#but it still felt so good to see it being so casual

[melminli]

Ddakji Man

summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader

word count: 1,5k

contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh

"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"

You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.

Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"

You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.

"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."

You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to say goodbye to your friends and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.

So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.

A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.

"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"

You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.

The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."

Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."

This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it." 

Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."

"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"

You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"

This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."

When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"

"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"

You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.

The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.

And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.

[enhaniki-san]

touché - reader x niki ｡𖦹°‧

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, etc.

part two: click here

niki has a way of quietly taking up space in your mind. you didn’t know when it started but to you, he just stood out without being so loud or seeking attention in your shared friend group.

lately, you noticed that whenever you glanced in his direction, you would found him already looking at you. perhaps he was just looking around the room, and you caught him mid-gaze but still, it's happening too often to ignore.

you began to feel self-conscious. thinking that niki might assume that you're always staring at him.

and without realizing it, you found yourself influenced by his style. you bought caps similar to one he always wore, you started layering necklaces, and even swapped your usual bag for a stylish crossbody one like his.

your eyes instinctively searched for him. you scanned the room and when you didn’t spot him, you sighed, frustrated with your own behavior. and as you turned around, you bumped into someone’s chest.

"woah..." came a familiar voice. niki's hands gently steadied your arms.

"ow..." you mumbled, holding your nose, which throbbed from the impact. "sorry..."

"you good?" he asked, tone light with a hint of concern. and without waiting for an answer, he smoothly guided you towards the kitchen.

you nodded, laughing softly while rubbing your nose. "yeah, i’m good. just clumsy, i guess."

niki laughed too, leaning casually opposite of you against the counter as you leaned against the kitchen sink.

he had been thinking about this. getting you alone and away from the group. not that it was a big deal or anything, but he's been feeling you and noticing you more lately. it wasn’t something he planned exactly but now that you're here, just the two of you, it felt like a good chance.

he just have to act normal.

"so… i've been seeing you here a lot lately." he said, crossing his arms.

you nodded, feeling a little awkward under his stare. "yea- yeah, i guess i have been pretty social these days."

"you've been dressing differently too." niki pointed out, his eyes flicking briefly to your cap and necklaces.

your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks burned in his sudden comment. "oh, uh… just trying something new." you laughed nervously.

"it suits you." he said with a smirk. as if he knows exactly who you dresses like.

trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat as you reached for a jar of jam on the counter. you scooped a small spoonful into your mouth.

niki gestured for the jar as you ate. without thinking, you handed it over, still talking about something trivial.

and niki didn’t bother getting a new spoon. he dipped the one you just used, taking a bite while you're yapping. he's looking at you with an intensity, making your words gone.

"you were saying?" he prompted, lips curving into a mischievous grin as he held the spoon in his mouth.

you stammered. completely forgetting your train of thought.

niki chuckled at your reaction. he started to walk towards you. tossing the spoon into the sink with a casual flick of his wrist. he took a step closer making you lean back against the sink while your heart beats so fast in your chest.

still keeping his eyes on you, he reached and turned your cap backwards, his fingers brushing against your hair.

"there. much better." he smiled with a low and teasing voice.

niki looked in your eyes for a while, smiling. he tilted his head and very slowly, he leaned in. your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the moment when niki placed a kiss on your lips.

he pulled back slightly and saw the dazed look on your face, a flicker of amusement crossed his lips. "not enough?" he asked you in his mind.

niki held your face gently. this time he leaned in again with more urgency. deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. you could taste the sweetness of the jam on his mouth as the kiss grew hungrier.

his hands began to roam. they slid from your neck down your back and to your waist. and with a firm and gentle grip, he pulled your body closer to his. niki pressed his body against yours harder each kiss.

the heat between you was overwhelming, making you let out a soft gasp and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a skill that made your knees weak.

you can feel his smirk against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.

the sound of someone shouting his name from another room shattered the moment. both of you froze, your lips parting with an audible sound.

niki pressed his forehead against yours. his breathing ragged but gave you another kiss.

"should i deal with him or should we get out of here?"

"uhh… deal with him?"

niki smiled and chuckled. he was expecting you say otherwise but anyway, he gave you another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. "wait, i'll be right back."

you exhaled shakily when he left. a wide grin spreading across your face like an idiot. you couldn’t believe what just happened.

you stayed frozen in place, leaning against the sink, your fingers brushing over your tingling lips as if to confirm it wasn’t a dream.

the warmth of his touch and the taste of the jam still lingered, making it impossible to focus on anything else. you kept replaying the moment over and over in your mind.

you can hear the distant hum of conversations from the other room. niki returned, his presence filling the room like it always did. "miss me?" he asked casually, leaning against the counter once more as if nothing had happened.

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the heat rushing to your cheeks. "you were gone for, like, five minutes."

niki smirked, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. "felt longer."

you bit your lip, looking down to avoid his piercing stare but he wasn’t about to let you escape so easily.

"so..." he started, stepping closer once again. "why do I always catch you looking at me but never saying anything?"

"but i don't." you said, searching for a defense but coming up blank.

niki leaned in, his hands casually rested on the edge of the sink on either side of you, effectively trapping you in place. "it's okay, though." he murmured, his voice soft but teasing. "i like it. it’s cute."

your breath hitched as his face hovered inches from yours, his proximity making it impossible to think straight. "you sure you're not imagining things?" you managed to ask, though your voice wavered.

"oh?" niki smirked at your comments. totally amused that you're still denying it. "am I?"

you opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he leaned even closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear.

"you're not very good at hiding it, you know,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. niki's look was steady and full of confidence.

"and what about you?" you asked him. surprising yourself with your boldness. "you're not exactly subtle either."

niki chuckled softly. "touché."

Before he could say more, the sound of someone walking toward the kitchen interrupted the moment. niki straightened himself. his hands falling back to his sides though his eyes never left yours.

"we're not done here." he said quietly, grinning.

niki then casually greeted the person entering the kitchen as if nothing happened.

a/n: hello read part two here

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

[cosmicalily]

"baby, you can have it" - a jeongin oneshot by @cosmicalily

"an inch away from more than just friends, touch me, baby, put your lips on mine." - 'naked in manhattan' by chappell roan

author's note: another situation where i normally gatekeep the fuck out of my queer anthems (in the context of writing non-wlw fics for them), but the whole 'an inch away from more than just friends' felt SO relevant in the context of this oneshot. go stream 'the rise and fall of a midwest princess'. go listen to 'casual' and cry. it's good for you!

warnings: nudity, suggestive (the most that occurs is a makeout, nothing more)

You hadn't been able to stop yourself.

Why couldn't you have just remained a normal friend, his best friend?

Why were you spending hours, analysing the simplest things that he did, things that made your heart flutter, scream, and slingshot all the way to the moon and back? Spin around Saturn, melt through the heat of the sun and settle back in your chest, a mess of thoughts and emotions, innocent and otherwise.

The way he ate the strawberry liquorice he loved so much; his pink tongue pointed and sticking out occasionally to brush his lower lip as he savoured the candy.

The way he'd drag you home with him almost each night after school, hand you a cherry cola, and you'd spend hours playing video games and talking and laughing. Sometimes, Jisung would join you, but those evenings you got Jeongin all to yourself were something you treasured. And sometimes, those nights would end with more than just you kissing him on the cheek goodbye. Some mornings, you’d wake up, sprawled across his chest, the ghost of his lips on your neck, and the aching feeling of missing something. The feeling that even if he held your hand all the way to school, where you’d enter class together and apologise in unison for being late, he could slip away oh so easily.

The way he had made a habit of sketching little stars in a blue ballpoint pen around the few freckles that dotted your arm.

You looked down at your skin. There were still faded sketches dotting your arm, blue ink melting into your skin. Ghosts of the drawings he’d done yesterday; slowly disappearing but still very much so there.

Of course there were other girls. Girls who’d message him day after day, ask for his Snapchat, stick post-it notes onto his locker and cling to his arm in the hallway.

He tried not to pay too much attention to them; the occasional smile and ‘hey’, not to be rude, not to be unkind, but never responding to their affection, to their endless babble.

Jeongin was made to be a high school crush. He had bleached hair with the slightest hint of pink to it, sharp, fox-like features, contrasting wildly with his soft, dimpled cheeks, frequently flushed with a peach tinge.

You sometimes wondered why he gave you the time of day. Jeongin, although he wasn’t necessarily the most popular guy, was known across your grade and even the years above. He was older than almost everyone in the year level; an early birthday had originally granted him a move up to twelfth grade, but he’d opted against it. His friends were all in the year above, and whilst he still sometimes sat with them at break times, he’d decided to go for you.

“He hardly sits with us anymore,” Jisung mumbled to you, after Jeongin had passed out on the couch, head in your lap, arms around your waist. 

“I know. I keep asking him why. He says he sees you guys enough.”

Jisung looked down at Jeongin’s babyish expression as he slept, face pressed against your stomach. “Or he’s in love with you,” Jisung had reasoned, ruffling your hair and giving Jeongin’s arm a pinch before leaving.

You’d looked down at the pile of Jeongin lying before you; sleepy, clingy and oh so angelic. His features looked softer in the dim light, and his eyelashes fluttered every few seconds.

Every soft breath against your stomach made your heart swell, and you wished, just for a moment, that he’d say it out loud. Admit to it. 

There were times where you were almost certain. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent. Catching him staring at you from your vanity mirror as you did your eyeliner, his hands slipping around your waist as you sat on the bathroom counter bleaching his hair, the soft kisses to your cheek that he’d offer you when you were crying.

That wasn’t platonic, was it? It couldn’t be.

