fact that he is not at all patient, fights can get heated rather quickly. However, Hiei is also able to tell when he’s getting too worked up so he often ends up leaving mid-fight to walk away and cool down .

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers the smallest things about you like the way you prefer to part your hair but fails at remembering things like your anniversary. Although, he is a telepath so in that aspect, he’s lucky. No, he doesn’t read your mind, he respects your privacy too much to do that, Botan on the other hand...

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moments in your relationship both occurred during the Dark Tournament:

1) Was when he passed out from using his Dark Dragon technique and woke up to see you asleep at his bedside. The fact that you were there for him and stood by his side at his most vulnerable it... it meant a lot.

2) Was when you all exited the stadium and in all your excitement you kissed him yelling “You guys did it!”, he was very much embarrassed afterwards but even now just thinking about how happy you were brings a smile to his face.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Hiei loves to play the role of a silent protector, please let him lol. Even if you can see or sense him, pretend you can’t for his sake, it makes him feel cool. As for how he likes to be protected, he fully expects you to be reliant on him for protection if you’re a non-fighter, and he’s ok w that but if you like protect him from someone who’s trying to attack from behind, he might just admit he’s in L-word with you.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Hiei admittedly doesn’t put effort into dates or anniversaries. It’s one of the biggest challenges in your relationship, how he’d rather keep his pride than make an effort to be with you. You end up planning most dates as Hiei is perfectly content for you both to just stare off into space in the middle of the countryside. He will go along with whatever plans you have though, and he’ll steal you anything you want. In fact, the only thing Hiei’s actually bought you was a sword, you assume it was very expensive based on the sheer quality and amount of detail but he never says where he got it from.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?)

A bad habit that Hiei has are his aforementioned pride. The man is stubborn and will maintain said stubbornness until proved wrong beyond deniability, at which point he’ll avert his eyes and apologize. Another bad habit he has is that he won’t tell you if he’s struggling until he’s in so much shit that not telling you would be a matter of life or death. Like he’ll be dictating his will to you randomly one day while you’re just mindin your business, it’s terrible. His pride and secretive nature tend to be the cause of your most serious disagreements.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not concerned with his looks beyond the bare minimum. Hiei never really tries with his look whether it’s his clothes or general attitude/way he presents himself. He does keep clean of course, but in terms of fashion... he’ll wear whatever he’s got until it’s nothing more than rags.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Hiei never feels incomplete without you, he’s much too independent and self-reliant to ever feel incomplete because of one person even if that is you. However, he does feel different, considering the fact that you are 90% of his impulse control and kindness, he does find himself getting irritated and acting much more brashly whenever you aren’t around.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

You are quite literally the only relationship he’s ever been in, coincidentally you are also one of four people he can consistently tolerate.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

Hiei gets a bad taste in his mouth at people who lack honor and integrity. He thinks that above all, whether you live or die, you should do so with honor. As such, he dislikes traitors or sycophants or the like, he doesn’t care if you’re an ass, as long as you’re honest about it.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Hiei in general doesn’t sleep regularly and when he does it isn’t really good, restful sleep. Maybe very once in a while, he’ll get a decent night’s rest with you but overall, the man sleeps when his body forces him to.Also like to think that he can sleep with his eyes open, or at least with his Jagan open if he isn’t completely depleted of energy.

[honney-pies]

Ma Cherie❤︎

Birthday Girl

Pairing: Inumaki Toge/F! oc/ Okkotsu Yuuta

Fandom : Jujutsu Kaisen

Summary : this is how Kanae got her name and how found family is like my fav trope.

Content warning/chapter warning: character death, referenced/implied abuse, referenced/implied sexual assault, excessive blood loss, thoughts of self-hatred, depression, feeling helpless, a knife is used, her mother SUCKS, please please please seek help if you or a loved one is being abused or in a harmful environment. I'm not sure if there is anything else, but please let me know and I will add it to the list!

Length: 2.5k

A/n: GUYS I'M SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POSTED I FORGOT THAT I SAVED THIS TO DRAFTS! the next couple chapters are going to be more gaining context while also establishing how she interacts with others. the next two chapters (and this one too i think) contain spoilers for JJK season two. Kanae's birth name is Akane, but after this chapter I don't plan on referencing that. right now i'm sitting at about three chapters either nearly completed or started. please let me know if you liked this post! as always there is a self insert version here and on ao3, feel free to read it if you would like! i'm still not sure how long this fic will be, but i'm aiming for about ten chapters.Kanae calls herself Akane anytime before she turns five.

