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incognit0slut · 10 months

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All I Need

Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:

Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making

words: 2077

A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲

“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”

SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.

He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.

"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.

He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.

But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.

Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.

Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.

Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.

You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.

As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.

Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless.

The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."

Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."

A whine broke out of you.

"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."

You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.

Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.

The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"

You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."

He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."

When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.

They were so full of love.

And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.

You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.

"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.

"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."

His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.

There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.

"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"

Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."

You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"

Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.

Marry me.

You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?

And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.

You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.

You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.

"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."

He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."

His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.

"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."

A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.

You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.

He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion.

And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

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art · 11 months

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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #deb jj lee #jdebbiel

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jaylver · 7 months

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ROCKLAND — P.SH

synopsis: almost like a nightmare, park sunghoon plagues your present just as much as your past regrets had done. however, this time around, you and him decided to right your wrongs one last time.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, miscommunications, angst, second chance romance

warning(s): profanities, brief mentions of smoking, drinking, partying and alcohol

wc: 8k

a/n: i'm BACK. this has been in the works for far too long because of the constant writer's block so i'm not sure if it's good or not, plus it's my first exes to lovers so please be nice <3 greatly inspired by gracie abram's "rockland", so do give it a listen too! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

If there was one thing you’d regret forever in this lifetime, it would be ending things with the love of your life.

You admit it, you’re selfish. Selfish for wanting to leave the town you grew to hate, selfish for prioritising yourself and chasing your dreams, choosing to leave the people you loved instead. Painted a villain in the eyes of many close to the person you once went home to and even the man himself. But, how could he fully blame you when he was equally selfish too?

Park Sunghoon thought keeping you in the cage of this small town was going to make him a happy man. He often fantasised about the possibility of you and his future together, completely pushing aside the thought of you leaving, until it actually happened.

He was angry. He let himself be consumed by his own feelings and mindlessly projecting his anger and blame on you, while you regretfully did the same.

Pools of tears and venomous words spewed out of impulse left you scarred and broken down. It was a bad ending that you’d see in movies coming to life. The moment you had everything packed and goodbyes said, you figured leaving was for the best, now that your ex hates you and his friends who probably felt the same.

It was a shame, though. Heading to somewhere far from home with a heavy heart knowing you didn’t have the chance to see him once more. Frankly, you were a coward, and so was he.

That explained why returning back home was the scariest thing you had to face in a while.

It was ironic, wasn't it? Coming back to the place you wished for years to escape and actually doing so, but eventually having to return after you dropped out of the college that you've been praying and praying to get into, only for it to be overwhelming and the city lights couldn't compare to the starry night of your hometown.

You suppose you got the thing you wanted, but it just wasn't what you imagined.

Freshly twenty-two and out of school, you figured home was what you needed in your next step before deciding if you should re enrol. However, you find yourself not having the guts to face your family and friends, not after the promises turned out to be empty.

"You should quit smoking,"

Yunjin, your cousin and practically your closest friend growing up, was just a distance away when you spotted her, leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand. You found it amusing how she didn't cave into vapes instead in this day and age.

"Y/N!" She pushed the bud of her half smoked cigarette into the wall, then started jogging towards you, her dress flowing in the wind and boots making obnoxious clicks against the ground. There was a sense of relief in her eyes, her usual smile that you missed graced your presence. "God, I missed you, things aren't the same without you here,"

In the span of a few seconds of her hug, you took the chance to digest her words. Did that mean the traditions you've upheld are now gone? Parties, trips to the beach, all those?

"What?"

Yunjin pulled away, still managing a small smile. "I don't think things were ever the same since you left … and after you broke up with Sunghoon,"

You blinked, looking away into the distance. "I don't think I'll be welcomed,"

Yunjin scoffed, slapping your arm and scurrying to get your bags. "Don't say that! So not true. Everyone in the family is waiting for you to be back—"

"And talk behind my back about my failure in graduating? Yeah, no,"

‘‘That’s not going to happen,” Yunjin sighed, struggling with your bags and declining your help, but you still forcefully grabbed some knowing she’d eventually crumble. “I think they’ll get it,”

Would they?

Once you are settled into the car, bags successfully loaded into the trunk, you let yourself melt into the comforts of Yunjin’s passenger seat, finally getting to close your eyes and drift away. You thought it was best before having to face everything and everyone once again.

“What’s your plan now, anyway?”

Without opening your eyes, you envisioned a distant image in your head. “Take my time off and see if I’d like to re enrol or not. If I don’t, I’ll just go plan B,”

“Which is?”

“Accept the job offer in London,”

Yunjin almost hit the brakes out of shock, the news that came from you felt like it had hit her in the face, but somehow, she managed to keep her cool and not get you both killed. “What?” she shrieked.

“What?” you questioned back, sounding nonchalant as if this was just another normal offer that didn’t seem particularly significant. But it was.

“You have a job offer in London and you’re coming back here,”

“I left the city for a reason, it’d be stupid to go to another one right after,”

Yunjin exhaled, blinking in stupor. “Right,”

“How’s … everyone?”

Yunjin knew you weren’t referring to your family. Of course you’d know how your own family was doing, that’s a no brainer. What you were trying to mean was your old friend group. You couldn’t blame them for being mad at you, after all you were only a part of it because of Sunghoon.

“Heeseung’s graduating soon,” this was the first update you’ve gotten from Yunjin after those years away. It took you every will not to ask her about them, but here you were now, finally giving in. “They’re still the same, nothing’s changed,”

“What about him?”

Yunjin seemed hesitant, obviously holding back something that she didn’t want you to know. “I’m not going to explode upon hearing, you know that, right?” you joked lightheartedly, but secretly dreading hearing about him.

“I think he’s seeing someone,”

“Good for him,”

Would it be a crime to admit that you still missed your ex? Something in you was wishing you could rekindle a connection again now that you’re back, but all that hope shattered. If he had already moved on, why couldn’t you? Even after knowing how he probably hated and resented you for doing what you did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him back.

“That’s all?”

“You want me to go full crazy ex mode? You’re insane,” you shook your head, smiling a little, hoping Yunjin didn’t notice the speck of sadness swimming in your irises. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that I would like her … if I were slightly nicer,”

She let out a ‘tch’ in response, though grinning. “What are you going to do with them around? There’s no way you’d be able to fully avoid them,”

“What can I do? I’ll just have to coexist.”

Coexist was a funny word. How were you able to do that when you couldn’t even fully get over Sunghoon in the first place? Thinking about meeting him in flesh already made you feel like doubling over and projectile vomit. That was how pathetic you were, what a shame.

Settling in was easy. It was natural to be back home, way better than being in the noisy city and constantly surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. The question of why you left in the first place started burning your mind as you tossed around trying to sleep, but it only persisted to bug you. Then came the thoughts of Sunghoon and the friends you left behind, which prompted you to be fully awake, sitting up in bed.

It wasn't the greatest idea to reach for your phone and search for his contact name, just to recall the day you deleted his number. Yet, your memory never failed you, remembering the digits like it was first instinct, fingers already typing his number. Your thumb hovered over the green call button, a haze in your mind.

Inevitably, you shut your phone and dug your head into your pillow. He would've laughed then, if he had seen this happen, the exact moment of you almost caving in and finally saying the sorry you never gave him.

The pictures you saw of him on social media here and there made you wonder how he was and if he had already forgotten about you. There were a few recurring appearances of a girl that seemed to linger by his side in group pictures that caught your eyes. Who took your bed when you left? Who laughed at everything that he said? Was it that girl?

Just like the time you first had a crush on Sunghoon, you stayed awake thinking about him, except this time around, you were filled with regret instead of hope.

"Heeseung asked me about you,"

Yunjin's random confession in the middle of the day had surprised you. Lee Heeseung, the best friend of your ex who you swore hated your guts, asked about you? Shocker.

"What did you say?"

"I said something along the lines of you figuring out life and just chilling here until the time comes," Yunjin shrugged, and you nodded slowly. "But there's something he said that made me a bit … confused?"

"What?"

"He said they wanted to see you again,"

You raised your eyebrows, a hint of scepticism flashed over your eyes. "They want to see me? Tell me a better joke next time, thanks,"

"I'm not joking! I mean, he did say excluding Sunghoon, but the other guys wanted to know how you were now that you're back," Yunjin winced a little at the mention of your ex, but you waved it off.

"Are they treating me to dinner or something?"

"Well … no. But Heeseung asked me to bring you to their next party, which is in a few days," Yunjin's gaze softened, hand patting your back. "You know you don't have to come if you don't want to. I mean, after all that happened with you and them and Sunghoon,"

You let out a small sigh, absentmindedly fidgeting your fingers. "It's all in the past now. I'm sure Sunghoon has moved on with another girl, and maybe—just maybe—the guys do hate me less."

You never went to that party Yunjin mentioned.

It was hard to admit but you knew, deep inside you, you were afraid, too cowardly to face the people you once knew. Instead, you chose to linger around like a lost soul in a town full of the ghosts of your past.

It didn't help that the party was also in Sunghoon's house. How did they expect you to go in the first place? You thought you'd never step foot in there after you broke it off with him, and you were adamant on keeping it that way, but your heart got the worst of you.

On the night of the party, you drove around the neighbourhood, eventually stopping across the street of his house. You didn't know what got to you to do so, but you guessed reminiscence and bright lights coming from the house were the reason. The music was loud, people were coming in and out of the house, and the only thing you could think of was him.

That thought alone was enough to have you drive away, leaving the house further and further away into the background just as the memories of him being pushed into the back of your mind.

Rotting in your bed wasn't how your early 20s were meant to be spent, and avoiding almost everyone most definitely wasn't the case either.

Your family and Yunjin were the only people you saw daily, as for the friends you once had, they were long forgotten or didn't even bother to reach out. Except for Heeseung and the others.

That, to you, was a really funny thing to think about. People who stuck by you after the break up and swore to be your closest friends didn't try contacting you once you moved back, knowing damn well word traveled fast in the town; whereas the friends you thought hated you were the first to reach out.

"I'll go to that party," you said to Yunjin on a sunny afternoon tanning session by the pool, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, hiding the apprehension in your eyes.

"Really?" Yunjin almost jumped out of her seat. It was a party she had brought up days ago, still persistent on taking you out. At least this time around, it wasn't in Sunghoon's house, but her friend Chaewon's. "That's great! Chaewon and the girls are super nice, you'll love them. Let's pick a nice outfit for you, okay?"

Yunjin was by far the most enthusiastic one between you and her. She was picking out dresses and tops, literally rummaging through your closet for anything, and you had to remind her it was just a college party. So, you settled for a skirt and a plain top.

"Will you be okay? I'll stick by you," Yunjin had her arms around you, standing by the front door of Chaewon's house, hearing the music blaring from the inside.

"I'm fine—I think I'll be fine—I just don't want to run away from everyone anymore," it was mostly true, you thought it was inevitable to hide all the time, that wasn't how you're going to spend your life living.

"If there's anything, tell me, okay? We'll leave if you're getting sick," Yunjin gave your arm a final squeeze of assurance before crossing the threshold.

It was the same as every party you've gone to. Loud music, drunk college kids, liquor and beers strayed around, it reeked of your nightmare in a nutshell there.

Yunjin's friends were all as lovely as she had promised. The host herself was wobbling on her feet but managed to grace you with her humour. There was Sakura and Kazuha that you learned were foreign students.

Throughout the night, you were stuck by Yunjin, going from circle to circle and introducing yourself or recognising some of your past school mates. But, almost inevitably so, Heeseung, Jay and Jake had made an appearance too.

"Y/N," Jay was the first to call your name, causing you to turn your head at the familiar voice.

Your thoughts during then were jumbled into a mess. The people you were fighting to avoid were standing in front of you, all of which were much different than the memories you had of them in mind.

Three of them had grown taller, gained some muscles and matured in many ways. Jay's hair was dyed pink, Heeseung got new piercings and Jake had a tattoo on his finger. It was strange to admit they're the same people you knew despite feeling the complete opposite of familiarity.

"Hey—" you were cut off by Jay closing in and pulling you into a hug, this for once was something you remembered about him.

"We're so glad you're back," he whispered into your hair, squeezing you tight. It reminded you then that you were friends with him and the guys before you even dated Sunghoon, that connection was deeper than it seemed, and for it to be severed just because of a breakup was gut wrenching to realise. "We're sorry, Y/N, we're so sorry,"

His apology was genuine, that's for sure. Once you pull away, you let both Heeseung and Jake take turns to hug you, whispering apologies into your ear. It was odd, to accept their apologies and having to start afresh. You held onto them, just taking it in. To forgive was a big step, but maybe it was your first step.

You sat there, catching up with them and slowly getting comfortable just like the old days. Heeseung graduated and got a good job offer, Jay and Jake were still studying, both of which were in the same university. You were relieved there was nothing too awkward between you and them, or else you would have regretted your choices.

The night continued on with a few small talks and eventually you had to excuse yourself to the toilet. You wondered how Chaewon's house was so big, with halls that seemed to never end, or it could just be the effects of alcohol.

Stumbling around, you held onto the walls, passing by rooms occupied by people probably doing something unspeakable. You thought your peace of mind would be intact until the end of the night, but you were wrong. Upon turning a corner, you froze.

It was Sunghoon. It was him.

Grief was a funny feeling, especially when it comes to someone you once knew. You stared at him and there he was, like a ghost from your past coming back to haunt you. He was the shell of the person you loved, and you couldn't help but grieve the person he once was. What was he like now?

Before you could even turn around and make a run for it, his wandering eyes landed on you. He had the same thought process as you. Realisation, panic, sadness, confusion all mixed into a heap of feelings.

Your feet started moving on its own, as you stepped back, he took a step forward. Your breath became ragged, heart thumping hard and blood pumping in your ears. He was nearing, and you were running away, it was the same as before.

"Y/N!" He called out, and all it took was him to say your name again to have you stop in your tracks. Gosh, you were pathetic.

He was standing before you now, closer than he was a moment ago. It was then you realised how much he had changed too.

He was taller, smile lines etched much deeper into his face, almost changing along the same wavelengths with the others. There was something different about the way he looked at you, however. From love in his eyes that eventually changed into hatred was now filled with longing and confusion.