You looked down at your arms, admiring the faded stars again. There was one in particular, a little larger than the rest. It wasn’t really a star anymore. His hand must have slipped. You craned your neck a little closer, getting a better look at the smudge of blue ink.

A heart.

You breathed out a little, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered open.

You stroked his hair softly, hoping he’d fall back asleep, but he sat up, looking into your eyes. 

You felt so overwhelmed by him, but in the most beautiful way possible. By his sparkling eyes and his sweet face, the soft scent of his skin, and finally,

His lips on yours.

The way they moved in harmony, the way his tongue slipped in gently, not dominating your mouth, but exploring it. Curiously, like he wanted to get to know the parts of you that he hadn’t been able to. The parts that exceeded the confines of platonic love.

His hands were on your cheeks, your shoulders, your hips, your waist, gentle, fluid movements that sent shivers down your spine. There was a calm desperation about his actions, a need to search for more, to find another patch of skin he hadn’t seen or ran his fingers across yet. 

And when the two of you broke apart in a daze, chests heaving, sweat glossing over your skin, he hooked his fingers through the straps of your camisole, looking at you intently and giving you a moment to protest. When you nodded eagerly, he pulled off your tank top with one movement, one hand on the fabric, the other smoothing your hair to avoid it getting tangled. But once it was off, he didn’t grope or squeeze or touch.

Not that he would've without making sure you wanted it, even if he felt sure. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent wasn't one hundred, after all. He wanted you to be sure, because he was sure. And he was sure as hell that he didn't want to hurt you, not when he had you like this.

Not when you struggled to keep your lovedrunk eyes open, exhaustion creeping through your veins.

So he laid your body down to rest on the sofa, chest-down, and pulled a blue-ink ballpoint pen from his back pocket.

“That tickles,” you giggled, squirming a little as Jeongin settled himself behind you and began drawing on your bare skin.

“I wanna give you all the stars, baby,” he mumbled, sketching. His fingers were hot but the metal tip of the pen was cool on your back. The patterns he traced and the galaxies he formed were soothing and repetitive, and you felt yourself drifting off.

And when you woke up, he was beside you, limbs wrapped around yours, lips pressed against your neck.

A faded imprint of the ink stars on your arms stamped onto his skin.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx - comment, dm or send an ask to be added!

[cheetabites]

☆彡 nasty pt 2 ˳༄꠶

character: park gyeong seok (player 246)

˳༄꠶ summary: six sfw and nsfw general relationship headcannons - this is regarding how his character would act outside of the games

sfw headcannons

★ originally, when you’d first gotten into a relationship with him he wasn’t as open. he felt as if he was a burden to you because of his inability to pay back the debt he owed from the medical bills. and ultimately, his inability to communicate due to his embarrassment and shame caused frustration on your part, but you’d later had gotten him to open up and tell you what was wrong

★ his love language is quality time and words of affirmation; he loves doing casual activities with you, like going for a walk in the park, going out shopping or for a movie, and cuddling with you at home. as for words of affirmation, he’d be the one to offer unexpected compliments or comfort when you feel insecure - but he enjoys it just as much when you decide to return the favor

★ him and his daughter still honor and visit his previous wife - although she passed away - and he really enjoys that you respect that fact; sometimes when you’re around and up for it, they’d include you in activities like switching out her flowers or when they’d just stay and update her on the things that’ve been happening

★ he’s not really a pet name person, so the only title he’d ever really refer to you by would be ‘jagiya’ - although if you two ever got married he would love referring you as his wife

★ mr gyeong seok is not apart of the cheating culture that is in korea; he finds it useless and a threat to his daughter and his sexual health, so you don’t have to worry about him every leaving you. if you ever broke up it would be mostly be out of mutual interest and concern

★ he’s an old fashioned man for sure; he’d always open doors for you, pay for dinner, secretly purchase items he’d see you eye whenever you’d go out together - he basically worships the ground you walk on. he’s also big on boundaries, both yours and his

nsfw headcannons

★ as i said before, this man is a switch. he loves both domming and subbing for his partner but it usually depends on what you want and how he’s feeling; if he’s domming he’s obviously a soft dom and while subbing, he makes sure to put on his good boy persona for you

★ he’s not really one for quickies unless he’s really pent up; he can’t really pick out the pleasure from it because having to rush really waters down the intimacy, which is something he needs to get off

★ voyerism is something that also enters the bedroom from time to time (all consensual.) he really likes watching you get yourself off, especially when you’re ‘unaware’ of him watching

★ when you both get intimate there’s usually no background noise / music. hearing you pant, whine or praise him while he’s fucking you is so hot for him

★ this man is all for body worship as well. he’d spend almost twenty minutes or so just kissing and rubbing your androgynous zones to get you ready for him; but god does it get you frustrated. you had to get on top a few times because you couldn’t stand how he was teasing you

★ he absolutely will put a baby in you once na-yeon gets better though, just be aware of that. and because he actually has children, he doesn’t really feel comfortable being called daddy when you have sex - you can always use other pet names though!

the end! i hope you enjoyed :D

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 23 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

“What’s with this traffic jam? It’s really backed up.” Jinwoo asked, his voice breaking the lull as he drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. As the car inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace, he muttered something about taking the subway, eyes scanning the congested road ahead, a faint crease of irritation forming on his brow.

You glanced up from your musings, your elbow propped on the car door, chin resting in your palm. Your eyes were fixed on the distance, far past the endless rows of brake lights ahead—almost indifferent, as if the raving engines and honking vehicles just outside were nothing more than background noise.

“Maybe a gate popped up in the middle of the road?”

Jinwoo turned his head to you, giving you an incredulous look. His sharp stare lingered until you caught it out of the corner of your eye, remaining unfazed. “What?”

Before Jinwoo could respond, his phone buzzed to life, the name on the screen flashed: Chairman Go Gun-hee.. He answered, listened intently to the voice on the other end, and replied as necessary. The situation was, in fact, just as you had guessed—a gate had indeed materialized, right in the middle of the highway too, hence the massive traffic disruption.

After the call ended, Jinwoo turned back to you with a similar expression as before. The hint of amused resignation was new though.

“What?” you repeated, your voice carrying that deliberately lackluster touch of feigning innocence.

This time, instead of being interrupted in a timely-good manner, his silence was broken by a soft chuckle as he leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, as did the uptilt of his lips, despite the urgency of the situation.

After a beat, that easy smile was directed towards you. “You gonna come with?”

You tilted your head slightly, mimicking his casual demeanor but with an air of mockery that was all your own. “Depends. Let’s see what the system has to say.”

“So, not a no?” Jinwoo’s tone took a turn as he leaned closer, leaving no other way for you but to meet his eyes, his grin just as daring.

Perhaps reflex played a role when you raised your hand and planted it against his face before he could get too close, gently pushing him back with just enough pressure to send a clear message: Don’t push your luck. Jinwoo showed little resistance, the twinkle of mirth in the backdrop of grey peeking between your fingers unmistakable.

You dismissed how you could distinctly feel his mouth move as he played along with your antics. How the soft brushes of lips felt on the border of your palm and wrist, teetering so close to where one could feel vital signs through the skin.

“Shut up,” you grinned back, and the following vibrations on your hand, mimicking the act of chuckling, told you more than enough.

It was good to know that he was now comfortable enough around you to be like this.

“I’ll do a quick detour for our emergency preparation,” you added, finally pulling your hand back and breaking eye contact. Your gaze shifted out the window as if searching for something unseen. “I have a feeling it’s going to rain.”

Jinwoo raised a brow, stealing a glance at the sky through the windshield. The sun shone unobstructed, the horizon was clear, with no sign of rain clouds in sight. Still, he’d learned by now that your ‘feelings’ were rarely wrong.

Cryptic words and double meanings, he just had to figure them out—figure you out.

The game both of you had been playing since the very start.

How thrilling.

Jinwoo hummed, opting for another question, though it was one he already had a pretty good guess on the answer. His smile never left. “How many backups have you planned, really?”

“A lot.” —a simplistic answer that was just so you, flashing him a sweet smile of your own.

With that, your form began to shimmer, your edges dissolving into myriads of lights, the chimes of your butterflies filling the air.

Through the mirror of his iris, the beautiful fragments swirled. Jinwoo closed his eyes briefly as the luminous insects flitted past his face, bringing forth passing warmth against the skin.

“You go on ahead,”

When he opened them again, only a single butterfly remained where you once sat, its iridescent wings fluttering softly. It went to perch on his instinctively half-outstretched hand, and Jinwoo brought it closer, feeling the faint, ticklish brush of its wings on his lips.

I’ll find my way to you.

The butterfly dissolved into nothingness, yet he knew it was keeping him company, always, despite its lack of visibility.

He was not alone, not anymore.

Jinwoo leaned back in his seat, raking a hand through his hair as the corner of his mouth curved into a grin, lingering all the way as he made his way to the gate’s location.

If he had truly looked at himself in the rearview mirror at this moment, would the faint color of his cheeks and the creeping warmth had only been the effect of the rosy-hued sky and the golden glow of the setting sun?

Jinwoo muttered under his breath, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his every little action then.

“What a difficult woman.”

---

Jinwoo stood amidst the wild greens of the foliage; the air as ominous as ever if not more. The oppressive heat and humidity were immediately followed by the torrential downpour. The thick jungle surrounding him, water cascading down the leaves and pooling into muddy streams, and the dense magical energy crackling in the air all pointed to one thing.

“You know…” Jinwoo said to no one, his tone as flat as it was dry, despite him literally soaked from head to toe. “However I see it, this feels like a red gate.”