Teaser

  ─── ⋆⋅ November  2016 ⋅⋆ ─── 

Kanae was looking at Panda and Maki sparring when she saw someone sit down in the corner of her eyes. Yuuta kept on staring at the sixteen year old, and she was beginning to feel her skin get itchy from feeling watched. He kept on looking at her then looking away, clearly he wanted to ask him something, but she didn’t want to bring it up if he didn’t intend to ask. 

“Kamo-san, why do some people call you Akane and others call you Kanae?” The girl in question looked at the dark haired boy and stared at him. 

“O-oh, you don’t need to answer that if you don’t want to! I didn’t mean to put you on the spot!” Kanae laughed, Yuuta was definitely too sweet for this world. 

“Do you want the short version or the longer one,” she asked. 

“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me,” he replied. 

     ─── ⋆⋅December 29, 2005⋅⋆ ─── 

It had been her birthday. Akane had just turned five years old and Shoko, Suguru and Satoru made sure to give her the best day ever. It had been her first birthday since her mother first tried to hurt her and Yaga banned her from entering the school. 

That night she was determined to sleep in her old room by herself and prove to herself that she grew up and could overcome what had happened to her. For a little over a month she had been alternating rooms and everyone had taken turns walking her to and from school along with having her accompany them on missions, obviously staying in the car, if no one else was available to watch her. All to protect her from her mother. 

When she had gotten into the room everything seemed fine, safe. Satoru was one room down and Suguru was in the same hallway as well. Shoko was still at her parents until classes started again. Satoru and Suguru had stayed with her for most of the night until she said she wanted to spend the night alone. They just looked at each other and agreed. What she didn’t know was that Suguru had let a small curse to watch over her, moreso to let him know if there were any changes in her mood or breathing. They both made their promises of seeing Akane tomorrow and to come into either one of their rooms should she feel scared. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Satoru?” The boy in question just looked at him and that’s all Suguru needed to know before grabbing his hand and holding it until they reached his room. The two went to their rooms and began to fall asleep. Although neither one was really able to do so. Akane’s well being was at the forefront of both of their minds. 

At first Akane didn’t know what was going on. She had thought that a tree was scratching at her window, maybe it had been a stray cat, but when she heard the shattering of her bedroom window break, she knew that it was no tree or cat. She knew it was something far worse. The five year old panicked and hid herself underneath the blanket and made herself small, as if that would keep the scary monsters away. 

We, as the readers of this story, know that hiding away under blankets will never keep the monsters at bay, but Akane was still a child, a child who didn’t fully know of the harsh realities the world, especially her own, had in store. 

The creaking of the wooden floors had been her only way of knowing where the monster was. The noises grew closer until one side of the bed dipped down and a soft voice called out to her. 

“Akane, it’s your mother. Come on out and tell me hi.” Akane was confused to say the least. From what she understood Mother was no longer allowed at the school since Yaga refused her entry. She had been told that if she did see her mother that she must go to another mom and ask to call her family or hide. 

This, however, wasn’t the first time Akane’s mother was not allowed to visit her for a period of time. From what she’s been told her mother got sad a lot. From what she heard while others thought she wasn’t listening was that her mother was unstable and had severe manic depression. She didn’t know what that really meant, but she knew that sometimes her mom wouldn’t be allowed to see her for a little bit. It happened pretty often, so Akane thought it was normal for her to disappear and show up out of nowhere. 

Unfortunately this was not one of those times. This time she felt her mothers animosity, this time she felt no love coming from her mother. Akane knew that her mother, the one she tries to remember, was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was a shell filled with rage, guilt, and anguish. This manifested itself into a pit in her mothers stomach, a pit that blamed Akane. Who she once viewed as her greatest achievement, her greatest creation, she could only view as her antagonizer.

That’s the funny thing about trauma, sometimes the blame can get misplaced. An innocent child can get the brunt of the aftermath of another man’s hand. 