"Y/N," he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Sunghoon," you blinked, a frown unknowingly making its way to your face. You let a few beats of silence pass, conflicted and nervous. "I—I should leave,"

"No—!" his hand reached out for you, but you didn't feel his touch. He didn't dare to touch you, letting his hand linger before pulling it back to his side. "I mean, you don't have to leave,"

"I thought you hate me,"

Sunghoon's gaze fell to the floor, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He met your eyes once more. "I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't think I do, I never did,"

You blinked, a little surprised, a little hurt. All along he had made you think he hated your guts but he actually didn't? "Oh," you seemed to have lost the ability to talk or to compute a proper sentence.

You thought of the things you wanted to ask him. If he was still angry at you or if things were working for him. But, what came out was the question you've stored in the back of your mind instead.

"Are you with someone new?"

You figured he didn't expect such a question from you, much as you didn't expect yourself saying it. It was an itching thought, one that made you look like a typical ex, but you couldn't help it.

"I'm not," he sounded almost exasperated, as if having to squash down this rumour for the thousandth time.

"Oh … oh," you didn't know what to say, averting your gaze away from him and finding comfort in the wall behind him.

Sunghoon paused, gaze following yours, looking reluctant whether or not to continue the conversation, but alas, he did. "How have you been?"

"Bad," you laughed a little, and Sunghoon's ears perked at the sound of it that he hasn't heard for ages. "You?"

"I quit skating,"

That was surprising. How could he have? Skating was his dream, his past, present and supposed future, but now, it came crashing down. You didn't know if you should feel sorry for him, as you have been a part of his journey, but one bit of you also seemed to have started mourning the changed Sunghoon that stood before you.

"Why?"

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pocket with a solemn look. "I lost interest. I'm into music now, I'm in a band with the guys,"

You heaved a breath, a deep one. Ironic it was that he was doing music now when he was the one criticising you in the past for wanting to pursue it. Who even was this person? With a new appearance came a new personality, he was much further away than you thought despite the physical distance.

"You've changed," you didn't know what prompted you to say that, maybe it was the disbelief or the denial that he was someone new, but whatever it was, neither of you could deny the fact that he did change. "I'm scared of the person you've become,"

A beat passed, an unreadable expression on Sunghoon's face that you couldn't distinguish even though by now you thought you'd know every one of them.

"And I'm scared you're still the same."

Seeing Sunghoon that night seemed to have altered something in your life. Somehow, he was everywhere you went.

Who was working at the register? Sunghoon. Who was at the park? Sunghoon. Who was at the party Yunjin managed to drag you to? Sunghoon.

It was haunting.

All those little encounters didn't mean you talked to him like normal, though. The awkward tension in the air still remained, seeing each other only reminded you and him both of your pasts, and you hated it. That explained why you were having a hard time seeing him at another party you were at.

Yunjin was much more of a party goer than you expected, and she successfully convinced you to go to all of them. It was fun until you got drunk and started being emotional. Your efforts of hiding from Sunghoon that night failed when he barged into the empty room you were sobbing in, whether it was accidental or not, you didn't know, you wished to not know.

"Y/N?"

His voice brought back the times he called your name. Both the good and bad ones. You stared up at him from the ground, tears welling your eyes. The person you were looking at was someone you thought was a soulmate, but now stood as someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

"W–what are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

The alcohol messing with your brain was processing his words, but what came out from your lips was the total opposite of an answer. "I'm sorry, Hoonie,"

Sunghoon's eyes widened at the nickname, the privilege that only you had. He kneeled down, taking a seat on the ground opposite you, a visible distance in between.

"I hate this—us—I feel like if we gave it one night, to talk, to just feel—you'd hate me less and make it alright," you choked back the sobs building up in your throat, the dizziness making you unaware of how Sunghoon reached out only to hesitate and pressed his hand back to his side. "Just wish that we could fight now, I'd hold you on the comedown …" your voice faltered, head leaning onto the wall.

"Y/N, you're drunk, we can talk this out another day," Sunghoon striped off his jacket and covered your exposed thighs with it. "Just … don't avoid me. I–I don't hate you, I just hope we can have a decent conversation without thinking about the past,"

He admitted it, how the two of you had secretly been thinking about the past, letting it be a big wall in between instead of growing from it. Yet, you could tell the unspoken anger and sadness still lingered, choosing to pour out gradually and unknowingly.

"Bet you wish you never even met me," you started slurring, hand gripping onto his jacket tightly. "I can't blame you, I broke your every heartbeat," your eyes were shut, images playing in your mind, not knowing the saddened look dawning on Sunghoon's face.

"Let's get you back."

In your sleep that night, you saw him. He was there, so far yet so close, and just like reality, he was hard to reach, harder to understand compared to before. He was a knife cutting deep, leaving a mark that constantly reminded you of the past.

How could you even make everything go back to the way it was?

Sunghoon was on your front door step the night everyone was out for dinner except you.

You hadn't expected him to turn up, thinking it'd be you that stood at his doorstep instead as you still had his jacket from that party (which you do not want to think about again).

"Sunghoon. Hey," the door was opened and you leaned against it, trying your best at hiding the hint of pining in your gaze.

"Oh, hey," he greeted back rather stiffly, dressed in a simple attire with the classic white Lacoste sneakers that he always wore. "I–I wanted to—"

"Take your … jacket?" You cut him off half way, nerves wrecking your brain.

A beat passed, Sunghoom visibly gulped. "Y–Yeah, my jacket,"

"I'll go grab it for you," you jerked your thumb over your shoulder, awkwardly scurrying back in to retrieve his jacket and coming back to see him chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly nervous. "Here. Thanks for it,"

"No problem," Sunghoon coughed, grabbing the jacket but absolutely paying no mind to it. His stare was straight at you.

"That's all, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," you echoed, hating the sudden rigidness between the two of you. "Bye then, Sunghoon,"

"Bye," Sunghoon said, looking dazed. Weird.

You saw him backing away and decided to close the door, but before you could even do so, a force had stopped you from closing it. Not a force, much rather a hand, his hand. The door was pushed open, and you physically jumped at the suddenness of it. Your eyes met Sunghoon's sorrowful ones.

"Don't push me away, Y/N, not again,"

"Sunghoon,"

He made his way in, closing the door behind him and you let him. Was this seriously happening?

"You said you wanted to give us one night to talk, so I'm here now. I didn't care about the jacket, I cared about you. I hate seeing us like this, it's like we're strangers," Sunghoon let out a frustrated huff, eyebrows furrowed.

"We can't just pretend nothing has happened between us,"

"So you want me to hate you instead? You're saying as if it's easy, Y/N, feelings don't work that way!"

"Then how do we go back to how it was? We can't, that's the truth. You're not the same person I used to know,"

"Cut the bullshit. I'm the same as I was, maybe just a little different than I was years ago, but that doesn't change anything. When does that ever stop you from loving?"

Were you too scared to love?

Sunghoon ran his hand across his face, wetting his lips. "You’re scared of change, and I don’t think that’s something new about you,”

Ouch.

“But I really wish you could let it all go. I don’t hate you, nor do I harbour any anger regarding the things that happened years ago. It hurts, it did, but seeing you now made me feel the opposite of all those emotions,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, and you were holding yours. “I think about you a lot, actually. I regretted a lot of the things I said and done, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you and giving you the support you needed. I should've fought for us and not leave, I–I—" Sunghoon choked, unable to hold in his overpowering emotions anymore.

You didn’t say anything, instinctively closing in and pulling him into your arms, letting his head lie on your shoulder, ignoring the feeling of his warm tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. "I'm sorry too, for leaving you so easily,"

You stood there with Sunghoon in your arms, inevitably crying along and sobbing out your own apologies, the ones you had owed him and hidden all these years. He held you tight just as you did, and it felt like the nights he had you in his arms whenever you cried. You eventually calmed down whereas Sunghoon was still composing himself, avoiding your gaze.

You took the opportunity to hug him again, tighter and firmer this time, as if trying to stop him from running away.

"Can we start over? I don't want us to be strangers,"

You heard a sniffle, then a shaky breath of relief. "I'd love to,"

Pulling away, you locked eyes with him. They were twinkling brighter than the stars in the skies outside, filled with a spark of hope. "I'll make us some hot tea. Do you want to … stay over?"

"Can I?"

"I really want you to."

It didn't take more to convince Sunghoon to stay, all you had to do was ask and he'd listen.

That night, you and him hid in your room, talking for the whole night until the break of dawn. Nothing about the way he talked had changed, nor his laughter or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He told you about the band and some side gigs, offering to bring you to some too.

You laid there in bed laughing all night, occasionally peeking over the side of your bed to check up on him who slept on the extra mattress, only to meet his eyes and freeze.

The red string of fate tying you and him together was beginning to reform.

Not feeling dread every time you saw Sunghoon was a new start for you. In fact, you were glad to see him.

The misunderstandings and complexity built up over the years were finally addressed, leaving you to peace and a small hope of rebuilding what you had with him. But you kept that thought away for now, holding onto the pieces you had at the moment.

"Come to one of my gigs," Sunghoon made a trip to your house on a random afternoon, a box of your favourite chocolate covered strawberries in his hand. He never forgot anything about you, didn't he?

"Are you bribing me or asking me?" You said despite accepting the box, your heart squeezing at the thought of him remembering the littlest details about you.

"I'm asking you but also offering a gift," he let himself in, almost like always, and you didn't even notice, just letting him do so. "I saw it and I thought of you so I got it,"

"Thanks," you waved the box a little, setting it down on the table and leaning slightly against it. "You still remember,"

His gaze softened. "Of course I do," his hand by his side was itching to reach out, but it never did, instead, he played it off by giving you a smile. "So, what do you say? This Saturday, watch our gig at the pub,"

"Are you singing?"

"I wish I did," he laughed, and you momentarily recalled the times you had karaoke sessions with him. Curse reminiscence. "I play the bass, Heeseung's the front man,"

You nodded slowly, picturing them as a band and smiling slowly. You've missed them, and it was then when you realised it. "I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Obviously, do you want me to say no?"

"Well, no," Sunghoon chuckled, quite literally unable to hide his excitement from the way he's grinning widely. "I'm just … glad, and surprised, and happy,"

You bit back a smile, shaking your head at him. "Text me the details, will you? I don't want to miss it."

Saturday rolled around quickly. You and Yunjin were sitting in a corner of the pub, beers on the table and whispering gossip about some of your high school classmates. High school might've ended years ago but gossip never stopped.

"Alright, folks, the next act is someone you already know, they are not strangers," the manager of the pub stepped onto the small stage, announcing Sunghoon and the guy's band. "Please welcome … April Nights!"

April?

You bit your tongue, an odd feeling boiling in your stomach. April was the month you broke up with Sunghoon and left for university, it was more than just a coincidence for him and his band to have 'April' in their name. All you knew was the sinking feeling never went away.

"You alright?" Yunjin noticed your silence, casting a worried glance at you.

"April …" you mumbled, eyes staring straight ahead at Sunghoon who was setting up his bass on stage. "There must be something behind it,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

You shook away that feeling currently eating up and put your focus on Sunghoon instead. It wasn't your first time watching him perform. It has always been him on ice in a big arena, but now it was him on a small stage at a dingy pub.

Sunghoon's eyes wandered all over the room, finally landing on you, a smile spreading on his pretty face. You managed a small smile, waving a little to let him know you're there, you're actually there and not a figment of his imagination, a dream that he has been wishing on for far too long.

The first song they played was an ABBA song. To be specific, it was your favourite ABBA song that you would listen to with Sunghoon in the past. Was it a coincidence?

You knew Heeseung had a vocal of stars, but to hear it for the first time in years was sending you into heaven. However, you failed to keep your focus on him, redirecting it to the bassist. You couldn't stop looking at Sunghoon, and his gaze wouldn't leave yours either.

The second song soon came by, and at that point onwards, you knew it wasn't a coincidence. It only took two songs for you to realise that Sunghoon had prepared a set list of your favourite songs. The band was currently playing Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, a song you had loved ever since forever.

You shouldn't be feeling light headed, but you were.

The set ended almost a few hours later. It was filled with your favourite songs, undoubtedly. The whole time, you were truly holding your breath, especially when Sunghoon was holding your gaze.

While people were filing in and out of the pub gradually, you stayed. It was well past midnight and Yunjin's cheeks were pink from the alcohol, wandering off to join Heeseung and the others. You, on the other hand, were sober as hell, waiting for Sunghoon with nerve wrecking anticipation.

"Hey, hey, hey. How did we do?" Sunghoon slid into a seat like an apparition appearing out of thin air. You jumped a little, but melted into a smile at the sight of him.

"You guys were great," it was genuine, because they did do amazing, probably more than just amazing. "'April nights', an interesting name,"

Realisation dawned on Sunghoon's face, he swallowed thickly. "I—yeah. April was an interesting month,"

"The set list …"

"Right, the set list," he chuckled, shifting on his feet a little nervously and stiffly. "I figured since you're here I'll play some of your favourite songs,"

"Oh," you let out softly, not knowing what else to say, this was something you found yourself acting around Sunghoon now. "That's … nice,"

Sunghoon gouged your expressions and the tone of your voice, a slow frown etching onto his tired face. "Did you not … like it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" you paused, thinking of an appropriate word to describe how you felt. Frankly, you didn't know your exact feelings. "—surprised and … confused?"

"Confused?"

"Sunghoon, we're exes, and you pulling this isn't exactly helping—this—" you gestured to the space between you and him. "Us,"

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, occasionally opening his mouth to say something just to close it before he could. "I—maybe I read it all wrong, I thought—you know what, forget it,"

"Don't. Just tell me," you reached over for him, but didn't touch his hand. "What are we? We're not exactly best friends nor are we enemies. I don't want any tension between us and I don't want you to think you have zero chance at all," you breathed, searching for his eyes. "I would want us to work out again, if that's what you want too,"

Sunghoon's eyes glistened with a spark of hope, relief washing over his face. It was an answer to his question. "I want us to work out. I want us to have another chance," his hand reached out for yours the first time since you've seen each other, feeling the warmth of his touch that you were no stranger to. He carefully and gently intertwined his hand with yours.

"We'll always find our way back to each other."