“I told you so,” your voice rang out light, and Jinwoo looked up to see you hovering in the air, donning your usual raid ensemble, your form bathed in faint iridescent white glow. The rain parted around you and the butterflies flitted, refracting light in a way that made Jinwoo feel like he was witnessing a scene from one of those vibrant stained-glass windows.

Divine—that word again.

Soft chimes mixing harmoniously with the rhythm of harsh pitter-patter. Despite his enhanced physique, the falling rain still dug uncomfortably into his skin, under the layer of wet fabric. But even so, he couldn’t look away.

As for you, for a moment, you entertained the idea of looking after a wet cat.

With a subtle motion of your hand, Jinwoo suddenly found himself enveloped in the same translucent glow and phantom warmth. The raindrops now bounced and slid off him harmlessly, though the protective barrier couldn’t undo the soaked clothes below.

“You’re a little late, don’t you think?” Jinwoo quipped, though there was no bite to his words.

Yeah—a sopping wet, fussy black cat.

“You seem fine enough,” you quipped back, starting to make your descent. “I’ll help you dry off once we’re out—shit!”

The next second, the world seemed to blur as the storm surged louder in your eardrums—a brief flicker caught Jinwoo’s attention before his instincts kicked in.

Time seemed to slow after—closer than either of you expected, stealing the air from your lungs, senses overwhelmed by proximity’s warmth. Dimly, you felt familiar, sturdy arms supporting you, and the scent of damp earth mixed with something distinctly him.

Déjà vu—and the disconcert of living through a cliché.

Chaotic fluttering, the butterflies’ notes twisted into a cacophony of delight, increasing in volume alongside heavy rain and thunder. Yet, all seem to blend into the background of mingling breaths, inches apart.

None spoke, eyes locked with another in a moment that felt stretched too long and too short all at once. Light danced in between, shadows fleeting across each other’s features.

Somewhere, amidst the cold shower and warm softness in his hold, Jinwoo felt a strange awareness settle within each heartbeat.

And then, the moment broke. The chimes quieted, and everything faded into the storm’s veil once more.

---

[A hunter is born to hunt.]

“So,” Jinwoo started, attention flicking between you and the battle up ahead. “you can teleport from outside now?” Intrigue flashed in his eyes, though his tone retained its usual calmness.

“…”

“(Name)?”

“…Yeah,” you finally replied. Distracted was an understatement of the nearly two decades you’d been thrown into this world. “The recent ascension automatically leveled up some skills. My teleportation works the same as before, but now it’s more… precise.”

“Precise?” Jinwoo’s brow arched in question.

“Mm-hmm. Visualizing the destination is no longer enough; I need to know the place like the back of my hand.” Your eyes followed a purple butterfly fluttering past his shoulders. “Being manually taxing is a recurring drawback to my powers, so I’m not too surprised. The good thing that came out of this is that there are less restrictions. Dungeons are basically another world altogether, but now I can go in and out even after the gates closed, granted I still have memory of the place and that nothing unusual happened. Still researching on that.”

“Bless my children, since I still need an ‘anchor’ for the first travel.” The butterfly joined the fray. “Under normal circumstances, they can travel on their own. But for traversing between realms? In case they’re not strong enough to withstand the force, they need to attach to someone who can cross to the other side. Once inside, that child can send me the specific ‘data’ via telepathy—the area’s distinct wavelength, for example.”

You made a light sweeping motion with your hand. “And voilà.”

A hunter’s foe isn’t limited to monsters.

Jinwoo hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield. He watched his soldiers press forward; their footwork precise even on the rain-slick, muddy ground. The flitting butterflies wove among them as usual, shimmering beacons boosting any soldier in close range and playing with their food the enemies. What was unusual was the flashes of forms far too humanlike to be his shadows.

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, studying the contrasting figures. Their movements were seamless, as if rehearsed, covering each other’s blind spots. As chaotic as these fights could get, there was an unmistakable rhythm to them. A Danse Macabre brought to life.

“They can fight too?” Jinwoo asked, his voice tinged with slight awe.

Following his line of sight, you smiled faintly. “Yes. At first, it was the adults’ initiative. I’m fine with them as they are, but my darlings wanted to make the most of it now that they can maintain corporeal forms without the hassle of constantly using hallucinations.” You nodded toward the entities in question. “Their skills heavily depend on what I’m capable of myself, since they weren’t initially designed for direct combat, but…” You tilted your head toward the nearest skirmish. “What can I say? Adaptation is one of our mottos.”

[A hunter must take care not to become the hunted.]

Jinwoo followed your gesture and saw Igris, his long sword cleaving through enemies with practiced ease. Covering his back stood a familiar elegant figure, crimson strands in a braid and wielding dual rapiers. She was as pristinely suited as the first time she introduced herself. The tailcoat, patterned like her wings, followed her movements fluidly, making her seem like she was dancing.

Hup!

Light on her feet, she launched herself in the air and struck. The thrust precise and deep despite how delicately thin the blade looked, evident by the fountains of blood erupting from her staggering victims before Igris followed up with swift decapitations. With how calm she looked at times, her eyes were another level of intense, like an undying flame.

She landed with a bow and—did the raining blood just turn into showering petals?!

“You’ve already met Red,” you said casually, though Jinwoo detected a hint of pride. “My right hand.”

Gaze lingering on the pair, Jinwoo was unsure what was more baffling: the eerie theatrics or how seamlessly Red fought alongside Igris without a single word exchanged.

His attention shifted to another figure, starkly different in demeanor and a paler complexion.

On top of her head were triangular-shaped ears blending into straight snowy-white locks. The color contrasted sharply against the battlefield’s murky tones, as did her pale blue eyes. Seemingly a staple to your children who gained a more tangible form, the black and white attire she wore was adorned with fluffs from neck to boots.

The situation can always reverse,

“That’s Blanche.” You chuckled softly seeing the girl reflexively nuzzle into her thick scarf, only for droopy eyes to narrow, clearly displeased with the wetness clinging to her usual comfort. Even her long fluffy tail wasn’t spared, slumping dejectedly in response.

Peeking out from the tufts of her of sleeves were clawed hands of clear ice, at least twice a normal sized hand. That same hand tore straight through an adversary’s chest. As the beast dangled from her grip, she flicked them off with ease to swipe at another incoming attackers.

What was interesting to Jinwoo was how the minion sent flying looked stiff. Only when Tank caught them with his mouth did Jinwoo have his answer. The chilling crunch when the shadow munched on them, how pieces of the body cracked like glass and fell off with no sign of the usual dripping warm liquid, suggested that they were frozen solid. It was a frigid carnage.

“She’s dozing off.” Jinwoo noted dryly as Blanche retracted her claws and leaned onto the massive ice bear, sinking into his wispy black fur.

“Leave my baby alone. It’s nearing her hibernation hour anyway.” You cooed in the pair’s direction, seeing that Tank decided to not disturb Blanche’s nap and just sat there, munching away at the frozen enemies she left behind.

“And when exactly is that?”

“Almost all the time.”

Jinwoo didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or sigh at you.

“You’re spoiling her.”

“Blanche always got her job done before going to sleep, so I see no problem.” You trailed off.

[And it’s the mark of the first-rate hunter to avoid becoming complacent.]

Jinwoo chose not to comment further. He followed your wandering eyes toward a blonde figure next. Hair tied in ponytail, she wielded a massive shield with an ease that belied its size, using it to batter enemies in a manner that seemed more recreational than necessary.

“There are two of them now.” Jinwoo deadpanned.

True to his words, it was quite a sight.

Iron was, unsurprisingly, doing what Iron did best: slamming down the blunt end of his battle axe on what appeared to be an enemy, a pretty much dead one. The blonde woman, with eyes resembling the sun, mimicked his actions with her shield and an almost childlike glee. The two were taking turns in smashing the unfortunate foe until it was simply unrecognizable.

“That’s Sol,” you said, sweatdropping. “She’s, well, energetic.”

Jinwoo sighed, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“I can see that.”

“…Sol’s a good child.” You continued with a wry smile. “Just a curious spirit most of the time.”

“Right. And she follows Iron around because…?”

“She finds him amusing.”

“That sounds even worse somehow.”

You could only offer a helpless shrug.

The next child Jinwoo noticed was perched comfortably on Tusk’s shoulder, nonchalantly swinging her legs and humming a tune. Turquoise eyes glowed against dark bronze canvas, various runes of the same bluish-green circling her, and a tome floated by her side. Her hair was a striking red, blue, and the occasional hints of white and purple, shifting hues with every movement like a living aurora. Her ears were long and the tips pointed, Jinwoo noted.

Whether you hunt tens, or even hundreds, of monsters,

“That’s Neonie.” you introduced. “Abilitiy-wise, think of her as a living magical artifact.”

Each motion of the her fingers brought forth circles of magic, materializing across the battlefield. Glittering mist flowed out, a blanket of cloud around the High Orc Shaman and magic unit below, amplifying spells’ firepower, restoring mana, and decreasing casting cooldowns in a near constant cycle. Some smaller magic circles stationed strategically around the fog-affected areas automatically shot projectiles to melee foes closing in on the mages.

Jinwoo was squinting at this point. Mist aside, the output of spells back-to-back were blinding enough.

“Can we adjust the brightness?”

“Sure! When you managed to control your first instinct to not glare at my sorceress every time you see her, we’ll talk.”

“Huh?”

“Oh please, I saw how your face scrunched up seconds ago. I already made Baruka’s remains a stat boost for your dagger, give the guy a break.”

You rolled your eyes, though the twitch on your lips betrayed you when he made a face again.

A strong gust of wind swept past, ruffling your hairs and prompting you and Jinwoo to glance upward. Kaisel soared overhead, his massive wings stretching over the rain-drenched jungle below, cutting through the winds. Trailing close behind was what seemed like a flurry of butterflies in a weird formation, a blur of royal blue.