Akane tried to sink herself as far down into her bed as she could, however the mattress didn’t swallow her up and protect her as she had hoped. Her mother only got angry and ripped the blanket off of her and clamped a bloodied, beaten hand over the child's mouth. Her child's mouth. 

She tried to squirm away, but her mother placed her full body weight onto her and forced her to stay put. 

“You listen here you insolent brat! You will keep your mouth shut and listen to your mother when you're told. I should have never left you here, you clearly don’t know what manners are. Now, nod your head if you’ll listen to mother like a good little girl.” Akane nodded her head, thinking that it would keep her safe. The hand that was placed over her mouth removed itself and reached to the side of her mothers clothes. She pulled out a knife and Akane had never been more scared in her life. 

“You have failed me for the last time, Akane,” hissed her mother, “you weren’t born a boy, you look like your father, you look like that other boy from your beloved fathers mistress, you have a hereditary cursed technique, one from the men's side. You have a family here, a happy one. You evade your fathers hand and live your life protected by the strongest. All of which I did for you, yet you never bother to show me gratitude. You are the product of your fathers control. Control over me, control over my body, control over my life. You are the embodiment of everything, everything, I have tried so hard to forget. I hate you! I wish you were never born!” 

The knife was lifted into the air. 

The knife was pushed into Akane’s small, fragile body. 

“Because of you, I can never be free!” The knife made its way to her stomach. She watched as her mother cried, as she wept and sobbed. Akane mirrored her mother and cried. She felt guilty for living and causing someone, especially her own mother, this much pain. As she watched the knife be lifted in the air again, she let a scream crawl its way from her throat. It came out garbled since she was choking on her own blood. She grabbed the blade and pushed it away from her body with all the strength that was left in her bloodied body. Through it all she screamed Satoru’s name, hoping that he heard her and would save her. Akane’s bedroom wall imploded on itself and two boys raced through. Suguru tackled her mother to the ground, effectively saving Akane. Satoru ran to her side and wrapped her in bedsheets, trying to stop the bleeding. The young girl looked over at her mother and noticed how she didn’t look human anymore, how she looked like a curse. 

She screamed and screamed at her daughter, blaming her, hating her. 

“I hate you! I wish you were never born!” Suguru stabbed her. The screaming turned into slurred, garbled speech.

Suguru had never seen someone actively turn into a curse before that night. He watched Akane’s mother turn into a curse right before his eyes, and just like so many times before he absorbed the girl’s mother. He hoped she would never see her mother ever again. 

Satoru rushed Akane to Shoko’s room, knowing she could save the girl. As they were leaving, Akane had three words falling from her lips.

“I love you.” 

When Akane woke back up she was in the medical bay, Shoko was watching over her. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” She pulled out her phone, “ Gojo, she woke up just now.” Shoko walked over to her and began to assess her. About half way through, the door slammed open and in ran Satoru, with Suguru not far behind. 

“You scared me! My lovely little sister scared me!” He threw himself onto her, but made sure he wasn’t actually hurting her. Suguru quickly joined them and all three of them curled up together while Shoko finished her tests. 

Later that day the four of them spent the night in Shoko’s room, it was the farthest away from the incident that happened last night. Their time together was spent goofing off and acting as children and above all else, making Akane feel loved. 

When he thought everyone else was asleep, Satoru pulled Akane closer to him and saw that she, too, hadn���t gone to bed.

“Can’t sleep,” he asked. She shook her head.

“I don’ know if I like who I am. Mother didn’ like me.” Satoru’s heart ached for her. He had been watching over the girl, mainly just keeping her company since he was 13, she was one. Their parents struck a deal to essentially groom the young girl into being a weapon for him if he desires. Though Satoru didn’t know how a measly toddler could be seen as one. 

He saw Akane all the time as he got older, when he moved into the dorms the two were practically inseparable. In fact when he introduced Suguru and Shoko to her, he referred to her as his little sister, in return she began to call him ‘toru-nii’. 

“You know, you don’t have to be who you were completely, you could be someone else. You could rise from the ashes like that one bird from Harry Potter!” She giggled quietly and rolled her eyes, although she didn’t know how to do that quite yet, so she just looked up. 

“Phoenix Fawkes, you’re there when Sugu-nii reads them too, should at least remember the names.” Satoru rolled his eyes and poked her forehead. 