It was odd but comforting to know that nothing has changed when it came to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon brought you to your favourite places, ate your favourite dishes, did your favourite activities as an attempt to rekindle everything back. Safe to say it was working.

Just like the first dates you had together, you felt yourself having the same bubbly feeling internally, the same giggles you caught yourself having after a stupid joke he made. Despite all that, over the course of a few weeks, it had you wondering about your relationship with him.

"Will you date him again?" Yunjin could tell you were struggling, even if you didn't say it, it was still quite evident.

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Well, considering he has taken you out on so many dates and still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend again, I could tell you're troubled,"

"Okay, mind reader," you grumbled and shifted in your seat, hating how right she was. "He said he wanted to give us a chance again, so I was expecting that—you know—we'd get back together soon,"

"Your 'soon' seems a bit urgent, but I don't blame you," Yunjin shrugged, gaze softening at your words. "I can tell how much love there still is between the two of you. It's natural to gravitate towards each other, but time, time is what you need to heal the scars, Y/N. It's been years, give yourself time."

You suppose giving yourself time truly was what you needed. But when you mentally said you needed space, you didn't mean wanting Sunghoon to ignore you.

That's right. He was ignoring you.

How did you know? Apparently, the hard way.

Calls, messages were all brushed aside. You didn't even see him physically. At one point, you considered him dead, but seeing him at a party proved to you that he wasn't.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Cornering him was a challenge, but being headstrong and slightly buzzed, nothing could possibly stop you.

"Y/N?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name," you seethed, almost stumbling forward and throwing a punch at him. "So, we're playing the game where you get back at me and ghost me after all that we've been through lately? Sweet! Could've given me a head's up though,"

"What? You're the one who's planning to abandon me just like before!"

"What are you even saying?"

"Your email, Y/N. I saw your email. How you have a big job in London and you just can't wait to join, throwing me away like a summer's fling right before you leave,"

"You're not making any sense, I'm not accepting that role!" You were heaving at anger at this point, matching the fumes emitting from Sunghoon's ears. "You dickhead! I'm literally throwing my dreams away and you're here thinking I'm leaving you again? Is that what you thought of first? Oh, maybe you could've just asked me, but you didn't, just like the past,"

Bringing up the past had triggered something not only in you but him. He blinked, keeping silent but chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

"You never changed, huh?"

You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head a little, not to answer his question, but at him.

"Well I guess that makes the both of us."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?"

The night after the confrontation, you woke up on Yunjin's couch with a hangover thanks to your habit of drinking your problems away. Remembering Sunghoon's face and the feelings you felt literally had you shrivelling back into the couch, a deep frown etched on your face.

"Partly, yes, but mostly, no," you felt the couch dip beneath Yunjin's weight as she joined your side, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. "He fucked up first, but I think it's all just a big misunderstanding,"

"I don't we've healed from it," you took the cup from her and drank from it. "He's scared of me leaving and I was considering leaving again. Maybe we're just not meant to be,"

Yunjin sighed, moving her body closer to you and placing a comforting hand on yours. "If you're not leaving, that means you're staying, which also means you get to make it right. You get to have time to mend it all unlike the last time,"

"I have to make it right, don't I?"

A nod of confirmation from Yunjin was all you needed to know your next step. So, you decided to show up at his gig in the same exact pub without thinking through it twice.

"He's not here tonight," Heeseung looked thoroughly puzzled by your sudden appearance, and it seemed none of them knew about the small altercation you had with Sunghoon.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been acting a bit … off. We asked him to take a night off, maybe you should give him a call."

If only it was that easy.

Walking back home with a dejected heart was not the plan you had in mind. A part of you even thought this was truly the end, maybe he reached the conclusion of going no contact and you have no choice but to accept it. Was this karma?

It didn't help that you walked past the park that you and Sunghoon used to run off to back in the past. The exact bench which you and him sat on still resided there. Your curious mind led your legs towards it, taking a seat and remembering all the memories you shared with him.

Being alone under the night sky and getting accompanied by the dim light coming from the street lamp had given you a chance to rethink your choices about coming back home, whether it was worth it to see Sunghoon once again and try for the closure you never got. Well, look where it got you now.

The ruffles of the leaves got you snapping your head towards the direction of the noise, but it only landed on a figure.

"Y/N?"

You squinted, waiting until the figure walked under the streetlamp to distinguish that it was … Sunghoon. You should be feeling glad now that he was there in front you, but why were you feeling the exact opposite?

"Sunghoon? W–what are you doing here?" You stood up, watching him getting closer, the anguish in his face was clear.

"I–I … I went to look for you," he started, carefully and slowly inching closer until there's a comfortable distance between you both. "You weren't home and I thought … that was it,"

That was a fatal flaw you and him shared, wasn't it?

"I went to the pub to look for you too," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, breathing becoming ragged. "And you weren't there, so I thought … I thought it was the end too,"

"Fuck's sake, I know I said this many times but I'm sorry, Y/N," he sounded desperate, apologetic and almost exasperated. "I'm sorry for assuming things and ignoring you, I guess I never really got rid of the avoiding thing. I'm just … scared of you leaving me and I can't accept it again,"

"I'm not leaving, Hoonie," you were the first to reach out, to touch him and pull him into your embrace. "I didn't think you'd see that email so I never said anything about it. But I'm not leaving, okay? Not this time, never again. I'm here and I'm staying,"

You heard Sunghoon's quiet breathing next to your ear, his calming heartbeat thrumming against your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I really am, Y/N. I said I wanted to make this right but why does it feel like I'm fucking it all up?"

"You're not, Hoon, trust me. If I have to be honest here, both of us have past scars that aren't healed yet. It takes time, one step at a time, and that was what I learned. I think we're not fully healed from the past," you held onto him tighter, spilling all your hidden truths. "We can make it right, but first, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive each other and move on,"

Sunghoon pulled away a little, but his arms still remained around you. It was the first time you were ever so close to him since the split, wholly vulnerable and showing him your truest emotions.

"I forgive you," he whispered, pearly tears threatening to spill from the edge of his eyes. "And I'm sorry again,"

"I forgive you too," your grip on his jacket tightened, a small comforting smile appearing on your lips, one that Sunghoon reciprocated.

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he confessed, a little out of the blue, but it was something he needed to get out of his system before he burst. "Those years when you were away, I see you in everyone else, I don't think anyone could ever compare. I still love you even after this long,"

Your mind was in a haze upon hearing his confession, sincerity and longing hidden in his words but evident in his eyed. For a moment, you thought of what you could say, but nothing came to mind, so you did the first thing your body told you to. You kissed him. Actually, it was more of a peck, a simple quick peck that was enough to shock both him and you.

"I'm sorry!" You saw his wide eyes and wondered if it was a good time to have even done that.

Sunghoon melted into an expression of adoration, a wide smile etched on his lips, as if in both disbelief and relief that you kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he stepped closer, only an inch measured the distance between you and him. The space became smaller when he leaned down, eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can I?"

Was this happening? "Yeah,"

Sunghoon didn't waste any moment in meeting your lips with his. It was natural, easy, for you to kiss him just like first instinct. The amount of desperation, sadness, anger and love were poured into the way he kissed you. There wasn't any urgency, but it spoke louder than intended.

It was short, but it was enough to let the both you know the true feelings you harboured for each other. By the time you pulled away from him, you felt his eyes on you, a giggle erupted from you unexpectedly, and he started joining in.

You really looked like a lovesick fool standing under the streetlamp with your lover.

"Do you want to stop by that old spot we used to go to?" Sunghoon suggested, a little shyly this time.

"The one nearby?"

"That one,"

"Let's go then." you nodded, casting him a soft smile.

Sunghoon didn't say much, but his hand did the talking by reaching for yours. He held onto it tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your interlocked hands as you walked. He might've not said much, but you could tell how he felt.

Feelings might be complicated, and making amends with the history behind a broken relationship was equally challenging, but what mattered most was getting back with the one who you called your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

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reiincarnatiion · 1 year

Text

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one

summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.

🧚‍♀️

a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee

but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗

just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.

You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.

"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.

"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.

You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.

Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.

"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.

Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.

The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.

But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.

"You look more miserable than me,"

You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.

"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.

"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.

Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.

His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.

If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.

As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.

His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.

"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.

Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.

"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.

You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.

There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.

"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.

Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.

You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?

"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.

Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.

If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.

---

Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.

He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.

He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.

For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-

"-So what do you think Azriel?"

Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.

Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.

"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."

He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.

Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.

Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.

---

read [ part two ] here deariess <3

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 5 months

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Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: DARK ROMANCE

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: This is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

You walked into the living room, relieved to be out of that uncomfortable outfit. The shower helped you relax, but you were still uneasy about the situation. Chan smiled at you from the couch, gesturing for you to join him. "Come, Princess."

You snuggle into his warm embrace, nestling your head on his chest. His strong yet gentle arms wrap around you, making you feel safe and cared for. As you listen to the steady beating of his heart, he leans down and places a tender kiss on the top of your head.

"I uh want to talk to you about something," he said, adjusting his body and causing you to sit up straight.

"Sure, what about?" You say, getting comfortable on the couch, turning to face him and crossing your legs.

"Last night….I ah," he was really struggling to get the words out. You grab his hands in yours, hoping it will help him get them out, lightly stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

He takes a deep breath before saying, "I heard you crying. . . because of me." You smile lightly but think to yourself that's only half true. Chan had yelled, and that's what started the tears at first. But really, you were mostly mad at yourself.

You take a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault. I was disappointed in myself for not being honest." Your gaze falls to the ground as you speak. You never wanted Chan to feel guilty for expressing his feelings.

Chan looks at you with soft eyes. "All I want is for you to trust me. That's been my goal this whole time." He gently lifts your chin up so you're looking at him. You notice his gaze drift down to your lips briefly before returning to your eyes.

You looked at him, unsure of what to say. "I don't know why I didn't tell you earlier."

He softly caressed your lips with his thumb and whispered, "It's okay. I just want you to know I'm sorry."

Leaning in, placing his lips on yours, time seems to stand still. Chan's soft lips press against yours, consumed by the intoxicating feeling of his hands caressing your hips. His tender kiss leaves you breathless.

Your eyes remain shut as he pulls away, giggling cutely as he realises you are chasing his kiss.

……

"I have to go", you said, trying to grab your bag from Chan's hands.

In an effort to keep you there longer, he pulls it away from you playfully as you attempt to grab it. "Chan," you say, pouting as he laughs, "I really have to go. I have to pack. The movers are coming next week."

"Oh, that reminds me." He placed your bag and did a light jog to the main bedroom.

"This is not how I wanted this weekend to go….but I was supposed to give you this last night." He came down the hallway with a jewellery box, running his fingers through his hair.

"Open it", he smiled as he handed it to you. You snap open the box, and inside is a key. Your head shoots up to look at Chan as you blush. "It's the house key….I wanted to give this to you last night at dinner, but….we got rudely interrupted."

He was right. This weekend did not go according to plan at all. The fact that you may not see each other for a couple weeks while Chan goes to Japan for his dome tour, resulting in you having to pack up your apartment alone, makes you sad. You thought this weekend was going to be some sort of sex-filled dream. However, that did not end up happening for obvious reasons. "I may not see you for two weeks", you pout as you suddenly become in no rush to leave.

"Mmm," he hummed as he pulled you closer to his body. "See, you should stay," he smiled as his nose brushed your cheek, giving you goosebumps. "I have a lot of other things I was planning this weekend that we didn't get to do." He placed a light kiss just below your earlobe.

"We can't. You have a flight at 6 am tomorrow….and I have the movers coming at 9," you said, placing my hand on his chest, trying to put some space between the both of you.

"But 2 weeks without you may just kill me." There he goes again, being all sweet.

"But when you return, I'll be fully moved in." You smile, kissing his lips with a light peck.

He glides his hand down your back, realising you're not wearing a bra. He pulls you in closer, lightly brushing his thumb over your nipple, instantly making it hard.

"When I come back, I want to take you out on a real date," he said out of breath.

"I'd love that" you smiled, gripping your bag and stepping out of his reach, his hands falling to his sides. "Bye, Channie," you say sweetly.

…..

Monday

M🥰

"About to leave for the plane… I'll text you when I land."

You send him a picture of the live YouTube video you are watching of the airport.

M🥰

“Are you watching me 😳…..are you sure you are not a stalker 😉”

Y/n

"Fine, I'll turn it off."

M🥰

"No, I find it adorable."

Y/n

"Safe flight, sir."

M🥰

"I'll call you tonight."

It was only a short time before the YouTube live you had streaming on the TV went active, showing the guys rocking up to the airport.

The camera zoomed in on Chan, making a heart shape with his hands. "Dork", you laughed, shaking your head.

As they walked through the airport, you couldn't help but be nervous for them as people started swarming around them to get any sort of photos or even a quick touch from them.

Your heart beats so fast in your chest as one of the members falls; you can visibly see the frustration in Chan's face as he struggles to keep himself calm. Eventually, they push through the crowd and head to security clearance.

Y/n

"Omg….are you all okay?"

M🥰

"I'm fine"

Y/n

"Is it always that hectic?"

M🥰

"Yes"

His short answer makes you believe he is indeed angry. You decided to call him.

"Hello," he must be in professional mode.

"I know you said you're fine….but you're texting like you're angry." You just came out with it.

"Guys, I just have to take this. I'll be back…order me something," he excused himself from the group.

"Did you see the way they just swarmed us?" He snapped. "They could have hurt Ji", he growled.

"It's okay…just breathe." You could hear him take a deep breath in.

"Thank you," he said, breathing out.

"Okay, good….now have a safe flight," you said, about to hang up.

"Wait…" He said quickly. "Did you see my heart? I did it for you?" Even through the phone, you could see him blushing.

"Mmmmm….I did…. You're a dork," you laughed. "I better let you go. Text me when you land", you smile.

"What… you're not going to watch YouTube live", he chuckled.

"I ah…think I'll give it a miss….it made me nervous," you said

"Cute, you worried about me." You could tell by how he said that sentence that he was grinning.

"Bye, Channie," you said before hanging up.

But you couldn't help yourself; when the video of the boys arrived in Japan, you ran to the TV; this time, it was a much calmer arrival.