You whistled and the cluster halted in its flight, only then did Jinwoo could get a proper look at the silhouette. The most attention-grabbing feature was the pair of wings, flapping in brief intermissions to keep the bearer afloat. They weren’t the delicate blue and black structures patterned on her uniform; instead, there were layers of translucent feathers, matching the end of her trench coat. She had rich blue eyes; dark brown strands framed her face in a bun.

[You must hunt ceaselessly.]

“Jinwoo, meet Gale.” The aforementioned bowed to Jinwoo. “The best flyer of my butterflies.”

“And also,” Jinwoo barely had time to process this before his sharp ears caught a distinct metallic clack from above. His gaze snapped back to Gale—was that a minigun?!

“Our aerial support—”

“Everyone duck!”

The assault began, the shots ripped through the ranks of enemies below. Jinwoo’s caught another detail then: like the briefest projection, the feathers spread wide dispersed light in a way that momentarily resembled the intricate patterns of a butterfly. They flared, and from the 'eyes', beams of light shot downward, incinerating adversaries that got caught in its line, leaving charred remnants in her wake.

As the dust began to settle, Jinwoo quickly noted that his soldiers and your children remained unharmed, courtesy of Tusk’s and Neonie’s protective barrier that had shielded the allied forces nearest to the blasts. Iron and Sol too, raised their shield to protect the others nearest to them.

“…and sniper—”

BOOM!

Yeah, no.

The resulting shockwave left Jinwoo’s hair slightly disheveled, and he noted with some amusement that yours wasn’t spared either.

That was a fucking missile.

Again, none of his shadows nor your butterflies had been harmed. Gale’s actions might seem reckless, but, as far-fetched as it sounded, the attacks were isolated in a way, suggesting some level of careful handling and not just reckless abandon.

“I…” You looked dumbfounded if anything, mouth parting a little bit, and Jinwoo found it cute. At least that reaction was enough of a confirmation for him: you didn’t, in fact, planned that, not to this degree at the very least. Jinwoo reckoned Gale took some liberties, and it was just good bad timing on your part. “…I’ll speak to Gale on toning it down.”

“Good call.” Jinwoo chuckled.

You cleared your throat, a strange look of avoidance passed through your expression. “Well, that’s all of them that are present anyway”.

Even when you said that, Jinwoo’s gaze drifted past you, landing on the peculiar silver-haired figure standing still under the rain. She seemed wholly engrossed in her own world, her face tilted upward to let the water trail over her features. Her expression painstakingly crafted to exude pensiveness, it was as if she were playing out a dramatic scene in some high-budget movie—you know, where a character’s thoughts were spoken aloud by outside voice? Minus the pile of corpses beneath her heels of course.

“What is she doing?” Jinwoo finally asked, his tone edged with skepticism, finding it very hard not to be openly judgmental this time. Your lips twitched, unsure whether to laugh away the embarrassment like a maniac or dig yourself a hole and simply die with it.

[As that unknown presence does too.]

The King has no plan to stop his hunt—"Ouch!”

The woman in question abruptly yelped in pain and doubled over. Her hands flying to the top of her head where an angry red bump had formed. Her face scrunched up into a teary expression as yellowish-orange orbs turned to the crimson-haired figure now looming over her.

“What in Mother’s name was that for, Sist-AH! Ow…” Trick’s indignant protest was cut short as another sharp smack landed squarely on her head, resulting comically in a bump on the previous bump. Red stared down at her younger sibling, arms crossed, twin rapiers momentarily sheathed by her hips.

“Stop monologuing.” Despite how flatly the delivery was, each word was emphasized with a progressively terrifying glare that could have frozen a lesser soul.

Poor Trick got the heebie-jeebies. The adult silver butterfly pouted and whined, still clutching her head as she pointed to the air where intricate golden-white screen glitched to life. “They started it!”

[ :D ]

The red butterfly could care less.

“Get. To. Work,” With one last warning look, Red turned her back without waiting for a response. She strode back toward Igris, who had paused mid-swing to glance in her direction. The shadow knight tilted his head slightly, a silent inquiry.

Red’s expression softened in an instant, throwing her rapier to stab the battered magical beast, formerly twitching hand about to grab the shadow knight’s leg while he was distracted, now laid as limp as it was dead. “I’m alright, Sir Igris. Thank you. Let’s continue,” Her tone gentle and respectful. Igris gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before they resumed their rhythm.

Meanwhile, you pressed your fingers to your temple, trying to stave off the impending migraine while watching Trick sulking nearby at the slightest possible prospect of the older butterfly ignoring her. She shot a glare toward the hovering interface.

“(ಥ﹏ಥ) …Traitor.”

[ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]

“Just ignore her.” You sighed, already too tired to deal with this today.

As if to prove your point, Beru chose that exact moment to land near with a thud that sent a wave of muddy water splashing in all directions, including Trick’s, who let out a hiss like a bristling feline. The former ant king let out some clicking noises.

“What are you doing?”

“Nun-ya.”

“What?”

“Nun-ya business.”

“Yeah,” Jinwoo followed your lead and turned away at the sparks practically flying between the two summons. “Let’s. Ignore them.”

Unfortunately for the several totem-masked monsters who thought they could take advantage of the apparent distraction, lunging toward the insect pair, they unknowingly only hastened their doom. With a snap of Trick’s fingers, the attackers froze mid-charge, consumed by sheer terror as they clutched at invisible wounds. It was borderline terrifying how convinced they were that they had already been slashed to pieces, only for Beru to tear through them for real a fraction of a second later.

“Kekeke. First to 30 wins?” Beru’s multifaceted eyes had a competitive glint in them aside from the bloodlust.

Trick shot back with an eerily wide grin, showcasing inhumanely sharp canines hidden below her usual mischievous smile.

“Now we’re talking!”

Gunshot pierced through a few masked foes in groups. The twin guns disappeared from slender hands just as fast as they appeared at the start of a different moveset from the humming butterfly.

An up wave of her hands was followed by several foes cut vertically from the bottom—

“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”

Up, down, cross, side, up…!

—and the rest was as follows.

Only after the motions slowed down did the rain and blood shine light to the glinting threads wrapped around Trick’s fingers into various directions, including the beasts that got shot at the start, limp bodies serving as effective anchors.

Trick turned around, hands now on her hips and sticking out her tongue, only to yelp when she saw a body thrown in her direction. Reflexively cutting it in half with her threads revealed the sight of Beru’s smug look not far off, already done with his fair share of enemies.

“Watch it, you—”

 “kEKEKEKEKE!”

“That girl sure knows how to hold a grudge.”

“The pot calling the kettle black. Beru also indulged her too much.”

You and Jinwoo locked eyes in a silent battle of wills for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

As the laughter died down and the two forces tore into the enemy ranks, that strange feeling from the very first start of this battle settled in you again—the sense of being out of place. Should you feel weirded out that you could only bring yourself to comment on it now?

“Jinwoo.”

“Hmm?”

“Put me down,” you said bluntly, your tone carefully devoid of emotion as you tried to school your expression despite the steady warmth creeping up your neck. And your back. And the back of your thighs—whatever parts of your body that were touching Jinwoo’s right now!

“…”

“…Please?”

“No.”

This man! He purposely waited for you to do that only to reject you, didn’t he?

Jinwoo looked at you with a maddeningly fake smile of innocence, his tone leaving no room for debate. His arms around you didn’t loosen; if anything, they tightened when you started wriggling around, successfully securing you in place.

Sure, it was not the first time he had done this. At the end of your second trip to the demon castle, Jinwoo only let your feet touch the ground after the two of you arrived at the hospital, where you could just sit and rest safely as he tended to his mother. You admit that you were exhausted, very well out of your mind, and thus you were thankful to him—back then.

This is different!

“I can walk on my own—”

“Nope.”

…What a mean man.

From the moment your children had somehow hijacked your landing to now, Jinwoo had been carrying you in classic bridal style, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oh, you could feel his muscles—and you almost leaned closer in an attempt to hide your growing fluster.

You don’t even know where to put your hands. Sure, you wrapped your arms around him, once, to steady yourself right after you fell into his arms—God, that sounds so cheesy. Right now, though, you were awkwardly fiddling with your fingers on your lap. This dilemma came to a much quicker end than the ongoing mental gymnastics in your mind when Jinwoo started walking, where you instinctively held onto his shoulder, simultaneously giving up on the matter of being carried like some damsel in distress until who knew when.

Even as the path ahead cleared—his shadow soldiers bowing deeply on either side and your butterflies fluttering like honor guards—Jinwoo showed no intention of putting you down. And you have to admit, there was undeniable comfort in the way he held you, grounding and unwavering just like his presence.

You almost forgot that you were inside a dungeon.

When did you start being this comfortable around Jinwoo?

Was it before meeting Norma Selner, the very first-time trust between you felt balanced in scale? Was it while on your first trip to the demon castle, when you brought yourself to hold his hand to calm him in what otherwise would be a precarious situation? Or was it further back?

How romantic!

Isn’t this basically ‘walking down the aisle’?

Mother—

You winced as the telepathic chatter from your children filled your mind, their voices buzzing with excitement and a variety of commentaries.

Love?

To a man who deserved everything and more? When you couldn’t even be sure of your place in this world, how could you do that to him? To the man who [̴]̷[̵]̶[̵]̶[̴]̴[̷]̵ you?

…?

Jinwoo [̸̦̄́̈́]̶̲̭͐̂̕[̸̭̄͘]̴̼͖̌͒̽[̵̲̝͂]̷̘͂͊͒[̵̙̦̬̒̈́̽]̸̥̈́͆[̶̙͊]̸̨͎͎̏ you.