“You do know we love you, right? I love you. You bring us, me, so much happiness, love, and you deserve those things too. You deserve affection. Kanae, do you know what that means? It means ‘love and affection.’ We could call you that if you want.” 

The young girl looked up at him and smiled like he was the greatest thing to ever happen to her. He watched as she began to be overtaken by dreams, he wished they would remain happy ones. 

“I wan’ t’do that, dad.” Ak- Kanae drifted to sleep, and Satoru couldn't help but let out the biggest, brightest smile the world had ever seen. This was the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. Kanae had never called him that before, although there had been a few times where she nearly did. He couldn’t be happier than he was at this moment. He pulled the girl as close as he could without hurting her. 

In the darkness of the room he met Suguru’s eyes. He smiled at Satoru and placed his hand on top of his. 

 ─── ⋆⋅ November 2017 ⋅⋆ ───

“My dad gave it to me. I was five at the time and he wanted me to be able to choose who I would become, to let go of my biological family and move forward. To have a constant reminder that I’m loved and deserve to be happy. Some people call me Akane to piss me off, some do it because they don’t know or simply don’t care.” Yuuta looked at the girl and he knew that she must have been through something that most wouldn’t have recovered from. 

“I thought you and your family don’t talk.” 

“I talk to my older brother sometimes.I guess you wouldn’t know since you aren’t familiar with the politics and all that, but he was here for the Sister School exchange event, he goes to the Kyoto school. In fact he’s the only remotely tolerable one from my family, although I don’t go out of my way to interact with them. I don’t talk to anyone from there anymore besides him, his name is Noritoshi. He doesn’t really know how to speak for himself and it annoys me, but he respects my decision to leave even if he thinks it was a stupid idea.” 

“Oh, the one with the shut eyes?” 

“They’re narrow, but yeah, that’s him.” 

Yuuta looked at her the whole time, giving her his undivided attention. In that moment she realized she liked the feeling of his eyes on her, her skin didn’t itch as much. 

“Like Maki,” he asked. She sighed.

“Fortunately I never spent more than a couple days at the estate at a time. I grew up here, actually. My mother gave a huge amount of money to the school to let me stay here. That and Yaga and her were friends I think.  Maki had to live with them for years. I didn’t, I had the privilege to live away from them in a loving family.” 

Yuuta looked like he had more to ask, but she saw Satoru sit down next to her. He saw her smile and bump her shoulder with his, no Infinity to get in the way. 

“Hi, sensei!” He grinned at the two.

“What were my beloved students talking about? Anything interesting?” 

“My name.” Satoru looked at her through his bandages and saw her staring at the sky, running her fingers over her clothes, where the scars were, are. 

“That’s a different kind of interesting, Kanae. You know I think I did a great job helping you pick that name out! It suits you.” Yuuta looked over confused, he was about to speak up when the girl tapped his shin with her foot, luckily he got the idea and closed his mouth. 

“I’m the one that agreed with you, so get off your high horse, sensei.” The two let out twin laughs as Satoru got up. ‘A meeting with the muscle man,’ he said. Before Yuuta even had a chance to speak, she beat him to the punch.

“He raised me. I only call him Gojo or sensei when talking around at school. To me he’ll always be toru-nii.”

“You said your father gave you that name.” She smiled.

“I said my dad did. Not my father.”

“Oh... Does he know you see him as a dad,” he asked. She nodded her head. 

“C’mon Okkotsu, let's practice.” He stared up at the girl as she offered her hand to him. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. 

He liked the way her hand felt against his, though he didn’t know if Rika would appreciate the thought.

______________________________________________________________

the next chapter, 'family bonding' should be out Saturday, September 2nd! thank you so much for reading and I will make sure to get a masterlist in place soon!

-honney

[lovehatecomics]

Thanks for the kind comment on my art of Suli, Kalibak, and my OC!

I kinda want to do more character designs in the same vein in the future. I might do Orion, Barda and Scott next, although for Scott I'd have to figure out how New Genesis folks would look in that style, and right now I don't really have a lot of ideas. Maybe they're more glowy / less crusty looking / have shiny scales.