They looked so happy and excited to be there. Chan even smiled and waved at the camera, almost like he knew you were watching. Chan pulls out his phone as they walk outside and into the car.

M🥰

"I made it, princess….in the car on the way to the hotel."

Before you could reply, your doorbell went off. "Coming," you said, running to the door.

……..

You had been so busy moving that a week and a half had gone by in no time, and it was finally time to move your stuff into channies officially. Well, the things you took with you.

When you arrive at his house, Chan calls you to meet the small moving van you hired.

"Hello," you say sweetly.

"How's the moving going?" You know he is watching you on the camera. He has them everywhere.

"Are you watching me?" You laughed.

"I'm always watching you… it's my favourite pastime."

"That's creepy, Chan," you say as he laughs. "But while I have you…where would you like the couch you requested me to bring?"

"In the living room," he laughed.

"Chan, don't we should just get a new couch? Mine is so old."

"I love that couch..."

"It's ugly," you say, rolling your eyes.

"It's not ugly… it's perfect."

"Whatever?" you mumble. "I have to go….. they're here."

"Okay, I'll see you in a couple of days", he said before he hung up.

CHAN POV

Ting Ting

I open my eyes to check my phone. "Fuuuckkk", I growl as tears begin to form in my eyes from the light's rays.

"Unknown number", I whisper to myself. I don't want to wake Minho up from his sleep.

Unknown number

"Don't worry, buddy…. I've been looking after her."

My heart races as I re-read the message, desperately hoping it wasn't meant for me. As I clumsily grab my phone, almost hitting myself in the process, I frantically open the camera app with shaking hands. Scrolling through the outdoor security feeds, my blood runs cold when I don't see her bedroom light on. Dear God, where could she have gone? The house sits empty as I plead for her to be safe inside. I feel a sense of dread wash over me - where is she? Please let her be here.

I flick the camera into the master suite, and my panic subsides. "Oh, thank God," I breathe. She's curled up all cozy under my silk sheets. I watched her breathing so calmly and peacefully for a few minutes. Her chest rose and fell with such grace; she was simply stunning with her lips pressed together in the cutest sleepy pout. If I were there right now, I would not be able to control myself from planting the biggest kiss on those beautiful lips. My body gets all tingly just thinking about it, and I can't help but push those thoughts aside for now. The worst part about sharing rooms on tour is honestly not being able to care for myself whenever the urge hits. But now that I know she's safe and sound asleep, I continue to check the house for signs that she is alone. I don't care if I have to watch these cameras night and day; I will not let anyone touch her.

………

Morning finally arrives, and I open my eyes to find that Y/N has left our bed. This is the first time I've even had a thought like that about a woman… "Ours," I say softly, still staring at my phone screen. It's such a strange concept to me. The thought of sharing with a person makes me so happy. I look over at Minho, who is still asleep. Thank God…the last thing I need is for him to wake up and find me staring at my security cameras like a possessive monster.

But that's what I am, a man obsessed with her, and after last night's text message, I need to hear her voice. Seeing her on my house camera is not enough.

I step into the hallway as the phone rings. Minho is still sleeping but shouldn't hear me if I keep my voice low.

"Hey you", her sweet voice was like music to my ears.

"Hey," I say back, and my nervousness vanishes.

"What's up?….why are you calling so early?" I can hear her talking with her mouth full.

"Is now a good time to talk?" I say, and I'm hoping she agrees to continue this conversation because now that I have her, I don't want to let her go.

"Sorry…. I'm just eating breakfast….is everything okay?" I can see her now in my kitchen, eating toast and frowning.

"Yeah…..I just ah," fuck how do I say this without seeming like an utterly love-sick puppy? "I ah", I keep choking on my words. Why can't I just say it?

"I miss you too, Channie." I can hear her giggling on the other end, and it makes me smile to know she misses me just as much.

"That obvious, huh?" I look at the floor as I kick my foot out.

"That, and I figured you'd call me after I heard you snoring through the camera system this morning" My eyes widened…..could she really hear me snoring FUCK.

"I ah….I can explain," I panic, fuck, who am I going to explain this without her thinking I'm an absolute creep.

"I'm just joking, sir….When I woke up this morning, I saw the red light and figured you were just checking in." The strain in my chest subsides as I relax my muscles.

"I hope it's okay that I slept in your bed last night." I want to correct her and say our bed inside. I chuckle.

"Of course….keep it warm for me." I smile and hear what sounds like Minho walking towards the door.

"I have to go, but I'll call you later, okay?" I hang up the phone before she can answer me, and just in time as well….because as I place my hand on the door handle and open it, Minho practically falls out.

"Spying on me…are we?" I laugh as Minho groans on the floor.

"Who are you even talking to this early?" He squints his eyes as he looks up from the ground.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I say, stepping over him and back into the room.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Minho gets up off the floor as I charge my phone.

"I'm going to take a shower", I say, grabbing my towel and heading into the bathroom.

"Oh, and Minho," I say, peeking my head out and catching him red-handed, looking at my phone.

"No peeking, yeah", I laugh as I turn back into the bathroom; he could try to get into my phone; however, I changed the code as soon as Y/N and I got together.

……..

For the first time, I think I actually miss someone. All the boys have gone out to eat and walk around Tokyo sitting, and I can't help but lay here in my shared hotel room and watch CCTV footage of y/n in my house.

I wish I was there to help her; it's not like I can go home early, either. We have our show tonight. However, after our last show in Tokyo, the boys decided to stay for a couple of days. Still, I was reluctant to because everything I needed was at home.

I've been sitting on the Korean Air website, deciding if a 6am flight back home is going to piss the boys off or not. They would be supportive if they knew why, but it's too early to let them know I'm seeing y/n. Especially when they only know her as a JYPE staff member.

"What are you doing?" Minho said, coming out of the bathroom.

"Do you think the guys would be offended if I left tomorrow?" A question I only trust Minho to answer.

"Want to get home that fast?"

"I just have so much I need to do….I just really don't have time for a holiday right now." A few days off with the boys would be fun; a few days off with y/n is my priority. After we had that huge fight before I left, I felt I needed to make it up to her.

"I think they won't mind", he said, drying his hair with the towel.

"Okay, I'll book this ticket then," I said, moving my hand to click the checkout button.

Minho smiles. I know he's onto me, but he will never immediately ask me. That's not what Minho does.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a girl, would it?" He grins.

"No, Minho", I say, pretending to be annoyed and rolling my eyes.

"Because we will support you 100% if it is?"

"I know…but it's not." I smile, knowing it has everything to do with a girl.

Master list: @bellamuerte1987 @nightrayseishina @9900z @armystay89 @dreamstarsandskz @fosfopirite @neyangi @princesspanda16 @krishastumblernow @agnes-king @bangtanmix73 @khemrose @fawnpeaks @missrobyn81 @dreambelieveinme @umbreonwolfy @jisungiexx @scarletrosesposts @choisoorin @izzathequeen @binnies-minsung-fanclub @jetblackbelle @bunnyxoxodarling @berryberrytan @sky-outta @zerefdragn33l @shiningnono @tinys0ftie @zinnichong @tuggybug @nokacchan @amaranth-writing @seungbinis @jisunglover3409 @kimseungminsprincess @goblin-waifu @skzswife @uwuitsjungwoo @marrivmel

#skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #straykids #straykids imagines #bangchan #skz fic #bangchansmut #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #skz bangchan #bang chan #bangchan master #bang chan smut #stray kids

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milkyruins · 2 months

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## han jisung x reader, APRON AND SWEATS

god, i think it's been at least a year or so since i've last posted. well, hi! i'm still in love with hanji!

summary: jisung asks to marry you but you're quite literally in an apron and sweats.

genre: fluff

content warnings: cursing (affectionately), joking mentions of attacking someone with pepper and evicting them

wc: ~0.4k

“that’s it, i’m going to marry you.“

you were mid-sauteeing up leftovers, but now your spatula remains frozen against the pan. “what?”

“what?” han does his signature frown/pout back at you– like he has a right to look upset that you didn’t comprehend his out-of-left-field proposal.

“well, if you say outrageous shit like that to me, you know i’m going to do a double take.”

he huffs, cheeks inflating in disdain. “it’s not outrageous for me to want to marry the love of my life, though.”

you snort at his dramatics, reaching for the pepper grinder. “but right this instant? why?”

“because you're hot as fu-”

“can it before i douse you with pepper and kick you out.”

he giggles. “i’m joking, i’m joking.” a beat passes, the sound of the range hood’s fan consuming your kitchen.

“there’s actually no real good reason. i just… this right here feels right. like something i want to do for the rest of my life.” he takes a breath, letting his eyelids flutter shut. a contented grin tugs at his lips. “half-assed leftovers dinners with you. aimless ‘how was your day’s and easy banter sessions. putting on whatever’s good to end the night, which inevitably ends up being love island because for some unknown reason you’re absolutely obsessed. plus, you look so goddamn beautiful and all you’re doing is doing menial labor in that ratty old apron.”

he opened his eyes again, finding his way to yours. and in his glance, you knew. there was a promise in his stare that left you speechless. at this point, the stir-fry could be charred to smithereens and you wouldn’t have noticed.

you somehow mustered the willpower to close your slackened jaw and respond. “c’mere for a second, sungie?”

your clueless boyfriend waddled his way over to you. you reached for the nearest drawer, rummaged around, and– ah. found it.

“i hereby declare that i, your loving partner, love you very, very much and want to be yours for the rest of eternity. will you marry me, han jisung?” you slip the keyring of the measuring spoon kit around his ring finger, melting at his utterly stupefied expression.

“you’re being for real?”

you pause. “well, let me get a redo once i properly invest in a ring. but… we’ll marry sometime in the future. i mean, after saying i look like a smoking hot bombshell in my apron and sweats, you’re literally never getting rid of me.”

jisung’s eyes started to crinkle and the largest smile known to humankind erupted across his lips. “so where’s the prenup?”

you grin, pointing towards the turnip sitting pretty on the counter, and he loses it. ♡

#kflixnet #! 💬. ⋆｡𖦹 °✩ minis #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #han x reader #han jisung x reader #han imagines #han jisung images #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #literally a hanner of 5 years i'm head over heels for him

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ihrthoney · 4 months

Text

love isn’t enough

pairing: club owner ran haitani x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort

word count: 1.5k

an: first post being back on tumblr! this is a remake of my old work from my old blog!

Ignorance truly is bliss…

but only if you’re stupid.

It was obvious, the signs were as clear as day. Although, love was always so blinding. While you were watching the clouds and enjoying the summer breeze, his eyes followed the birds flying in the other direction.

There weren’t any lipstick stains on his clothes nor did he stay out later than normal. If there was a faint scent of perfume following him as he walked towards the shower, you brushed it off. Clubs are always full of people, some scents are just stronger than most.

That’s what you would've continued telling yourself had it not been a smell you learned to get used to. Every night that he came home from work, he smelled vaguely of that same perfume. It could be a regular or a worker who walks past him throughout the night.

You weren’t stupid. As much as you wished you were, you weren’t.

The perfume wasn’t the only thing you caught on to. Unfortunately, it took weeks for the smell to become something you’ve recognized or rather, something you chose to accept.

Just last week, Ran was off and you guys decided to spend the day in bed and binging shows. That night, you surprised Ran by renting a movie he wanted to see for a while but missed because of work. During the most interesting part, he got a call and usually, he ignored the noise but this time he didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and leave the room.

You couldn’t remember the last time a work call lasted two hours. While the contact name on the screen said Rindou, you knew better than to believe it.

He clearly knew how to cover his tracks, his behavior didn’t change, not drastically anyway. His phone didn’t suddenly have a password nor did he try to hide who he was texting. Just like you, he wasn’t an idiot. But as time went on, he must’ve mistook you for one.

You and Ran had been dating since you guys were 18. There’s nothing you don’t know about him, you know him better than yourself sometimes. Any changes in his behavior you notice immediately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

Despite everything pointing to the tragic truth that Ran was having an affair, you were waiting for him to admit it. It felt unfair to break it off and be left uneven while he was already filling the void.

Years of your life had been devoted to him, you supported him with everything you could give. From cleaning his wounds after gang fights to watching his (and his brothers’) club succeed.

Would there have been a hole in his heart if you left? When did he stop loving you? Why couldn’t he have just broken it off?

Endless questions were filling your head. It’s been about 3 months since you noticed the perfume. The denial gets harder to run from, reality starts to slowly consume you.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in it now, so instead of wallowing away in the empty house you got dressed and ventured into town.

Of course, it didn’t help in the slightest; everything reminded you of Ran, and the realization that your relationship was coming to an end hurt so much. You walk the streets alone and are reminded of the night of your first date. Hands intertwined, leaning on his shoulder and laughing about something you could no longer remember, you stared at him like he just offered you the world.

“You’re nothing like they say Ran Haitani.” You laughed, you guys are hand in hand, your apartment just a few blocks down.

“What? Am I even more handsome in person?” He says smugly, only half joking.

At that comment, you drop his hand, “Never mind, you’re exactly as they said.” you jokingly say.

“Nah, I’m even better.” Ran remarks. Using your linked hands, he pulls you both to a stop.

He looks at you for a little bit, the sound of cars faint in the background, and the moonlight softly reflects on his face, “You are so beautiful.”

His voice was so soft, so gentle. As flustered as you were at the compliment, you couldn’t pull your eyes from his.

“I had a really good time with you tonight, yn.” His hand parts from yours and softly cradles your face.

“May I?” At that moment, you would’ve given him anything he could’ve possibly wanted.

You nod in response and he wastes no time in connecting your lips.

You were so caught up in the memory that you didn’t see the person in front of you. The woman slightly stumbles at your shoulders making contact. You open your mouth, apology at the tip of your tongue when you notice a man next to her.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The coffee shop you had entered was nothing but a blur as your vision zones onto the man holding the woman’s waist.

His eyes widen at the sight of you. He was supposed to be at work.

Before an excuse could even form, you turned around and walked straight back home, not daring to look back.

He was having an affair. There wasn’t enough time to analyze the woman he was with, your mind was too busy swallowing the confirmed suspicions.

You knew he was cheating, but a small part of you had foolishly clung to the hope that it was just a misunderstanding. Several emotions coursed through your body at once, millions of thoughts raced through your head. Yet, you couldn’t feel a thing.