???

[̴̨͚̥̤͖̣͍̱̥̥̃̽̂͂́̕]̷̞͋̀̍̆[̸̥̀̊̀]̴͍̑̇[̸̺̬̲͉̯̱̭̥̖͔͊̉̓]̸̧̡̛̳̰̬͉̰̗̮͙̄[̴̺̳̮͇͕̩̌̅͜]̴̢̥̭̮̩͉̜̼̽́͠[̶͚̓͂̃̿̇̃̀͝͝]̶̡̨̰̙͔͚̀͜ͅ—!

W-What is…my memories—

“-me)…(Name)!”

You jolted. For a few moments, the only thing you could see was grey.

“I knew it, you’re—”

“I’m fine, Jinwoo. And stop making that face.”

“What—”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oi—”

Before he could let out another syllable, you circled your arms around him and buried your face on his shoulder. You were well-aware of how his muscles tensed then, how his breath hitched when yours warmed his neck, and how he shivered when you played with his hair at the base with your fingers. It was a sly move on your part, to distract him like this.

How far can I go? What a dangerous thought.

It was impossible not to notice the signs, how confusing they all were.

It might have been a stretch to assume, might even be delusional, but unless it was normal behavior of this time and age to kiss the back of another’s hand—other than family’s—you doubted you read the situation too far in that case. The gesture might be normal occurrences for affectionate people, and you wouldn’t claim to know how Jinwoo would be if he had someone who truly accompanied him on his journey, step by step. What you did know was that Jinwoo showed that he cared, less with words, more through actions.

So, what did his actions so far told you?

For a lone wolf such as he, Jinwoo had been quite... tactile. You doubted he would be to just anyone.

Comfort, maybe?

Which led to the next question: you no longer fit in the category of ‘just anyone’ to him, weren’t you? After all, it was one of the many possibilities you had entertained, especially when he didn’t leave you much of a choice but to stay close.

Trust?

“…” You pursed your lips.

Or something else?

Y̸̦̖͓͛o̵͕̦͎͆̃ụ̶͎̗̒̈́ ̴̻̩̳̏ d̶̩̉i̸͓̭͒̕d̴͙͑̍ň̶̝͍͠'̶̧̙̍t̴̹̓ ̸͓͍̎̎ŕ̴̲̩͕̅͋e̴͔��m̷̦̞͗e̴̢̥̗͑̔m̵͖̳̄b̴͈͎͋̌e̵̡͔̜̍̅̈́r̶̨̳̜̂̉͑ ̶̘̒͘i̶̡̖͘̚f̴̺̳̎̀ ̶͍͍͔̐̏́ý̵͍̳͐͝ò̸̦͇͑̀u̷̧͌ e̶̜͓͗̕v̵̬͈̱̀̃̌ḛ̸̛͋͘r̴̺̀̋ ̷̛͙͕̻̑͆h̶͇̻͛̕å̸͙͖̭͒d̵͕̮̃ ̴̰̒̍a̷̻̘͌̂ ̸̹̔͑͜ͅl̴͙̈́ô̶̹̣̼v̴̘̪̄̂e̵̡̓͘͝ṟ̴̽́̏ ̴̺̌̑̐b̵̫͕̦̄̇e̴͔̅̀͐f̶̰̍o̷̩̐͝r̷̘̥̒̔e̶͚̦͒.̸̪̝̉͊͝

You were a fan of Jinwoo, yes, just one of the many, and a hopeless romantic to boot, considering the amount of romance genres you consumed in your free time up till now. It was a good thing if he actually found some comfort in you, God knew this man deserved more, so you didn’t really mind the hand-holding, hugging, and overall proximity. If you were being honest, every time he sought you out, it never failed to make you feel giddy—too giddy.

It was hard to turn a blind eye to the changes.

How could you describe this? Feverish, fuzzy, and your stomach did the thing? It felt too textbook copy-paste—everything was—which was fitting, considering your situation. But, simply ‘feeling’ it was not enough. What an excuse that was, when there was not yet definitive evidence to support your claims. Would you stoop that low?

In any case, you were threading onto treacherous grounds.

But—

You tightened your hold on Jinwoo, hiding yourself from the world.

System, can I afford to indulge myself?

[ … ]

“Enjoying yourself?” Jinwoo asked, and while you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he had to be smirking.

Look who’s talking. That question could apply to him too.

You mumbled something incoherent into his shoulder, and Jinwoo tilted his head, his smile widening. “What was that?”

You didn’t feel like gracing him with the answer he wanted this time. Instead, you nuzzled further into him, your head bumping against his chin from below, and your lips inches away from his Adam’s apple.

Just as you predicted again, Jinwoo shut his mouth pretty quick.

Revenge sure tasted sweet, but you decided that you would spare him some mercy. After all, you were still thankful for the distraction he provided, knowingly or not.

A small smile bloomed against his shoulder.

For all your children’s teasing, a small part of you couldn’t help but agree: this moment, despite every absurdity that surrounded it, was undeniably romantic.

Just this once.

Behind the curtain of the rainy dungeon, you just hoped this wouldn’t become a habit.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [30/11/2024] -

Dear [Trial Player]'s Readers,

Happy New Year! 🎉

First, I’d like to apologize for not posting this chapter on New Year's Eve as planned. Time was tighter than I expected, and honestly, this chapter could have been better. My apologies for that. If you have any questions, feedbacks, & comments, feel free to send them here or send in an ask—I may be slow, but I’ll do my best to respond as soon as I can! ❤️

With this chapter, we’ve officially reached the end of Season 1 of the Manhwa. Huzzah! 🎊

This chapter is a whirlwind, I admit. There’s a lot happening, such as: new revelations, developments, and information; foreshadowing and scattered implications; and official introductions to several new characters—the mysterious [???], also known as the [Children of 'Trial Player']! I have used these twenty-ish chapters so far to 'set up the stage', all will be revealed in the events of Season 2 of the Manhwa, so stay tuned! 🦋✨️

I’ll be returning to college for exams starting on January 6th, which will keep me busy for about three weeks. As such, there won’t be any major updates to this story until late January or early February. In the meantime, I’ll try to answer the asks you all have already sent to my inbox. Thank you so much for your patience and for showing interest in this work—I truly appreciate it. I apologize for the late responds in advance. 🙏

Thank you for all your support so far, everyone! 💖

[aramynx]

SWEET BERRY WINE & COURAGE

IZUKU MIDORIYA X READER

summary: you get the chance to reconnect with izuku a few years after graduation at a new years party, and a few glasses of wine bring you to spark up a conversation…

a/n: we a little late with this one but i hope you guys enjoy! i left izuku out of my christmas fics so he’s getting the new years special all to himself >:3

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You were starting to feel a headache coming on- this heroes party had been going on for way too long and the noise was finally starting to get to you after five hours of being surrounded by people. Thankfully, this was a press-free event, so at least you didn’t have the paparazzi forcing a camera in front of you at every waking moment. You had already spoken to most people, everyone had dawdled back off into groups they were familiar with, so you ended up sitting among your classmates from your UA days. The wine you were drinking was only a stronger red, smelling and tasting like berries.

You listened to their conversation, not really paying much mind to what they were saying as your eyes scanned the room, finger lightly tracing the rim of your wine glass. They decided to settle on a familiar head of green hair standing in front of the near empty buffet table. Hastily you stood up from your place at the end of the table and made your way over. Regrettably, you and Izuku hadn’t been as close as you had hoped back in high school, and slowly lost touch over the past couple of years with life getting in the way- now would be a good time to catch up, since he was currently by himself, looking handsome in a neatly pressed black suit, accompanied by the classic red shoes, of course.

“Hey Izuku! Long time no see.” You said rather loudly as you approached him with a wave, “You look great tonight! How have you been?”

“Y/N!” Izuku smiled back. That big, beautiful, beaming smile that hadn’t changed one bit since the first time you saw it, still full of hope and happiness, “Thank you, I’ve been good- just really busy, you know?”

Izuku didn’t get nervous to the extent that he used to anymore, although he was still pretty easy to fluster, and his face would still turn completely when he blushed.

“You look good too, by the way.” He said, smiling as he looked you up and down, admiring how wonderful you looked in your chosen outfit, and how the colour complimented you perfectly.

“How’s your agency?”

A long conversation led to the two of you standing away from the bustle of the people in the crowds, in front of a large window overlooking the dark city, illuminated by the dull glow of apartment windows. One thing led to another and before you knew it you were casually chatting about the people you both knew and who had ended up in relationships.

“I had no idea they were together, that makes sense though.” Izuku said, chuckling slightly.

“Yup. Anyway, have you found a partner?”

“Oh! Uh- no, I haven’t.” He admitted, “I’ve been on a few uh- awkward dates here and there but they didn’t work out.”

He scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours. He was a little ashamed to admit that he was struggling to get into a relationship, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. You smiled sympathetically, knowing he was a pretty awkward person and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon.

“You know…” You started, confidence spilling out of your mouth more than you’d like it to, “I used to have a crush on you in high school.”

“Wait really? I had no idea!” He said in surprise, face tinting red as the reality of your words set in. Sure it was a few years ago now, but his head was conjuring up ideas of what could have been, if only he had the courage to ask you out back then, “I felt the same way back then as well, it’s a shame we didn’t get closer than we were, huh?”

Despite trying to hide his sprawling thoughts with a calm and collected confession, Izuku merely came across as more nervous than before, stuttering a little as he told you. You noticed that people were rushing into the centre of the room for the countdown to midnight, when suddenly the wine in your system gave you an idea.

“Do you want to know who I have a crush on now?” You smiled mischievously stepping ever so slightly closer to him, “He’s a pro hero, name starts with ‘D’.”