I like the more alien looking design Snyder cut went with for Steppenwolf and Desaad (there's also concept art of Darkseid with the same traits - the extra fingers and the legs and chin spikes, you can find it on artstation) but I definitely miss the more colorful original Kirby designs.

Also like, I hope someone at some point discovers Suli and does something with her as a character, I just think she's really neat and deserves more development beyond "dead gf for sad backstory". Like, would Darkseid still become what he did if she stayed alive? Would she leave him if it were the case? How'd Kalibak fare in such a scenario?

Hello! I'm sorry I didn't reply asap bc this gave me a lot of Thoughts & Ideas racing in my head all day. I haven't read all of the new gods comics, basically take all of this with a grain of salt.

****

Yes yes yes please do designs for Scott, Barda and Orion. Visually, it would be good to have Scott and Orion looking out of place since neither of them are on their home planet.

Personally I hc New Genesis gods as being vain and all about appearances. They'd likely have a glow/shimmer to them, pleasing to the senses etc. I say this based on how Orion acts about his "true face", which could easily be seen as a dead give away of where he came from/his heritage.

It would be so interesting if Suli were still alive, there's so many possibilities! Like Darkseid obviously loved her and his mom Heggra didn't like that bc she felt like Suli made him soft. I can still see her forcing Darkseid to have a kid with Tiggra, who Darkseid never loved and vice versa. I can even see her disowning Kalibak altogether and rejecting him as Darkseid's heir bc of Suli.

NOW, imagine if Queen Heggra still tried to poison Suli and she lived? Imagine Suli turning the tables on Heggra and having her killed instead, leading Darkseid to rule and her son to take his rightful place as Darkseid's heir. I want Suli to still be kind, but also sharp and capable of defending herself. She's a scientist and sorceress, I refuse to believe she would have died by poison.

Does no harm and takes no shit, shouldn't be underestimated bc of her "soft" nature etc. Suli can be frighteningly cold and calculative towards those who wrong her and those she love. Hmm…. I imagine Suli and Tiggra would know of each other bc of Heggra. They wouldn't be friends, buuuuuuuuuuuuuut i can see Suli ensuring Tiggra is healthy since she's carrying Darkseid's son (moreso bc Suli loves Darkseid than anything)

Once Darkseid takes over, Suli would likely prefer staying out of the spotlight. I like to believe that she (like other scientists/ sorcerers and sorceresses) is highly respected for her work in Apokolips. While she isn't a ferocious warrior like Tiggra, Suli uses her mind for the improvement of Apokolips. Brains over Brawn.

The Pact could still happen, Darkseid using Orion instead of Kalibak. Suli would probably hear of this after the fact and try to comfort Tiggra, who would likely drive her away in anger. I imagine Kalibak and Darkseid's relationship would be better if Suli were alive. I mean, I also headcanon that Kalibak had gotten his kindness (however little and fleeting) from Suli. The first thing that came to mind was how Kalibak let that little girl live, something that would clearly be frowned upon.

Suli.... might leave Darkseid in the end or as he delves deeper and deeper in his pursuit for the Anti-Life equation. But I could also see her standing at his side to the end. Either way, I wouldn't want Suli to die.

[fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper]

OBEY ME BROTHERS FAVORITE/PREFERRED MASSAGE AREAS

Being demon lords, student council officers, attending classes, suffering with each other’s bullshit all day, dealing with MC’s antics, and personal affairs has to be stressful and tiring. So MC occasionally offers to massage most of the brothers to help them relax!

Mammon:

At first Mammon was hesitant and mocking about getting casual massages from you so often, because why would he ever need them??

Eventually his tune changed and he almost demands them now, and daily too.

But don’t expect it’s because he actually thinks you’re good at it or anything. He just lets you do it because who wouldn’t want to touch THE Great Mammon, even though he should charge you for taking up his time

Although if you threaten to stop your sessions Mammon backtracks so fast you’re surprised he didn’t get some form of whiplash from it

You quickly learn he has a lot of preferences for where you can massage

His main favorite area is the middle of his shoulder blades in his upper back. Being tied so tightly and hung up from the ceiling has to be killer on his muscles here. This area feels so tense and rigid you’re surprised Mammon doesn’t complain about how sore this area must feel. You use your knuckles for this area moreso than your fingers to help relieve the knots.