So many scenarios played out in your head that you thought you would feel angrier, burn his clothes, and trash the house. But, you couldn’t move a single limb. Instead, you sat quietly on the couch, the apartment dark and even emptier than you left it despite nothing being touched.

There’s a soft click that brings you out of your daze. You hear him take off his shoes and walk towards the living room. With every step, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

The dread makes your stomach sink, suddenly you feel nauseous. You’re scared, you’re so fucking scared, this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Years of your life will be nothing but a memory and he’ll be someone you have to remember longer than you’ve known.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Ran sitting on a chair at the dining table.

Without looking at him, you speak. “You’re a coward.”

There was so much you wanted to say, even more to ask, but the only emotion you could feel was anger.

“I know.” He said it so quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the tension in the air.

You waited to see if he would say more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as if the apartment was absent of any soul.

Swallowing your pride, you spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just break up with me.”

Ran answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“I deserve better than an “I don’t know”, Ran.” You argued, gaze moving from the tv screen.

For the first time in months, you see him. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but rather the shell of him.

Cruelly, he says, “You deserve everything.”

The tears were starting to burn your eyes, he didn’t deserve your tears, “Don’t, Ran.”

“There’s nothing that I could say that’ll make any of this better. I cheated on you.”

The tension in the air snapped, and your tears started to spill over despite fighting to hold them back. You knew; you saw it with your own eyes, but to hear him actually admit it hurt that much more. There’s no coming back from this, the man you love no longer loves you.

“How long?” The eye contact between you two never falters.

“Four months.”

He had been out with another woman for four months. It makes you sick to know he still came back home. You can’t help that sob that chokes out, “Why Ran?”

Ran stands up at the sound of you crying, but you move from the couch and step deeper into the living room.

“I didn’t want to live without you.” He admits.

At this point you’re sobbing, “That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t love you anymore, yn. But I didn’t know how to let you go. You’ve been in my life since we were 18. I doubt we could’ve been friends-” You interrupt him.

“That’s so unfair! You don’t get to make that choice for me! Maybe you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have been able to be friends after everything but cheating was your next option?” He’s silent at that.

The silence doesn’t last long though, “Get out, Ran.”

There’s so much you want to know, though, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more pain.

Without another word, he turns and walks to the door, taking half of your heart with him.

#ᝰ honeywrites #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x yn #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #tokyo revengers angst #angst no comfort

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eveningepiphany · 11 months

Text

pirates gold | H.S series, part two

[part one]

[series masterlist]

summary: challengers are arising as life on the ship continues. not only that, but all kinds of tension is building between you and harry. good and bad... and something that feels forbidden to even entertain in your minds eye.

warnings: swearing, tension, fluff, sexual mentions, talks of violence, harry being so so fine, mentions of kidnapping, one bed trope.

a/n: i cannot believe how long this took me to write, I’m praying I can do part three in half the time. thank you for your patience my loves<3

———

There are plenty of moments you are left wondering how in control of your life you actually are.

If you truly have any power at all— because sometimes it feels like everything is spinning relentlessly out of your grasp.

Well, especially under your current circumstances. Since your last 4 days have been spent as someone else’s prisoner.

Which, you couldn’t have predicted would lead you into the bathroom of your own captor and being left to bathe with his own personal collection of things.

Being in there was a shock enough as it is because… of course you’d noticed how well-groomed he appeared. But to see that he actually had things like soap and hair wash…

Another stereotype you presumed, was that pirates were horrendous when it came to maintaining a sense of personal hygiene. But it was another thing you were evidently incorrect about when it came to Harry. And seemingly the rest of his crew as well.

As you washed off in the shower, scrubbing away the collected dirt, dust and sweat off of your body, you felt almost like a new person.

It felt inexplicably good to use soap again, which is a luxury you took for granted much too often back home. But finally getting rid of all the residue on your skin was an amazing feeling. Including washing away the salt from your ocean dip a few days ago. Which was stuck in the crevices and creases of your skin, like it was slowly dehydrating you from the outside in.

So you took probably longer than you should in his shower… but it didn’t seem as time ticked on that he was in his room or at the bathroom door.

Not even when you eventually stepped out from the water, drying yourself off with a rag-like towel. Looking at yourself in the mirror, taking in your frame, and how the skin under your eyes is a tad less sunken in after a long shower.

Maybe it was from stress, or lack of sleep. But either way, you rubbed your fingers underneath them. Attempting to smooth out the remaining darkness there, as if that would work.

Settling on the fact what was left of them was only temporary, you decide to just get into the clothes Harry had given you. Pretending it doesn’t weird you out as you slide his black shirt over your body.

It was far from tight on you, and the fabric probably could’ve swallowed you up as it clung to you. And as you pulled the soft pants up, they were equally as big.

You gazed in the mirror again, looking at how his clothes fit you. Struggling to envision him in such simplistic clothing.

Suddenly, his body filling out the once baggy pants and shirt is taking up the confines of your mind. They certainly would fit him properly. And likely hug the muscle built on his chest... you have to swat the mental image away, before it conjures into something more.

So immediately, you jump to distract yourself. Eyes roaming around the bathroom until they lock onto the cabinet beneath the bathroom bench.

Your hands don't hesitate, coming to the cupboards to open them, pulling the handles so they unlatch.

It’s sadly sparse inside. Almost entirely empty despite a few miscellaneous items. A hair comb, a dagger sheath and a… sewing kit? You frown at the sewing kit, unable to imagine him doing anything as delicate and time consuming as hand sewing.

However, he does wear intricate outfits. He seemingly prizes them, actually. So, it seems fitting that if wear and tear got to them, he'd be keen to fix them. That's the conclusion you're going to go with anyway.

But regardless, in the small wooden confines, there is nothing you can steal for your own benefit. You think of shutting it, but in the silence something urges you to open the small plastic box anyways.

You drop onto your knees, sliding the container to the edge of the shelving, and hooking your fingers into the latches and pulling the lid upwards.

There are several little threading needles— even clothing pins— placed among regular cotton thread in an array of colours. But there’s also multiple wads of fishing line, which immediately makes you wonder why it's in there. Trying to pinpoint what kind of clothing needs fishing line as a stitching.

You’re about to pull it out, but conveniently, there’s a rattle outside of the door. One that indicates someone is coming into his quarters. You hold back a frustrated sigh, suddenly wishing you had of taken a shorter shower.

Your body kicks into quick movement, hurrying to click his sewing box shut and put it back where it was in the first place. Pushing hard on the latches that now suddenly don’t want to cooperate with your haste.

It’s silent outside of the footsteps that trail to the bathroom door, making you wince as the latch on the cupboard echoes a tiny clack as it’s shut.

The feet stop at the door, and your breath is held from where you’re kneeling. Not sure if you’re hoping for Harry or not.

“Y/N?” His voice calls with a rap on the door, “y’decent?”

“I—“ you slowly rise from the floor, cringing at the creak of the boards beneath your feet as you stand.

“Yea… yep.”

The lock jingles and the door swings open, revealing Harry— who looks no different to how he did almost an hour ago. Black blouse, black pants. Nothing had changed.

You feel suddenly vulnerable standing in his clothes in front of him, and you have to force yourself not to wring your hands at the bottom of his long shirt.

“Mm, nice to see you actually showered, ‘stead of tryin’ to break out.” He comments, nonchalantly stepping in through the door. Eyes scanning you in his clothes.

As he steps closer, the only difference you notice is the red bruising around his knuckles, on the hand hung down by his waist.

“Oh, I tried.” You mused, attempting to push confidence in your tone— adverting your gaze away from his bruised hand.

He hums, still staring at your frame, “To no avail, I see.”

“I suppose not.” You remarked, to which he shrugs. His body language is casual, but you’re still unconvinced that everything is normal.

Now you're staring at him, trying to decipher what the fuck is happening right now. Given the fact nothing about this seems planned.

“But I am confused...” You prompt, and to it, he cocks an eyebrow.

He steps forward, “Go on.”

“What exactly have you done in the last hour?” It comes from your mouth as an accusation. One that draws out a rash laugh from him pink mouth.

“Why is it you assume I’ve done something?” He's awfully close to you now, and it highlights the features on his face. Ones you're desperately trying to pay no attention to. But it's much harder to ignore the fall of his hair over green eyes when its up close.

“Because that just seems the most likely.” You stated. Walking to brush past him—shoulder passing his chest with a light touch— the bathroom feeling far too cramped for the two of you. And the air around you had suddenly gone hot with tension on your end.

You make your way out into his quarters, making use of your need for distance, and deciding to inspect the room while you could.

Harry turns on his heel, watching as you now suddenly walk around his bedroom like it was your birth right. Hands trailing over frames on the wall, and picking up random objects he’d strewn on the floor.

He sighs at this, part of him wanting to stop you from snooping around his place, but he’s also undeniably curious at your mannerisms while looking around. The way your eyebrows pull down into a frown as you pick up an array of things. Including odd ones, like a bag of dried out barnacles, and whetstones block he uses to sharpen his blades with.

“I bought ya up here t’shower. Because unlike many, I have a hygiene standard, darlin’.” He says, and you turn from where you were touching the cover of his unmade bed. Fingertips noting the softness of it. He sleeps here… your brain announces as though it’s unfathomable to imagine him at rest in his own bed. Which was tucked into the corner of the all-wood room, three circular windows running beside its edge.

Looking at his hand again, finally getting the courage to bring it up.

“And your knuckles are swelling up. All bruised. They weren’t like that earlier.”

He smirks, completely bypassing your question, “looking at my hands, ay? Didn’t pick you to be that kind of girl.”

You sneer at his stupid tease, irritated at his arrogance.

“Just seemed all rather impromptu, and now you’re back here with bruised up fists that you didn’t have earlier.” You challenge, after walking slowly away from his bed.

“You don’t stop until you get an answer y’like. Is that right, princess?” He scoffs.

But he knows you’re brilliant at reading someone, tragically so. And it’s obvious you’re not as stupid as he wishes. Because he watches as your eyes narrow, clear that you know he’s dodging your questions for a reason.

“And you don’t give answers unless it suits you best, I take, captain?”

To that, he chuckles, and decides to prove you right, walking over to grab your wrist with the unscathed hand.

“M’clothes are a bit big on you…” he comments, partially using it as an excuse to drag his eyes down your body again. Completely changing the subject.

“Tomorrow, we’re pulling into port, we’ll buy some stuff that actually fits you.” Despite being the one to decide this, there's a pang of disappointment in his chest at you getting out of his oversized clothes. He ignores it. The hand that's becoming all too familiar to your wrist is leading you out of his quarters, and your eyes dart to take in the room a final time. Hoping to commit it to memory.

“That’s a bit doting. Are you going to take me with you, or is that a far fetched wish?” You drawl, already figuring you’ll be locked away while they roam about. Buying you clothes while you sit prisoner.

You should probably just be grateful for the fact he is willing to spend gold on you, given the circumstances. But who would you be kidding if you tried to portray that right now. ‘Thanks for buying me clothes while I sat locked up in your jail cell!’ He would audibly cackle if you said that.

He chuckles at your bitter sounding tone, “I’d bet you’d be rather upset if we went into town without you.”

You scowl at him, having to bite your tongue as to not say anything rash, choosing not to respond at all.

He’s taken you outside of his room, and locked his door with the small ring of keys he keeps on him. Beginning a slow walk along the corridors of the ship, seemingly in no hurry at all. He pulls your arm to rest firmly between his elbow and ribcage as you stroll the halls, as though you’re on some kind of leisurely walk.

To your silent annoyance, he rolls his eyes with amusement, knowing you'll hold quite the grudge if he doesn't take you out when the ships docks at Sintir. “I’ll think about it, dove.”

The two of you walk in quiet for a minute. Clacking of shoes against decking echoes through the hallways below deck. You get lost in thought, until his voice quickly coaxes you out it.

“We’re stopping for two nights.” He suddenly clarifies for you, “After we buy you some suitable clothes, maybe you can come into town after dark.”

You’re skeptical of his offer, given that it’s not a guarantee. But you’re desperate to just get off this ship for a bit. Not even in an attempt to escape, you know that wouldn’t work even if you tried. Purely to be on land again, and around people who aren’t felons at sea.

So you soften your frown a bit, going quiet for a few moments. You decide to try the hopeless approach, no matter how weak your faith is in it. But maybe you'll get some pity from the man beside you, “I miss the towns, and being on solid earth, that’s all. It's all I've ever known.”

You were already embarrassed at how the helpless tone sounded on your voice. Maybe because is wasn't genuine, but either way, internally you gagged a little.

He laughs abruptly at your words, almost shocked that you attempted to persuade him with that.

“No need to pull the damsel in distress card.” He’d shook his head, smiling wide with humor at your expense, “My decision is impartial to a poor attempt at manipulation.”

“It’s not manipulation!” You turn to snap at him, dropping the meek mannerisms just as quickly as you put them on.

“Oh but it is, darling.” He bumps your shoulder with his own, turning a corner that reveals another set of stairs, “y’bad as any other pirate. Outside of the shitty lying.”

You shake your head, huffing out air from your nose as he leads you up them. The annoying thing is that he's right. However you still fight to prove your point.

“Can you blame me? I just want to go into a town and do something normal. Have a little stability amongst this shit show!” Your grumble made him chuckle, as it seemed to always do. Like as if he could not take a word you say seriously, even if he tried.

“I suppose I can’t fault you for it.” He hums, pushing a hatch open after unlinking your arms. He went through it first so he could help you up. Hands steadying you once your feet come in contact with the floor. Because suddenly, you’re on the bow of the ship. The afternoon sun out and warm on your skin as the waves are calmly lapping over themselves.

You momentarily forget that you’re pissed off with him. All you can focus on is the fresh air and golden sun.

His eyes take in your deep inhalation, and the way you look so relieved to be outside. Understandable given the fact you spent 2 days locked in a tiny room.

A feeling he can’t name stirs in his chest. And the voice in the back of his head is suddenly encouraging taking you into Sintir while the ships docked there.

“It’s… nice out.” You exhale, your gaze veering to him momentarily as you speak. His green eyes are locked onto yours, and you quickly make to slide your attention back out on the blue water.