“Is that so?” Izuku asked curiously, his heart skipping beats as you were suddenly very close in his proximity.

“… and it ends with e-k-u…” You whispered, listening as people began to count down from 30 as the clock ticked into the new year.

Izuku’s mind quickly processed what you had just said, blushing hard as the gap between your lips narrowed, meeting gently as the year rolled over into the next. The sounds of fireworks outside aligned with the sparks in his stomach as you kissed, his mind quieting for a moment. Your arm found its way around his neck, resting gently on his shoulder, his arm reaching around you to place a hand carefully on your lower back to pull you in closer. As your lips remained pressed against each other for just a moment longer before pulling away, eyes locking into a shared, delighted and surprised trance as cheers began to erupt from the crowd.

“Happy New Year!”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[ourlittleuluru]

In summary, this memory was pretty good! It was so... SO MUCH. It immediately fried my brain half way through /@A@;;;;; It was insane. This memory (and the Unreturned Traveller) both left little to no room for any sort of imagination (,,>﹏<,,)

I may have some reservations about certain things with like pacing and such, but I get what they're going for (though at the same time I can't help but feel like they're also doing this spicy banner and heavy leaning on Xavier's jealous tendency in response to much of the vocal fandom really wanting it)

I won't say I love this card as much as the others but I see the appeal and still appreciate it~ I do still love the little moments in the cards and I'll put my trust with the writers still! (writers who are also fanfic authors, seriously... the wording they used during the kindled part just screams fanfic to me! 😂)

(ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳ into the Read-more it goes as usual! Fair warning. Long post is LONG (as per usual but at least it's not like branch story long lmao)

All in all this memory reaaaaally highlights a lot of Xavier's flaws, in a good way!

On one hand (i'm pretty sure this happened after 21 Days) now that Xavier has worked on expressing himself more with MC, he's letting the side that he's kept under wraps, out. This resulted with the Xavier we see in this memory. The insecurity, afraid that he'll lose MC-not because she'll die-but just losing out on any sort of time with her (maybe because he's also running on limited time???? angst potential????!), and his little more childish tendency to feel jealous.

He's just so baby 😭🥺 but also Xavier! You'll be okay! MC isn't going anywhere!!

For the first half of the date, I felt like there was some... unanswered questions? Maybe it's for us to figure it out. But I also felt that it was feeling a liiiiittle bit rushed?

Pretty much it seems the starting trigger for Xavier's jealousy began right in the first 3 minutes. Honestly felt that it could've been expanded on a little more, showcasing how it feels like MC would be snatched away from him 🤔 But since I'm sure there's a count to how long the dates should be, I guess they opted for this instead ｢( • ﾍ •) Which also still makes sense enough. But also just reminds me of the Tender Moment - Winter's Sun, where MC needs to go to a networking event and he's such a huge baby about it 😂

I think it's more than a little, MC X'DDD

This part though 🥺 The fact MC has given him access to their own place. And yet Xavier is still so proper about it. Such a gentleman uwu

MC had full faith and trust in Xavier. And Xavier, aware of it, but still would seek consent first. To which, after he has MC's consent, Xavier instead will make sure that MC knows it's him first. The care and thought in this 😭😭😭💖

HE'S LITERALLY PLAYING OUT THAT MEME I CAN'T EVEN 🤣

"You're the most jealous man I know" " You know other men?"

Ngl seeing this written where there's storm or dark clouds above Xavier's head is just funny because that's literally the vision 🤣 he's such an open book when it comes to MC

Him just wanting to hold onto MC at every opportunity even when people are around (/ω＼)

First time meeting Charlie and Xavier was still polite enough... the 2nd time tho... 😂

Poor Charlie! Of all people he first meet, it had to be Xavier and inciting his jealous streak X'D and he's oblivious to it... goodness

The way MC be pushing his buttons to figure out her suspicions on his mood tho 😭 and then the way Xavier literally be pouting in his voice when he says if there's other neighbours in the future that'll do things with her is just... BABY 🥺

Xavier essentially just be slowly putting his walls down, being more indulgent in showing his feelings. And the way he asks MC to see if they are okay with it 🥺

He's just seeking out for MC's reassurance at this point

How many times has some sort of sweet fruit been mentioned whenever it's them getting intimate >w< But this guy just casually leaving MC hanging on the edge.... wow 👀 he definitely knows what he's doing

Same MC... Same... u-u

Honestly, yes 🤣 Like sir, you have centuries and loved reading and also has shown to know so much. A bit difficult to assume you HADN'T ALREADY heard of it before

But the lines right after that just had me like 🥺 Imagine the times he just sat there alone, gazing. Thinking about the things that had passed. About how uneventful or how his life lacked some sort of anchor. His only reason for continuing his days is finding a way to deal with Philos's core and bringing the Backtrackers home. Or maybe to go to Uluru... stuff like that

Ngl... this line from MC had me be like ??????? cuz it made no sense to me;;; Not sure if it's just me not getting it lol.

But I went to look up the CN version and it's (very, very roughly) more along the lines of "If there's no fire, nothing would explode even with a fuse".

Interestingly enough, Xavier seems to avoid answering it? It also happened later, when MC tried to understand Xavier's change. I wonder why he avoided it. out of ego? inability to admit it because it'll be embarrassing? he doesn't know how to put it in words?

Anyways

The fact they be having such a sweet intimate moment and Mr neighbour Charlie came busting in. The face Xavier has. He couldn't even contain his emotions 🤣 thankfully he didn't need to run for his life.

Xavier really be staring him down at the side there 🤣🤣🤣 And Xavier just... 😭 I can't even with this baby. Charlie please read the room there if you know what's good for you...!

The way he just casually lies about this like....! Xavier please 🤣 One can tell he's trying to find a way to subtly tell Charlie to leave them alone I guess but you can tell he's also just letting his temper get the better of him and it came out this way

Okay this part of the whole date was like one of the biggest point to me :C

The way he has worded "do you want me to go back to how I was before?" was very much in a way referencing to one of their things about "every version of them". And the way that line was worded also reeked of Xavier's uncertainty. He was worried there. Was it too much? Is it going to end up driving MC away from him? MC of course did their best to try and ease his worry. It wasn't so much MC wanting Xavier to be how he was before but they just want to understand him more.

And the way Xavier just turns around and proceeds to take it out on the tree instead 😭😭😭😭 Xavier the tree is innocent...! That aside, he's definitely struggling to figure his own feelings out but that childish temper just pretty much got into his head so much that he couldn't keep his usual more level-headedness.

Also MC, did you really HAVE to kick him on his ass just to get his attention? 🤣 Man's angy enough and that definitely cranked his angy up to a 110

The way Xavier nuzzles saying he doesn't know (what else to suggest to help him calm down) was 🥺 he was needy and desperate at that point and he really didn't know how to deal with his emotion like... UGH muh heart

And MC THE INSTIGATOR...! The real freak fr 🤣😭 setting him off to go down the spicy route 😏 of course he's gonna respond in kind

MC gripping and stroking his chin like this 😩

and now that he knows he's allow to... man... MC just unleashed his desire

Him just smirking the rest of the way through.... asdfghjkl

LIKE HELP PLEASE (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)

The insane animation and voice acting for these round of cards was.... inasne... even the EN side has upped their game!

The kindled wasn't too long but boy did it show SO MUCH. AND THE SPICINESS WASN'T JUST IN THE KINDLED LIKE ASDFGHJKL

IT WENT BEYOND

And so much longer than I ever thought. Like after a short fade to black was the usual, so I was expecting that but OH NO NOT THIS TIME LIKE... WRITERS PLEASE ( //>///<//) MY SANITY WAS NOT ABLE TO TANK THAT

the devs making full use of their blended animation state machine with the spicy after-kindled scenario was insane. It's like on a whole new level of expressing their emotion. And the sweat...?! THE SWEAT! the heavy breathing too like... (๑/////๑ " )

You can't tell me this isn't totally a line used so much in fanfics LMAO

🥺 This. When he said "Don't go..." also screamed to me that he was afraid. He still was. The fleeting moments his has with MC, he was scared it'll just disappear

🥺🥺😭😭😭

ASDFGHJKL when this part came up I had to freak the heck out 🤣 jumpscared fr

JUST HOW MUCH WERE THEY GOING AT IT FOR?! 😭 like rabbits??

And him admitting that he's afraid, although indirectly (also sir, you're not answering the question again T^T)

And the way MC says "I know" here. It says so much about how they understand each other more than themselves at this point like 😭

MC reassuring Xavier after this as well, to make sure he understands and knows that he's not alone, and he won't be 🥺

I... what do I even say about this இ௰இ I'm sure there's something to say but brain not braining

And the return of their little domestic moments uwu💖

This had me cackling 🤣 One can never be too careful when Xavier's in the kitchen

And more little things to signify them as a pair. Filling their homes with pieces of each other

And Xavier putting the words he couldn't say into a card like... 😭💖

Him being surprised at himself for how much feelings he has held and how much more there still is. And despite all that he makes sure to ask MC if they'd be okay with it. Xavier always checking in on MC is just precious. 🥺 ensuring they're both on the same page. Be it about work, about the progress of their relationship. It's always about that. Being together and in the same step.