His second spot is the middle of the back of his head that aligns with the tips of his ears. You personally think he just likes the touches and caresses you give while playing lightly with his hair, because sometimes you feel his body shivering and see the flutter of his eyes as he loses himself to the touch of your hands

Belphegor:

It’s hard to really pinpoint any definite locations on his body, because he falls asleep so damn quickly

The moment you start he’s already comfortable and beginning to doze off

You have learned he likes the top of his head being rubbed and scratched with occasional trips from your hands going down to his neck and massaging the muscles there

You assume he might have a preference for massages on his hips and pelvis area, but you don’t know for certain because he’s out like a busted light the moment you start working there

Beelzebub:

He doesn’t initially seem to be affected by massages much, and you even wonder if he likes them

Eventually you learn it’s because you’re not going to the areas that actually affect him, because you’re usually working on regions that are more commonplace for massages

You’re surprised you didn’t think to start here first! It’s his stomach. Of course

It’s a bit awkward and odd starting off, but you eventually get the gist of where he seems to like your therapeutic touches

The first spot you learned he responded to positively was around his naval, a couple inches from his belly button

The second spot isn’t very far from the first. It’s actually just below his naval.

When you massage his toned stomach it makes you think of a cat kneading its bed, because, honestly, that’s all you’re doing with your fingers. There’s not much technique required for Beel

You do learn on one occasion when Beel complained about his jaw hurting that he likes to have you use your thumb or index finger’s knuckle to lightly yet firmly press against the beginning of his jawline under his ears. Not very often though. Only when his jaw cramps from eating big mouthfuls of food

Leviathan:

After Levi had his back problems, struggled to stand, and walked around looking like an old grandpa you offered to help him loosen up his muscles whenever he had long gaming sessions

You’re surprised by his affirmation to let you when he’s normally so against physical contact or having anyone so intimately close

You’re astounded by how many locations he has that he prefers to be manipulated into relaxation by your fingers

Obviously he generally enjoys his back being massaged. The more you learn and work around his back regions, however, you find more spots he seems to respond to positively. Nothing particular but you linger on them longer, especially around the center where his spine and pelvis join into his hips

You learn his hands and wrists are a big spot for him. He especially enjoys between his thumb and index finger joints because of his constant hand positions with his controllers and handheld consoles. He likes the inside of his wrists being lightly rubbed between the bone and main blood vein

He likes a good behind the ear rubdown as well from the stress caused by his headphones

Satan:

Satan was actually a lot easier to persuade than you thought initially

Being the Avatar of Wrath, unsurprisingly, causes a lot of anger and stress.

You’re impressed how Satan can maintain such a calm and collected attitude most of the time until you start getting into massaging and you feel his back

You can easily feel the aggravated muscles and tense knots in his shoulders and back region.

When you first started you could feel his muscles twitch as you worked to undo the tension from them. Satan would sometimes sigh audibly as you had more sessions and learned where to center your attention

He’s not really receptive to massages in other areas aside from his back and shoulders

Asmodeus:

Asmo has mentioned several times that he has sensitive skin so you have to be delicate with his body~

So you’ve learned his favorite spots to massage over time based on his reactions and comments

The first favorite spot you learn is his calves on the inside just above his ankles

The second area is just right above his crotch region where his hips hinge and meet his lower stomach. It’s a small area, and sometimes you miss it, but when you find it and slowly press on it, Asmo will definitely let you know!

He likes his massages to be slow and intimately sensual, gentle yet reaffirming on the touches

Lucifer:

Ah. Lucifer.

He was amused when he started hearing from his brothers that you apparently have magic fingers. He was impressed when he noticed how Satan started loosening his shoulders in his stance. It was a subtle change that the other boys wouldn’t have noticed, but Lucifer did.

Lucifer has yet to come to you for a massage, but you have a feeling it’ll be soon

You can’t help but think what his places would be. Maybe he has a rigid back from how straight he stands and sits all the time. He’s always at his desk, so maybe he has strained shoulders and arms. Maybe he has headaches so head massages could be a central area?

You’ll know eventually

If you have any requests/headcanons for the brothers, don’t hesitate to send them to me! I had fun doing this one on my own, so I want to do more. SFW/NSFW is okay, but please, remember I have a right to refuse any I don’t want to do. ❤️