Which is easy to look at, since it doesn’t technically end. Just melts into the equally blue horizon where the sky meets the sea.

“It almost always is, up this far north.” He nods, pushing the sudden emotion away. “It won’t stay that way once we leave the port. There’s a storm well in due this week.”

You mentally file away that you’re up north, but a part of you gets anxious with the idea of being out while there’s a storm.

On land, you always enjoyed them. They brought a sense of serenity to you. The thunder and rain sometimes came so loud in Kelna it drowned out everything going on in your life. Temporarily, of course, however it was nice while it lasted. But on water was a different story. You’d heard they’re rocky rides, treacherous even. That ships often enter a storm, and don't come out the other side.

“Don’t look s’worried.” He comments at your suddenly terrified energy, he places a palm on your back to usher you forwards.

“Just that I really don’t want to die out here.” You sigh, not denying the fear since it’s clearly that obvious.

You walk willingly wherever he’s decided to take you, sharing a short wave to the man up by the ships wheel. He had messy head of hair, one that you imagined when it was windy, would blow all over the place.

“Have faith in us, Y/N. We’ve weathered many storms jus’ fine.”

“Oi, H,” the scruffy pirate you just waved at calls down to his captain, as he tracks down the stairs with you. Going from the steering deck to the main deck.

Harry tilts his head over his shoulder, pausing on the stairs where you both stand, indicating he’s listening with a nod. You briefly trail your eyes over his side profile. The curve of his nose, and the cut of his jaw.

But his crewmate barely gets a couple words out before he’s interrupted shortly after, “How did ya go wi—“

“Fine, Liam.” Abruptly, Harry cuts in. Not rudely, but curtly.

The man on the wheel, who now has a name to you— Liam— alternates his gaze between the two of you suddenly. Like he’s dawning upon why he just got interrupted.

“Ah, I see.” He nods, quickly busying himself with what he was doing beforehand.

Harry continues walking you down a set off stairs, back down to main deck.

“I’m going to assume that was about earlier, and has something to do with why you dragged me out of my cell.” You say, attempting indifference.

“You’d assume right.” He nods, but you wait for him to say something more— which he doesn’t.

You sigh in frustration, “I'll also take that's why I'm still up here, and not locked back up."

You're trying to gauge yet again how much of his actions are kindness, and how much of them are out of an attempt to gain something.

"Not why you're out here, 'm tryna give ya a bit of sun." He brings you to a stop at the far left of the main deck, smirking as he talks, "I've got to patch up a old sail, incase we need it. No better place to do it but out here."

He pays no mind to you as he kneels down to a storage unit a few feet away from you in the floor, unlatching it, and hauling out a huge canvas sail it. The sheet crinkles as he carries it out, and dumps it on the wooden deck.

You frown, wondering if he's the only one on the ship who can do any sort of needlework... because it seems like the only reasonable option as to why he's doing it himself. So you ask, "Why exactly are you doing it?"

He laughs, striding back over to pull a much larger sewing kit from the bottom of the storage space, and also sheet of spare canvas.

"You are filled with clichés of us, darling. What is makin' y'ask that?" He chucks the kit and extra fabric down, following to sit shortly after.

You're still standing as you try to conjure up an answer that doesn't sound unbelievably stupid. But he is cross-legged, pulling the damaged side of the sail over his muscular thighs.

"Because..." You pause, still unsure how to phrase it as you stare at him. You're looking at his side profile again, and it's lit by the overhead sun.

He glances your way, essentially looking up at you from where he's positioned on the floor. He finishes your sentence for you, "'Cause I'm a captain? And why would I do something productive for myself and my crew when I could make someone below me do it?"

"Well... basically."

"You're going t’find out very quickly the dynamic between me ‘n my crew." he pulls open the sewing box, filled with larger needles, and thick thread.

"I may be their Captain, but we’re all like brothers. I see them as that, not as my workers. They are my team, and we help out whenever and wherever we can." He states, sounding completely sincere, "And, I'm the only one that can actually hand sew things, so here we are."

"Here we are..." you parrot quietly, almost finding it endearing the way he talks about his crew mates.

Delicately, he’s threading up a needle and starting to take it through the sail and its new panel, lined up over the relatively large tear. His hands are steady, hair fallen over his eyes as he concentrated on starting the stitch. You stare at the dark bruising over his knuckles, and you swear that wasn’t as deep a shade earlier.

Without thought, you slowly sink to the ground, back resting against the side of the boat, not waiting long before you start to ask him more questions.

“Whatever happened to put that large of a hole in your sail?” You’d quizzed.

He knew it wouldn’t take long before you started to pry him with more of your wonders, “A cannonball.”

Your face can’t hide the shock, because of how casually he answered you. Your lips were parted in surprise at his response when he glanced over to you. A smirk over his mouth, popping a dimple on his cheek.

“Jus’ a run in with another ship.” He mused, “They tore a hole in our sail, and we tore a hole into the side of their boat.”

You almost sputter a laugh, of course he has to brag about not having lost that altercation.

“I hope you have a winning streak under your belt.” You shake your head, smiling a little.

“Why? Because I’m carryin’ such precious cargo.” Alluding to you with a charming cadence to his voice.

You’re stretched out in the sun as he watches you, and you almost look happy. If he didn’t know any better. But maybe you are a little. Circumstantially, you’re probably far from it. But in this moment, you look calm in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“Obviously. And all this would be for nothing if I go down with your ship and you don’t get your gold.”

“Tragic really, after putting up with y’through all this. Including jumpin' off m'own ship.” He teases.

“It’s been like, 5 days. I cant have been that annoying outside of the jumping thing.” You can’t tell if you’re offended at his jabs like you should be. You wish you fully were, but the banter is almost pleasing to have with him. It gives you something to laugh at. And also gives you an excuse to be insolent with him.

“Mm, if only y’knew…” he sighs in faux exhaustion, a tiny laugh escaping through his façade.

The way the ship cruised through the waves was inexplicably calming to experience up here. With the sun and the warm around surrounding you.

His hands were weaving the needle through the material, it’s mesmerising to watch. He’s definitely skilled at it, since it has hardly taken him long to get one side sewed on.

“You look quite content over there.” He comments, not looking up from where he was.

The observation stuns you a little, because of how true it was.

“I… it’s hard not to be after being in a tiny wooden room for 2 days straight.” You answer, but it doesn’t feel like the only reason why.

“Y'know,” he begins, “I excepted someone like you to have the worst set of sea sickness, and to be constantly terrified, but you've seemingly proved me wrong.”

“Have you underestimated me?”

“Possibly.” He remarks. And you don’t answer him again.

You're struck with the realisation that you actually don’t hate being above deck. Or really on the ship— outside of the reasons to why you’re on it. You think you might have underestimated yourself.

Like a reel of film, your mind flashes through images of a life like this. Outside of the damn cell at the bottom of the boat.

One where you spend your days free on the water. Both free in regards to your imprisonment here— but also from your life and looming responsibilities at home.

You envision yourself suddenly in the most pirate-like attire, standing up on those huge masts like they do in fictions sold at the bookstore— the odd one that would romanticise the life of piracy instead of completely defacing it.

It hits you like a slap in the face. One that stings and burns on the side of your cheek, lingering for days after it initially impacted.

You have to forcibly squeeze your eyes closed, because there is no room to have feelings like that in your already muddled brain.

Harry speaks up from where you forgot he was sitting, “What exactly is Kelna like?”

“Prison.” You blurt, hand almost coming to slap over your own mouth in surprise.

Your head is in disarray, and that somehow slipped its way out. Because all the sudden, you realise you almost felt more trapped in your own home than you honestly do here.

You tried to escape this ship out of fear that you would be killed— or sent somewhere worse— but when that element is removed from the equation, you’re certain anything is better than Kelna.

“Im kidding—“ you hurriedly spew out, but his head is turned to frown at you, “it’s nice… it’s great. Very lovely people and we have… yea. It’s great.”

Of course, you love your family. Some of them. Your younger brother and older brother, your younger sister. But outside of your siblings, there were few people to love.

“Sound like y’trying to convince yourself more than me.”

You guess you kind of were in a sense. And a part of you wanted to just say how much you never wanted to go back, if that were an option. You only ever told your older brother Poe about how desperate you were to get away from the court. One person. One soul out of this whole world of them knows.

Only Poe knows how terrified you were that Misha— Kelna's infamous prophet— would come to the podium to speak the most misconstrued riddle, that supposedly announced you were to take the crown. Your own stomach churns at the concept.

But revealing that to Harry felt like giving away a vulnerable piece of yourself. He doesn't deserve to be the second person you entrust with something so pressing for you. Which you remind yourself that you swore not to lay an ounce of trust in this man’s hands. That your impartialness to a separate life here is due to your life at home. And that freedom on this ship is unlikely.

“I’m not…” you breathe out in defeat. Trying desperately to steer clear of the subject, because its easy to drag you into a pit of ever-welling anxiety.

However, he can sense your complete shift in energy. This is your first time really talking about home. And it seems like you have more than bitterness to it. He expected a whimsical answer. One that showed your longing for return, or that you even valued part of being in a court. But he got nothing of the sorts.

It slips from his soft mouth before he can stop it, “Are you not safe at home?”

He’s completely disregarded his sewing venture, and has turned to look right at you. His features have softened, and he looks genuinely a little concerned. But you brush it off for deceit. Of course he would want to know something like that. Want to pick away at your seams until all the sudden you're unraveling in the palm of his hands, tearing your whole village down with it.

“Yes!” You jump to clear that up. Secondly feeling like he's almost babying you.

“Probably safer there than I am here.” You bark, but it’s hardly true if you really think about it. Attempts on a royals life are always a threat, and it’s happened to your family members before. Which transcends into a whole other story, equally as painful for you as anything else at home.

His brows pull into a frown. He realises he’s struck something sensitive here. The topic seems to make you recoil completely. Your body language has changed, just like that. Straight from relaxed to on edge.

“I feel like there's a pretty equal risk." He provides, picking back up the threaded needle. Seeing what more he can coax out of you.

"I—" you cut yourself off.

"I am fine." Your tone is conclusive.

"Is that why you always sneak out of your royal residence in the middle of the night?" He pushes, a sarcastic lilt to his deep voice.

"That isn't any of your business!" You groan, "I'm not asking why it is you're a felon at sea, or your tragic past life that's lead you here, am I?"

"But you probably wonder..." he smirks, impartial to your jab.

"I don't, you ass!" You state defiantly.

"I'm just trying to gauge how much you actually like your homeland."

You scoff in disbelief, "Oh, piss off. You just want something to hold over me."

It's clear to him something much deeper is going on than what he initially thought. But its also evident that you are far from interested in talking about it now. So, he files away what information and suspicion he had, and finally allows the subject to change.

"Whatever princess... y'getting mouthy, and I've gathered that usually doesn't end well for either of us." he rolls his eyes in amusement, "You'll have to to tell me what kind of clothes you like, so I know what I'm in for."

"It only doesn't end well because you're so goddamn pushy." You huff.

"This is why you ended up locked in a cell for two days." his tone is airy, considering the topic, "Also, best of y'to recall I'm the one who decides whether or not ya coming off the ship tomorrow."

You hold back your bitter quip at his reminder, but not the deep sigh from your lungs. You feel stressed. Overwhelmed even. Which is the only good thing about your tiny room below deck, its stable. You know what you get down there. Yourself, and no personal questions that leave you reeling.

He finishes his double stitch in silence. Thinking of you, and wondering what exactly your perception of your home life is. In a long answer— not the short and guarded ones he's currently receiving.

You sit, still in the sun, but feeling significantly more riled up than earlier. That's when Harry stands from his work, and your eyes dart to the patch that's now one with the sail. Intricately sewed in place, with a clearly detail-oriented eye.

"An' she's done." He nods proudly, talking to himself as he picks the complete task up from where it was spread on the deck. Carrying it back into where it came from— along with the closed sewing kit. Laying it folded in the floor compartment and latching it closed.

His hands brush themselves off along his black pants. They admittedly fit him perfectly. Nipped in at his sculpted waist, and outlining his likely firm thighs.

His green eyes slanted down to you, as if he could feel your own gaze burning into his tanned skin. He smirks, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he looked at you.

He was trouble.

He looked at you like you were a game to be played. A challenge to be conquered. And somehow you met him right at that very level. You wanted to prove something to him— and the thing is, you don't even know what.

Its not something you can reverse, or take back. It's already long started, the second you pushed back from his demands when you first met.

His legs that you were just studying stride over to where you sit. He towers over you, examining you with a silent and smug smile.

"A corset, perhaps?" He proclaimed without context, and your face twists in confusion.

"Although, I've heard they are very hard to get on and off a woman." It clicks in your brain he's currently talking about you. Imagining you in the likes of a corset.

It's like he was pondering it aloud just for his own sick enjoyment, because he keeps going as your expression quickly bleeds into a scowl.

"And, there is no doubt in my mind you'd drive your own elbow into my stomach before you let me help lace you into a corset. Or out of it." His voice has dropped an octave, and his chocolatey hair has fallen over his forehead again. For such a heinous topic, he has the face of an angel. Maybe a fallen one... but an angel nonetheless.

"You would be correct." You confirm, "And I spend enough time in corsets at home. God forbid I wear one when theres no need for it."

He suddenly juts a hand out for you to take, which you stare at for an awfully long time, analysing the dark marks over his knuckles. Eventually settling to let him help you stand. It pulls you up effortlessly despite its visibly injury, and you feel the rough parts of his large hand as it cups yours.

"Espcially if im going to be laying around in a cell, whats the point in that?"

He still has grip on your hand, "Oh, dove, y'not going back down there for a little bit."

Your gaze narrows immediately. And you ask the first question and only question that makes sense in your mind.

"Who else is down there?"

"Someone who deserves to be left in the room with the cuff holders on the wall. Attached to them."

Your stomach sinks a little, recalling him saying thats sectioned off for people who have done truly bad things. Seems like it would explain his battered up knuckles perfectly.

But with the closest thing you’ve gotten to an answer all day, you’re quick to mentally move onto what the effects you the most.

"Where am i gonna..."