I previously had some reservations about how this memory was resolved but looking back at it again, Xavier's trying to show it in his own way and MC understood and also responded in a way that it's on the same page as him. Alongside with a small little banter to end it uwu

I can't wait to see how their relationship develops further. If and when Xavier grows to be more secure and knowing that MC won't leave him. I can imagine him being a lot more of a menace than he already is. Even if he gets a little jealous, he won't be insecure about it anymore and just kinda does his lil pouty baby act on purpose. That kind of thing! This might just be my own preference speaking but... yea •ᴗ•

[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

I don’t even know if it’s a request but I’ve been thinking about Pato crushing on or dating an autistic driver reader who he doesn’t realize is autistic but he still happily does things to help and make her feel comfortable

-💙🩵

It’s easy when it’s you||Pato O’ward x fem!Autistic!reader

Word count—654

The paddock was alive with noise—engines roaring in the background, team radios buzzing, and the general hum of race day chaos. You liked to stay on the fringes, close enough to soak in the energy but far enough to avoid being overwhelmed.

Today was no different. You had your favorite pair of noise-canceling headphones on, a small buffer between you and the world, as you studied the data on your tablet.

“Hey, you planning on giving away all the secrets before the race?”

You startled slightly at the familiar voice, turning to see Pato standing nearby, his signature grin in full force.

“I don’t think my data is that valuable,” you replied, the corners of your mouth quivering despite yourself.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he teased, leaning casually against the barrier. “Besides, you’re the only one around here who makes sense half the time.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks but quickly brushed it off. Pato had a way of making everyone feel at ease, but his attention always felt a little… different when it was on you.

It started with small things. Pato would always make sure to ask if you wanted to join the group after races, but he never pushed when you declined. If you sat alone during a particularly loud debrief, he’d pass by and drop off a bottle of water without a word, his presence calming without being intrusive.

One day, you found him crouched next to your chair, holding out a bag of your favorite snacks.

“I noticed you don’t always eat much during the post-race chaos,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured this might help.”

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned. “You… noticed that?”

He shrugged, his easygoing demeanor masking what felt like genuine care. “Yeah, I notice a lot of things.”

The moment everything shifted came after a particularly grueling weekend. You’d been caught off guard by a sudden schedule change, and the resulting chaos had left you overstimulated and barely holding it together.

You’d retreated to a quiet corner, your breathing uneven as you tried to ground yourself. The hum of fluorescent lights felt too loud, the texture of your fireproof suit too scratchy.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Pato crouching in front of you, his brow furrowed with concern.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, though your voice betrayed the opposite.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he set down a small item in front of you—a soft, squishy stress ball in the shape of a car.

“Thought you might like this,” he said gently.

You stared at it, then at him. “How did you—”

“You seemed off earlier,” he said with a small shrug. “I figured maybe this could help. If not, we can just sit here for a while.”

Your throat tightened. It wasn’t just that he’d noticed—it was that he’d cared enough to do something about it without making a big deal of it.

“I’m autistic,” you blurted out, the words slipping past your lips before you could second-guess yourself.

Pato blinked, then nodded slowly. “Okay. What does that mean for you?”

You hesitated, unsure how much to share. “It means I get overwhelmed sometimes. By noise, changes, people… everything.”

“Got it,” he said, his tone casual but warm. “So, how can I help? Besides this little guy,” he added, gesturing to the stress ball with a grin.

Your chest loosened, the weight of the moment lifting. “This is a good start.”

From then on, Pato made it his mission to quietly support you in ways that felt almost effortless. He learned to spot the signs of your discomfort before you even said a word, offering subtle solutions that never felt patronizing. And when you finally worked up the courage to tell him how much it all meant to you, he simply smiled and said, “It’s easy when it’s you.”

[hauntedestheart]

A Business Investment (FxM Body Swap)

Another story from the world of business.

Mason McKinley was sure he was going to be a famous actor someday- he just needed the world to realize it.

Growing up in his small midwestern hometown where he was the hottest guy around, it had felt like being the star was his birthright. He'd netted the lead in every school play since elementary school, modelled for local catalogues, even won homecoming AND prom king. 6'4'', a killer jawline, luscious blonde hair and bright blue eyes, literally the poster boy for the local gym… how could Kentucky not be in the palm of his hand? All he had to do was wear a nice tight shirt that showed off his muscles and flash that pretty smile of his and anything he wanted fell into his lap.

It didn't take long for Hollywood to give him a reality check- turned out that Mason was not actually a very good actor, and once he was up against talented dreamboats rather than the wimps in drama club, his star came crashing down to earth.

After six years in the business and his claims to fame were a handful of minor background roles in some long running procedurals, some poorly reviewed theatre, and an embarrassing ad spot for STD testing that everyone back home was still making fun of him for.

In the small pond he'd been biggest fish around, but out in the ocean? He floundered.

While he was waiting for his big break, Mason needed a survival job, and thanks to some other actor friends he'd gotten employed as an attendant at an expensive country club. The young actor hoped that one day a big shot producer would come in, see him, and cast him on the spot, but since that hadn't happened yet he spent his days fetching water bottles and chasing after lost tennis balls. Not exactly his Hollywood dream.

Still, the tight white shorts of the uniform made his ass look amazing and if he flirted with the wealthy old clientele of the club, he took home a killing in tips. Being a corn fed midwestern hunk made him "exotic" to rich out-of-touch Californians, and Mason had no qualms about debasing himself a bit for some cash. A little wink here, a flex there, a look the other way when someone got a little handsy… it paid the bills.

He had his limits though.

"Yoo-hoo!" A shrill voice rang out across the tennis court and Mason winced- luckily his acting skills allowed him to smooth the disgust from his face before he turned around to greet the plump middle aged woman who had materialized beside him.

"It's good to see you again Ms. Grant," he lied through his pretty white teeth, and he was feeling generous so he threw in an extra lie for free. "You look lovely today. Is your hair different?"

It was a stupid question- as the head of some kind of beauty company the woman was always changing her look, in this case from a dark black perm to a platinum blonde bob -but Ms. Grant still let out a surprised gasp and tilted her head side to side as if she were modelling the latest fashion. It was not a good look, but Mason dug deep into his Stanislavski training and managed to keep a smile on his face.

"You like? I just had it done. I think it makes me look younger, don't you? If you're not careful, one of these days I'm going to snap you up!" Ms. Grant threw her head back and let out a stage giggle, and Mason bit his tongue so he wouldn't burst out laughing himself. An attempt at a seductive expression appeared on her face and she 'casually' reached over and gave Mason's bicep a less-than-innocent pat. "And please, I've told you a million times, call me Seraphina."

Your name is Susan, Mason thought. "Of course Seraphina," Mason said.

Her hand was still on his arm, one thumb trailing idly over the curve of his muscles, and Mason gave a polite nod before escaping to ready some equipment, peeking over his shoulder to confirm that Ms. Grant was staring at his tight butt when he bent over to pick up some tennis rackets. He smirked and made sure to arch his back to give her a little show before he straightened up- it never hurt to keep the clients happy.

Ms. Grant honestly wasn't that bad, but she was a herald of destruction, because if she was here, then The California Business Women's Association weren't far behind.

The California Business Women's Association was supposed to be an organization for high powered business women looking to network, but the meetings were really just an excuse for rich bitches to brag about their success and tear each other down… with a smile, of course. Mason thought of them as the Real Housewives of the Wall Street (never mind that Wall Street was on the far coast) and while he got a sick pleasure out of observing their gossip and backstabbing, they were one of his least favorite groups to work with.

Normally a hot piece of meat like Mason could make a killing off of a bunch of mostly single women over thirty, but Dominique Banks (pharmaceuticals CEO and undisputed alpha bitch of the group) made it damn near impossible for him to schmooze. A very public divorce several years ago had made Dominique into something of a misandrist and now she did her best to chastise and shame the other women whenever they tried to engage in any talk of men, let alone flirt with the cute hunk bringing them their towels.

(Mason assumed that was why Ms. Grant showed up early to objectify him as much as possible before Dominique was there to judge her for it.)

Dominique herself descended on the court a minute later with the rest of the ladies in tow, and soon the court was filled with women in expensive active gear (some with the tags still on) milling about and pretending to warm up for a few rounds of low intensity tennis. Mason busied himself offering to take care of coats and bags while also doing his best to eavesdrop on the latest gossip.

Currently, Dominique was complaining to a trio of women about a member of the group who seemed to be running late.

"I think it's irresponsible of her to be so tardy," Dominique said, pushing deeper into an impressive lunge- she was one of the few in the group who actually kept up with her personal trainer despite a busy schedule, something she loved to lord over the other women. "I'm starting to question if she should even be a member of the CBWA."

"Maybe she had a work emergency?" one of her companions offered, watching with mild interest as Dominique stretched her calves. "She did just get that big promotion."

"'Big promotion?'" Dominique scoffed and turned her nose up. "Be serious Lucille, she's a middle manager whose office happens to be on the top floor… or a few floors down from it I suppose." The shade drew a small titter out of the other women, and Dominique smirked. "We all have demanding jobs, but we still make time every month to come to these meetings because it's important for us to connect as women in the male-dominated professional world. We're a sisterhood! If we don't look out for each other, who will? Which is exactly why we need to make an example of her."

Mason had a pretty good idea who they were talking about. There was only one woman in the group who Dominique couldn't stand- coincidentally the only woman in the group who ever stood up to her. But before the young man could search the group for a head of red hair to see if he was correct, a voice boomed out, and everyone's eyes were drawn to a newcomer who was making their way onto the court.

"Sorry I'm late ladies!"

Like a scene from a movie, sauntering across the green pavement was one of the hottest guys Mason had ever seen. He was brown skinned with carefully coiffed black hair and the kind of face that Mason usually only saw in the castings for his modelling gigs- a striking appearance enhanced by the way his eyes burned an unnaturally bright, electric blue. Tall and broad, the tight grey jacket he wore did little to disguise the bulk of his build… and if the fit of his compression shorts was to be believed, he'd brought his own tennis balls to the court.