He says with a completely unfazed expression, "With me."

“With you?”

“That’s what I said, no?” He raises his brows, “unless you’d rather be down there with him. Who we’d then certainly have to kill once he knows you’re here.”

“Christ.” A wave of shock rocks through you at his vulgar wording, “can you put me nowhere else?”

“No.” He states, starting to walk with your hand gripped in his, “it’s just for the night. Don’t worry s’much.”

“Don’t worry? You just told me you would have to kill a man if I chose to stay away from you.”

You’re glaring at him as he holds open a door for you— one that leads to another kitchen room— despite you’re bitter look, he’s unbothered entirely.

“Let’s get you something to eat. Allow ya to process the fact you’re stuck with me for a night.”

———

Your night was significantly different to all the others you’d had on the ship this past week.

The evening had come on relatively quick. You’d sat above deck after he fed you some fruit, and watched the sun set as his crew gathered to share a pint.

You observed their dynamics, and the way a few men got themselves silly on one too many beers. Stumbling all over the deck.

Harry stayed closer to sober though—a bit tipsy, but nothing drastic— and as evening bleed into night, many of the boys had turned in for bed around midnight.

His blonde crew mate had shouted out for you to come down and have a pint, but you laughed it off. His drunken plea seeming far out of line considering the circumstances.

Not long after most of them had left, Harry came up to where you sat. You were perched atop a step on the stairs, and you know he’d been watching you. Making sure— as you stayed a fair distance away— that you didn’t disappear.

His hand had gestured out to you again as he had apparently come to collect you. You stood without it’s help, and he snorted a bitter laugh.

“You're infuriating, you know? Unbelievably so. And I feel it all the way in my stomach.” The lilt in his voice is intoxicating. He sounds like he disdains you, yet is addicted to the feeling all at the same time.

He’s standing the step below yours, and once you had fully straightened out, you were slightly above him. It almost gave you an added boost of confidence, “Right in here?”

Your hand reached out to breach the minimal distance, brushing your pointer and middle finger against where the skin of his stomach is.

His hand grabbed around your wrist, staring at you— he pressed your palm flat against his chest— you could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the sheer black blouse he was still in.

His bruised knuckles are pressed over yours. The dark spots a mosaic of blacks and blues— you wonder how bad it would hurt if you pressed down on them. Just out of spite, of course.

“Right there.” He affirmed.

“Too bad you have to room with me tonight.” You sigh in mock sympathy.

He looks like he’s about to say something else, when he bites his tongue and does his usual thing— tugging you along wherever he plans to go.

His leftover mates say goodnight as he walks past— all of them regarding you as well, surprisingly.

You’re lead to his quarters as you’d suspected, and you’re now faced with the situation of how this is going to all pan out.

Once inside the dark room, he lights a wall candle with a match— that he pulled from god knows where— casting the space in a golden glow.

He is quick to then shed the black material that’s covering his chest over himself without hesitation. Your gaze skates along the muscled skin of his back. Littered in black ink and scars that immediately piqued your curiosity. Ones that you undeniably want to trace over, and enquire how exactly they got there. Which feels like an odd thought to be entertaining considering how much you push to hate him.

His hands unlatch his belt, still adorning all its weapons. And he walks to the foot of his bed, laying it atop the cover.

“Would I be correct to assume I’m taking the floor?” You put forward, and his head turns over his shoulder.

“That one’s up t’you. Unless you’re that desperate to get away from me.” He drawls, the alcohol making him a tad drowsy now that the buzz has worn off.

A part of you begs to be stubborn. To say no. But the other half of you in rioting to lay down on a mattress for the first time in almost a week. Because you couldn’t physically sleep another night on the hard wooden floor.

You breathe outward, walking over in silence as you climb beneath his sheets without warrant.

He tries to ignores it, but a small smile breaks out over his lips before he can stop it. So he turns swiftly around, unzipping his black pants and shedding them off his long legs.

“What exactly are you doing?” You shrilly ask, palms ready to shield your eyes if he decides to strip the only remaining fabric below his laurel-adorning hips.

“You’re not sleeping naked next to me.” Certainty riddles your tone, and there is no way you’ll budge on it.

But to your statement he laughs, “M’not naked.”

“Not far off it either.” You murmur, observing as he walks over to the candle he not long lit and blows it out.

The room falls into darkness, all you can hear are the plodding of his feet on the wood floor.

Once he’s next to the bed, you hear his voice, “You’re on my side, by the way. S’budge up.”

You scoot over without words, and feel the mattress sink as his weight comes onto it.

“Better than the floor, no?” He asks quietly, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Undecided.” You whisper. “Comfier I suppose.”

His breath is quiet and consistent as you both fall quiet. You’re certain he falls asleep before you, because you’re awake for a while. Staring at the ceiling wondering how you got here yet again.

But eventually, the tiredness you’ve been feeling for the last couple days catches up on you, and it lulls you into a deep sleep. Unbroken from any uncomfortable surfaces or loud noises. Just peace.

Peace until you stir for the first time in the morning.

When soft light is shining through the circular windows, and you realise how truly warm you are. All the edges of your consciousness are blurred and hazy with your sleep induced state. You nestle into what you thought was the mattress, but register somewhere in your head that your body is pressed against someone.

And after that, it’s confirmed when they move. A slight roll, and a warm heavy arm that drapes over your waist, tugging you closer.

Your eyes dart open, and are met with the sideways view of a swallow on a collarbone. It stops you dead in your tracks. Because slowly you realise your plastered to someone's side. Harry's side. Legs thrown over his hips, head nestled into his neck.

You're frozen for a moment. Because he smells so nice. But alarm bells are sounding in your head. Too close to the enemy, they riot.

The rigidness of your body stirs him again, rolling him further into you. Legs intertwined, and the bridge of your nose bumping against the curve of his throat. Now he's truly swallowing up all your senses. His scent is genuinely intoxicating. Salty, just as you'd imagine a pirate would smell— of the ocean and all that lies beneath it. But it has a woodsy tone to it, deep and masculine. One you wonder how he just naturally carries.

His tattoos are gorgeous up close, chest chiseled and dusted with soft dark hairs. You use the finger that’s between your body and his to brush gently over the butterfly on his stomach. Tracing the details, despite how wrong it feels. In your moments of timid admiration, you don’t realise his eyes have opened. Green and glazed over with sleep, it takes him a solid minute to register what he's watching you do.

An intake of breathe, and his gravelly voice pressed out the only thing he can even think of saying, “g’morning.”

Physically, you flinch. Startled at his sudden consciousness. Finger withdrawing from its tender movements, your heart pounding.

“I— hello.” You whisper, unsure how long he’s been awake.

He stretches, which in turn scoots his body down the bed, leaving you face to face with him. A pink tongue juts out over his lips— wetting them.

“I should’ve established a no-cuddle policy.” You state, eyes wandering the plains of his face.

To this, his morning voice rumbles a laugh, “are you trying to blame me for this? ‘Cause you’re on m’side, touching up my chest, dove.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, glancing to the gap from where you originally feel asleep and where you are now. Red flushed over your face, It does look incriminating on your end.

A guilty sigh falls from your lips before you purse them together. Not having an explanation for how you ended up like this.

“S’okay.” His voice was so deep, and it sunk into your ears. Almost drawing a shiver out of you. It was attractive.

You can’t tell if that observation is coming only from the fact you have just spent a night curled into his chest. But it’s all you can think about.

“Didn’t mean to.” You say, the closest you were coming to an apology.

“Mmm, I bet.” He murmurs, his hand leaving from where it was on your waist and going to comb through his hair.

Perfectly tousled from sleep, he brushed through it with his fingers. You take the opportunity now that his hand has left your waist, to sit up, averting your eyes from the way his touch glides through his soft hair.

You look out the window, and immediately you’re shocked. You see land. Not even that far away.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“There’s land…”

“Ah,” he also props himself up with his elbows, “so there is.”

“Best we get ready.” He shrugs his bare shoulders, and you quickly jolt your head this way.

We?

He’s far from shy as he threw the covers off himself, with the daylight streaming through the windows, his whole body was on display.

You wondered if he realised the kind of body he had on him. Because undeniably, seeing him in just boxers makes your throat bob.

“Do you say we because you intend on taking me off the ship?” You ask, a silent plea behind your words.

“Tonight.” He states, glances back to see the palpable excitement spread over your face.

You rush out of bed, a sudden burst of energy at his confirmation. He is shocked as suddenly your arms collide with his bare waist.

“Thank you. Thank you.” You really are grateful, and you’re so desperate to get off this boat for a bit.

His lips part in surprise, “that’s… y’welcome?”

You hold him longer than you should, a part of you a little ashamed at your lack of self discipline. Because you should be able to contain yourself. You eventually pull yourself from him, smiling in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“We’re probably gonna dock in… 20 minutes? We’ll be gone for most of the day. I’ll come back and get you at evening.”

It sounded like a long time to wait. But you are sure you could do it. So you nod, enthusiastically.

You go and sit yourself on the edge of his bed, wondering where you’re going to end up— what the town will be like, where you’ll go— all while watching Harry go through his closet for an outfit.

It reminded you almost of how a royal would dress, particularly about what came out and what would go with what.

He stands with his back to you, still just in boxers. He has a nice ass.

You mentally scold yourself, yet unable to look away from him as he pulls a maroon pair of pants over his hips. They’re left unzipped as he gets a off-white linen shirt to tuck into them. However the shirt was left almost entirely unbuttoned. And his cross necklace sits between his pecs that are on full display.

He belts his weaponry around his waist, taking it off the wall from where they were hung. Odd of him to leave them so in the open, when you could’ve stabbed him in the night while he slept.

“Are you leaving me in here?” You ask, watching as he collects a few last minute things from around his room.

“S’long as you don’t trash the place.”

You think about teasing him, but decide not to risk it. You piss him off, then you’ll likely get put somewhere without anything to snoop around. And also miss out on getting off the ship tonight.

So you just nod. And at that, he’s satisfied.

“Well, m’off then. Don’t do anything stupid, Princess.” He raises his brows, face serious until it breaks into a small smile.

“I won’t.” You lie, because how are you meant to guarantee that.

He walks out, and obviously locks you in. You wait an hour, until you’ve been docked for a while before you start to dig around his room.

Not forgetting to take some time looking out the window to figure out where the hell you are in the world. Nothing was geographically giving it away, but once you saw a small fishing cart on the pier, you read Sintir fishery.

Sintir is so far away from your homeland, you let out an audible gasp when you read it. There’s no fucking way, you’d thought.

But as you walk away from the window, you register that it has technically been a week since you’d been taken.

You ponder it as you start to go through his things. You feel like some kind of home invader. Rummaging through a trunk under his bed, raiding draws, and flicking through his racks of clothes. Digging into pockets as though you were waiting to happen upon something of value.

It turned out to be the smartest places you looked, because in a thick raincoat, you fucking found it.

A key. One he has to have forgotten about, since there’s no way in the world he’s left you in here without being certain there’s no way to get out.

You ran to the door of his room, and held your breath as the sharp metal got pushed into the lock by your eager hands.

You turned it, jostling it a bit. And it clicked.

Quietly, you reach for the handle, gently pulling it down and breathing out as the door unlatches.

There’s no time to wait as you slink outside. Clicking it shut, and slowly trying to recall your way back down to the chambers.

Every noise has you on edge, and you’re terrified to get caught. Waiting to turn a corner and one of his crew mates to be there, catching you in the act. But it’s not enough to stop you. You may have made a few wrong turns, but you end up in a hallway that jogs your memory.

You make your way down the stairs to the cells, unable to keep your footsteps entirely quiet. It’s without warning you realise the space down there is in fact still occupied by someone… just like you’d initially feared.

You’re met with a guttural groan, and suddenly your anxiety nearly triples. It’s masculine— and when you reach the bottom of the stairs, still out of view from the cell door— you can confirm it when the voice echoes out from the dim room.

“Let me out, you… you fuckin’ bastards.” Whoever it is sounds exhausted, like they’ve been teetering on the edges of life or death for hours.

When you don’t reply he lets out a wet and chesty cough as he continues, “I don’t care about tha’ whore no more! The princess means nothing to me.”

Your heart is racing at the mention of yourself, and the man sounds like he’s dying. It’s certain in your mind now this man’s face was probably what caused the bruising on Harrys fist.

A heavy bang comes from his cell, sounding like metal cuffs being slammed against a wall.

His speech turns to slur as you slowly back yourself back up the stairs. Curiosity always kills the cat, you think. And you wished you’d stayed in Harry’s room.

“Or jus’ kill me already!” He begs, tone shaking with exhausted rage, “already beat me to a pulp after I called that royal a good f’nothing slut. S’cmon!”

That was your cue to leave, and as you break off into a near run down the halls, you’re shaking the whole time.

Yet somehow, despite what anyone would’ve expected, you made it back to Captains quarters without a single run in. Not a soul knows you found a key.

You slide down the relocked door once you’re inside, and pant with not only the physical exertion, but the anxiety you just put yourself under.

It takes a fair while before you can move again, but your hands skate along the floorboards beneath you, tracing the wood grains to calm down.

Rising, you go back to his closet to put the small key back exactly where you found it. Not taking chances in trying to harbour it for yourself.

The room is deafeningly quiet, it forces your mind to hear the likely dying man’s words on repeat. And wonder if Harry really punched the man because he called you a slut…

The only person that knows is him.

He only knows that the second that sack of shit opened his mouth and said the only thing you’d be good for is ‘a quick fuck and some gold’ he absolutely lost it.

He only knows the feeling of pure, red-hot anger that took over him until he slammed the side of his fist into the slimy man’s face. More than once. He’s not sure how many times, until it was bloody, and until his knuckles already had a bruise festering below the skin— darkening by the minute.

And god, can he not stop thinking about how it made him feel. It was all consuming. It solidified that you were not going back down into the cells. He would rather have you in his own bed than within a 5 metre radius of that scum.

So as he walks through the town, splitting off from his crew to go by you clothes, he realises that you’re making more of an impression on him than he thought.

And while he piles up half a wardrobe for you, not even worrying about how much it’ll all add up to, he clocks just how… infatuated he’s possibly become with you.

Just how he’s suddenly ended up in this position. Where he hates you, yet wants to protect you— and even sometimes dote on you.

God— It’s dangerous.

That feeling that lingers when he thinks about you. Both a good and a bad one.

You were dangerous for him… and he’s still trying to decide how much, and in what way. But the biggest thing, is he’s worried for when he finds out.

Whether it’s going to be when you stab him in the back— either metaphorically or physically— or when you trace your delicate touch over his bare chest, so gently his mental resolve cracks along with the walls guarding his heart.

His conclusion as he checks out with a plethora of clothes for you, you’re either going to kill him, or he’s going to end up killing for you.

Oh, and that he’s certain he wants to kiss you. But that’s a whole other thing he has to mentally unpack.

———

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lou-0111 · 20 days

Text

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love)

y/n doesnt believe in love, taylor, their best friend (who knows their view on love) tries to convince that luke would be a great boyfriend for them: bit of a long one today - 3.4k words

Love is stupid, ok? It’s pointless and there is absolutely no need for it. And no, It’s not just because I've had bad experiences, it’s the whole thing. Girls changing themselves for the boy they like. Boys being mean to people to get girls attention, the whole thing is just stupid.

If there's a prize for rotten judgement I guess I've already won that

I feel like I’ve made a series of poor decisions in my life, each one heavier than the last. This pattern of regret and self-reproach feels like it’s consuming me from within. It's become almost second nature to make mistakes because I've fallen into the habit of making them, and each misstep adds to the weight of my past errors.

No man is worth the aggravation

No guy at Camp Half-Blood is worth going through that emotional turmoil again. It’s simply easier to avoid falling in love altogether. The past is full of lessons learned—the kind where you thought you'd finally moved on, only to find yourself trapped in the same old cycles. The gods had their trials, and there's no need for us to repeat their mistakes.

That's ancient history, been there, done that

This happened to the gods in the past, it shouldn't be repeating with us again

Who d'you think you're kiddin'? He's the earth and heaven to you

“Y/N, you have to listen to me on this.” My best friend, Taylor starts, “Luke would be the perfect boyfriend for you. First, he’s genuinely kind-hearted. It’s not just something he puts on for show—he’s consistently thoughtful and considerate in everything he does. You’ve seen it yourself, right? How he interacts with everyone around him, always making sure people are okay and that they’re feeling included.

And let’s talk about his skills—he’s an exceptional swordsman. His dedication and proficiency with a sword are impressive.

But it’s not just about physical skills. Luke is amazing with the younger campers. He’s got this natural ability to connect with them, to mentor them, and to make them feel important. He treats them with such patience and respect. You know how much that matters, seeing someone who doesn’t just see the younger kids as a burden but genuinely enjoys helping them grow.

So, don’t let your past experiences cloud your judgement about him. Luke isn’t just another face in the crowd; he’s someone who genuinely fits what you need in your life. It’s worth considering that maybe, just maybe, he could be the one who changes your perspective on love.”

Everyday, every damn day, Taylor goes on about how me and Luke would be great together. But I don’t see it. Love is stupid, Taylor is stupid for thinking I like him.

Try to keep it hidden Honey, we can see right through you (Oh, no) Girl, you can't conceal it We know how you're feelin', who you're thinkin' of

We were walking back from training one day when again, she started the whole luke chat. “Y/N, I need to be real with you here. It’s becoming impossible to ignore how you keep watching Luke. You spend hours just observing him as he trains. It's not just casual glances; you’re practically mesmerised by how he moves with such skill and focus. Every time he picks up his sword, there’s this look in your eyes that I can’t ignore.”

Excuse me? He’s the best swordsman at camp, obviously I'm going to watch him, to get pointers on how to get better, nothing else.

“And it’s not just during training. When Luke interacts with the younger campers, your attention is entirely on him. You’ve seen how he takes the time to teach them, to encourage them, and how he genuinely connects with them on their level. You watch him as he patiently helps them learn and grow, and there’s this soft, almost admiring look on your face. It’s clear that you’re moved by how he treats them with such kindness and care.” “I just think it’s sweet how he takes his time teaching them, nothing more, I'd be the same way if anyone else did what he does.”

“I know you’re trying to play it cool and act like it doesn’t matter, but let’s be honest—your feelings are showing. It’s like you’re trying to hide behind this façade that love isn’t worth it or that you’re not interested, but it’s obvious to everyone around us. We all see how your face lights up when he’s around, how you hang onto his every word and action.”

“Woah, you need to slow down, someone might hear you, my face doesn't ‘light up’ ok Tay? I’m a listener, sorry if i listen when people talk to me, I don’t like luke, never have, never will.”

Stop denying it. We can see right through you. It’s not just about admiring him from a distance; it’s about the way you light up when you talk about him or when he’s in the room. Your actions are screaming that you have feelings for him, even if you’re trying to convince yourself otherwise. It’s ok if you like him, if you’re in love, it’ll be good to put your heart out again.”

Where my heart can get hurt again. I mumble walking away. I do not like Luke.

You swoon, you sigh Why deny it? Uh-oh It's too cliché (Ah-ah-ah-ah) I won't say I'm in love

Being in love feels like a foolish, unnecessary risk to me. It’s as if admitting that I’m in love would be an act of surrender, a sign of weakness. I keep telling myself that I don’t need a man to complete my life or make me happy. My independence has always been my strength, and the idea of falling for someone seems like it would undermine that strength.

I’ve managed perfectly well on my own, navigating life without relying on anyone else to validate my worth or fill a void. I’ve built my own stability and happiness through my own efforts, and I’m proud of that. The thought of opening myself up to love feels like an invitation to vulnerability and potential heartbreak, and I’m not ready to risk that.

Admitting that I’m in love would mean acknowledging that I need someone, and that’s something I’m determined to avoid. I don’t want to be in a position where my happiness depends on another person’s actions or feelings. I’ve seen how love can complicate things, how it can lead to disappointment and pain. It’s easier to stay detached and focus on myself rather than deal with the unpredictability of a romantic relationship.

I keep convincing myself that I’m better off without the emotional upheaval that love often brings. I’m self-sufficient and capable, and I don’t need anyone else to complete me or make me feel whole. Embracing love feels like it would disrupt the balance I’ve carefully created in my life. So, I put up a wall and tell myself that I’m not in love and that I don’t need a man to be content. It’s a way of protecting myself from the potential pain that comes with opening my heart.

I thought my heart had learned its lesson It feels so good when you start out (Ah) My head is screaming, "Get a grip, girl" "Unless you're dyin' to cry your heart out"

I won’t put myself through that again. I’ve been burned too many times by love to let it happen once more. Each time I’ve opened my heart in the past, I’ve ended up disappointed and hurt. The cycle seems to repeat itself with every relationship I’ve been in: the initial charm and allure give way to a painful reality that shatters the illusion.

Every guy I've been with starts off presenting the best version of themselves—perfectly polished, attentive, and seemingly sincere. They act like they’re everything I’ve ever wanted, showing me a side that makes me believe in the possibility of a true connection. But as time goes on, it’s like a switch flips, and suddenly, they’re no longer the person I thought they were. The transformation happens so swiftly and so completely that it feels like a betrayal. One day, everything seems perfect, and the next, I’m left grappling with someone who’s changed overnight.

It’s as though these men wear masks, carefully crafted to win me over, only to discard them once they’ve achieved their goal. The facade falls away, revealing a reality that’s often disappointing and disheartening. I’ve come to expect that this pattern will repeat itself because it always has. Each time, my trust and hope are eroded, and it becomes harder to believe that someone can truly be genuine.

I’ve reached a point where my heart simply can’t handle any more of this emotional turbulence. The pain of investing my emotions into someone who ends up disappointing me is too much to bear. The cycle of hope and heartbreak has left me exhausted and wary. I’m trying to shield myself from further damage, to protect my heart from the predictable cycle of rising expectations followed by crushing disillusionment. The idea of putting myself through that kind of emotional rollercoaster again feels unbearable. So, I shut down, convinced that avoiding love is the best way to preserve my peace and prevent further pain.

You keep on denying Who you are and how you're feeling Baby, we're not buying Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (Oh, no) Face it like a grown-up When ya gonna own up That you got, got, got it bad?

"Y/N, It’s becoming impossible for anyone who knows you to ignore the signs. Your reactions when he’s near, the way you talk about him—it all points to something deeper than just friendship or admiration. You might be trying to downplay it or act like it’s not a big deal, but everyone can see it. We all notice how you light up when he’s mentioned or how you subtly seek out opportunities to be around him.

"Well why don't you go out with him? Since you notice every small detail about him."

You’re not fooling anyone with your attempts to mask your feelings. The way you talk about him, how your mood shifts when he’s mentioned—these are all clear indicators that your feelings for Luke run deeper than you’re willing to admit. It’s written all over your face and in your actions. It’s not just a small crush or a fleeting interest; it’s something more significant, something you’re clearly struggling to acknowledge.

So why keep pretending? It’s okay to have feelings for someone, especially someone like Luke. The sooner you accept and embrace your feelings, the easier it will be to figure out what to do next. Hiding behind this facade of indifference only makes it harder for you to deal with the truth." "Taylor, I cannot keep having this convosation with you, it's getting on my nerves, please just drop it." I'm never falling in love, with anyone.

(Shoo, shoo-doo, doo-doo) No chance, no way I won't say it, no, no Give up, give in Check the grin, you're in love This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love You're doin' flips (Ooh-ooh) Read our lips, you're in love

The idea of opening myself up to another relationship feels like an invitation to endure more pain. The thought of investing my emotions again, only to face the inevitable disappointment, is almost too overwhelming to consider. My heart has reached its limit; it feels battered and fragile from past letdowns. The fear of another heartbreak is paralysing, making it hard to even entertain the idea of risking my emotional well-being once more.

I want to protect myself from the cycle of hope and disillusionment that has characterised my past experiences with love. The emotional toll has been significant, and I’m desperately trying to shield myself from further damage. The prospect of enduring another emotional upheaval is daunting, and my heart simply can’t handle the strain of another potential letdown. "Y/N, I know you don't like talking about it, but I csn't help it. Why csn't you see it? We’ve all see how you blush every single time you talk about Luke. It’s not just a subtle thing—your cheeks practically light up, and there’s this undeniable warmth in your voice. It’s impossible to ignore the way your eyes sparkle when his name comes up or how your entire demeanour shifts to something more animated and bright.

And let’s not forget how you watch him during mealtimes. It’s like you’re drawn to him in a way that’s hard to miss. You’re always glancing over at him, whether he’s chatting with the others, helping out with the food, or just enjoying a moment with his friends. You might think you’re being discreet, but it’s so obvious to everyone around. The way you steal glances and the way your gaze lingers just a little too long—these aren’t things you can easily brush off.

Trying to deny your feelings for Luke doesn’t change the reality of the situation. Your reactions and behaviour make it clear to all of us what you’re trying to ignore. We see through the act of nonchalance you’re putting on. It’s not just a case of mild interest; it’s something deeper. We can tell that you’re emotionally invested, even if you’re not ready to admit it to yourself.

It’s time to face the truth about your emotions. The more you try to suppress or deny them, the more obvious it becomes to everyone around you. There’s no need to hide or pretend anymore."

Taylor says before walking off.

I keep convincing myself that nothing will come of this, and that denying my feelings will make it all go away. I’m certain that nothing will happen between us, and so I refuse to acknowledge my true emotions.

Despite my best efforts to conceal my feelings, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them. I try to pretend otherwise, but my actions and reactions betray me. Deep down, I think I’m in love, but I can’t bring myself to say it.

You're way off base (Shoo-doo, shoo-doo) I won't say it (She won't say it, no) Get off my case (Sha-da, sha-da) I won't say it (Ooh-ooh-ooh)

I’m adamant about not admitting my feelings. It’s a protective mechanism to avoid vulnerability and potential heartache. I want to be left alone to keep my emotions private.

Girl, go be proud It's okay, you're in love

Admitting my feelings would mean exposing myself to the possibility of heartache, and I’m not ready to take that risk. The emotional turmoil that follows when feelings aren’t reciprocated, or when they lead to disappointment, is something I’m determined to avoid. I’ve learned from past experiences that letting my guard down can lead to deep, sometimes overwhelming pain. By keeping my feelings to myself, I maintain a sense of control and safety, shielding my heart from potential harm.

I want to be left alone to keep my emotions private because it feels like the only way to maintain my emotional stability. Sharing my feelings would mean inviting scrutiny and potentially having to navigate the complexities of another person’s reactions and responses. It’s easier to keep everything internal, to process my emotions in solitude where I can control the narrative and avoid the unpredictability of others' reactions.

This private handling of my emotions is a means of self-preservation. It’s my way of creating a barrier between myself and the risk of emotional pain. The prospect of vulnerability, of exposing my inner thoughts and feelings, is daunting and unsettling. So, I prefer to keep my emotions hidden, managing them in the confines of my own mind where I can protect myself from the uncertainty and potential hurt that comes with opening up to others.

However, Taylor did not agree with my choices.

"Listen, Y/N, it’s really important for you to understand something: it’s completely okay to embrace your feelings. Love, as complicated and intimidating as it can be, is not something to be ashamed of or to hide from.

You deserve to be happy. If you have feelings for Luke, acknowledging them doesn’t make you weak or foolish—it makes you human.

There’s no shame in being vulnerable; it’s a sign of strength and courage. It’s a step towards allowing yourself to experience love and all the happiness that can come with it.

Hiding from your feelings or pretending they don’t exist only prolongs the emotional struggle and prevents you from fully engaging with the positive aspects of life."

"Yeah, whatever Tay, I'll see you later."

She raises her eyes at me, noticing I don't tell her to shut up about the topic.

At least, out loud I won't say I'm in love

It feels ridiculous to admit that I might be in love. I’ve convinced myself that I don’t need a man to be happy and that I’m fine on my own. Declaring my feelings feels like an invitation to heartbreak, something I’ve vowed to avoid.

I do have feelings for Luke. I’ve come to realise that I am in love with him, but I can't bring myself to openly acknowledge it. I’ll keep these emotions to myself, hidden away where I can manage them privately.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll tell him?

Doubt it.

#luke castellan #pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke pjo #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #pjo series #hercules #i wont say it

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