Mason's jaw dropped, and he nearly dropped a basket of tennis balls with it before he gathered his senses and caught himself at the last second. The sexy stranger wasn't on staff (Mason would have heard if such an Adonis had been hired) but most of the members of the country club were old and gross, so who was this guy? A private trainer hired by a client? A socialite's new trophy husband? Some Middle Eastern prince?

"Thanks for waiting," the man said, making his way towards the benches with a fancy (seemingly brand new) equipment bag bouncing on his hip. "It's been so busy at work with the new startup we're launching, but I managed to move some things around to make room at the last minute."

Mystery stud unzipped his jacket as he walked and stowed it in the bag, revealing a tight grey top that bared huge, muscular arms, and was cut just low enough to allow a tasteful peek of his furry pecs. He looked down at himself and then tugged on his shirt, adjusting it so that it showed even more of his ample chest, which he made bounce a few times. A satisfied little smile came to his full lips at the sight, and when he looked back up at the CBWA, it seemed like half of the organization swooned.

Mason was feeling a little weak in the knees himself, but as much as he'd rather drool over the guy, he did technically have a job to do. He in front of the man and held a hand out, stopping the newcomer before he could join the cluster of speechless businesswomen. "Uh, excuse me sir, this court has been booked for private use by a group already."

"I'm aware," the man gave a chuckle (he was looking at Mason like he thought Mason was an idiot, but somehow, condescension was a good look on him) and tossed his curly black hair. "And I'm a member of the group- Terry Walker. Some of my eggheads at the lab cooked up a new kind of body transferal device and I've been experimenting with it in the workplace. Didn't have time to switch back before the meeting, so I figured, why the hell not?" He winked and thumped a fist into his meaty pecs a few times. "Take the thing out for a spin."

"Oh, body swapping! I think I read something about that!" Ms. Grant exclaimed, and several of the other woman in the group murmured their agreement. Mason had a hazy recollection of getting a note from his boss about something that morning, probably this, but he was saved from having to apologize when Dominique shoved him out of the way.

"You are not Terry Walker," the woman snapped, squaring her legs and and raising her chin like a lioness preparing to protect her territory. "What the hell kind of stunt is this? Did Terry hire a stripper as some kind of joke?"

The man laughed a warm, rich laugh. "You're not the first person to say that but no, believe it or not I borrowed this body from one of the guys who works in my lab. Tariq or something like that? I can never keep track of these things." He kept an easy smile on his face and shrugged his broad shoulders, intentionally stretching his shoulders back to bare his impressive wingspan. "And I'm the real deal- they wouldn't have let me in if I couldn't prove it. I look good, right ladies?"

The man's arms came up into a double bicep flex and Mason didn't know if he should be jealous of the man's muscles (those peaks) or massively turned on by them. The women were having less trouble deciding what to do and many of them were beginning to to swoon, only to straighten their spines when Dominique shot them a withering look out of the corner of her eye.

She turned back around and drew herself up to her full height (she was the tallest woman of the group, but this man had several inches on her and it was clearly grinding her gears) and jabbed a finger at the alleged impostor.

"You can't seriously expect us to believe this nonsense," she scoffed, drawing a chorus of murmurs from the flock of ladies behind her.

A sly smile came to the man's lips. "What do you mean? This is that exciting new project that I've been working on that I posted about it in the organization's official Slack, remember?" One of his bushy eyebrows shot up and he eyed Dominique pointedly. "You've been reading the Slack, haven't you Dominique? I seem to recall you saying it's so important to stay updated- but I guess you've probably been too busy lately to keep up with what's going on with your CBWA sisters. All those patent lawsuits and meetings about alimony must take up so much of your time!"

The vicious barb made several of the women gasp, and even Mason felt a chill run down his spine. In the corner of Dominique's forehead, a vein was throbbing like it was about to burst, but the rest of her expression was frighteningly neutral. Then, her lips pressed into a snarl that tried to pass as a smile.

"Yes, it can be so time consuming being being the head of a company," Dominique said, voice dripping with venom. "You're so lucky you don't have to deal with all that stress Terry. And don't worry yourself about my alimony, I'm just glad I was at least married once unlike-"

The woman realized her mistake too late, and Terry Walker smirked triumphantly.

"No comment on the patent lawsuits?" Walker added, just to salt the wound, and then she brushed past Mason (who shivered at the momentary contact with her large, solid body) and flung her bag down on the benches.

She bent down to rifle through it, giving everyone an eyeful of the tight, muscular male ass that was just barely concealed by her tight grey tennis shorts, and Mason clocked a subtle arch in her back. It was the same trick Mason used to make his butt look juicier when he was hustling for tips, and now that he was on the receiving end of it, he understood why it worked. Mason wasn't ashamed of his own ass (quite the opposite actually), but thought if he had that thing, he'd be unstoppable.

The other women converged on Terry like flies on honey, buzzing about as they all tried to get her attention.

"How did you-" "Look at that-" "So do you really have a-" "I NEED to-" "When is it-" "You have to got to let-" "Where the hell did you find-" "Please can I feel-"

The gaggle of women were all talking at once, making it difficult to make out any one question, but Mason didn't need a transcript to understand what the main topic of discussion was. Everyone was fascinated by the body Walker had borrowed, and who could blame them? A tall, handsome, muscular man with bronze skin and piercing unnaturally electric blue eyes… Mason was half tempted to dive into the crowd himself to get a closer look.

Terry, for her part, was taking the onslaught in stride, basking in the attention and tossing out answers where she could. But her new body did most of the talking as she flexed one of her huge arms in response to someone's question, bouncing the bicep up and down like a softball. She generously leaned down and extended the arm, giving the other women a chance to feel, which they all instantly took advantage of, practically hanging off of the muscled limb like it was a jungle gym.

"Okay, that's ENOUGH ladies!" Dominique snapped- or rather clapped, several times, loudly. All eyes turned to her and the women cowed, drifting away from the hunky man in their midst and falling back into line. After a tense moment of silence, Dominique raised her voice again. "Now, since we're finally all here, are we just going to stand around talking, or are we going to play?" She hefted her tennis racket over her shoulder like it was a weapon and waved her hand at the group. "We'll start off with pairs, everyone partner up."

Pandemonium ensued as all of the women scrambled to grab Terry by the arm, and Dominique was practically steaming.

"Never mind, we're doing singles."

---

Terry trounced the others, of course.

Using the body of a ripped athletic young man in the prime of his life gave her a significant advantage, but perhaps her opponents would have stood a better chance if they hadn't been so distracted staring at the ostentatious mass of flesh that was bouncing around in her loose tennis shorts as she bounded around the court. More than one match had been lost before it began when Terry's opponent's eyes were so trained on the way that hefty bulge jumped when she did that they completely missed her serving them the ball.

The sight of Terry's borrowed body on the court was a sight to behold, all muscle and bronzed skin. The shorts she had selected were shamelessly short, baring as much of the young man's strong, thick thighs as could be considered decent, and those powerful legs pumped like pistons as she used them to dart around the court- the constant action caused the shorts to ride up further as the games went along until they were being devoured by his massive ass cheeks.

Mason found himself mesmerized by the way her body's hairy pecs, which heaved up and down beneath her shirt as she ran, and it was almost funny how on a court full of women, it was the man's chest that was bouncing the most. This only became more noticeable as the matches wore on and her masculine body became sweatier and sweatier, soaking the thin gray fabric of her shirt until it began to cling to her flesh and highlight just how muscular the body she'd brought for the day was.

After an intense final showdown between Terry and Dominique (during which Dominique had been unable to score a single point, resulting her throwing down her racket and screaming at Mason for something or other), the women retreated to the outdoor lounge area where couches and tables were shaded by umbrellas, and Mason did his best to eavesdrop as he served them drinks.

"It's just been incredible ladies," Terry was telling them. The couches were arranged in a "U" shape and she sat at the direct center, leaned back with her muscular arms folded behind her head to give everyone a view of her hairy armpits. Legs sprawled wide of course, just to draw eyes to the heavy bulge that sat between her legs. "I mean we all know how hard it is for women in the workplace, but I still wasn't ready for how much easier it would be as a man! I've started swapping into a male body for all of my meetings and they've never gone smoother."

"You see, men are animals," she continued, snapping her fingers at Mason to bring her a drink. "And animals respect an alpha. That's why they have all of these stupid male rituals- handshakes and bourbon and cigars and all that. When I walk into a boardroom and I'm the tallest, the strongest…" Terry's eyes glanced down suggestively towards her bulging crotch. "the biggest, then men have to listen to me. It's almost disgusting how simple it is."

"Don't you think that kind of thinking undermines the work that we do here at this organization?" Dominique chimed in. Not to be outdone, she'd pulled up a chair so she could sit at the opening of the "U" opposite Terry, and she glared across the space at the smiling male bodied woman. "How are men supposed to learn to respect us when we act like the only way to get ahead is to become one of them? We're supposed to be empowering women, and you're jumping ship like a rat."

"I'm feeling pretty empowered right now actually." Terry slipped one of the arms out from behind her head and flexed it, bouncing the thick bicep up and down a few times, drawing a chorus of giggles from the assembled women, and Dominique frowned. A cocky smile crossed Terry's borrowed face and her sparkling blue eyes glittered in the light, and she casually rubbed at the thin layer of stubble that was starting to sprout on her chiseled jawline. Slowly, as she spoke, her hands began drifting down the masculine body she had rented.

"You do bring up a good point Dominique- I have no intention of becoming a man full-time, this body is just temporary. I'm a woman through and through, but if I can take advantage of the privileges of being a man to get ahead, why wouldn't I? Men only understand power and they won't respect us until we have it. They say, talk softly and carry a big stick, and this…" Terry's hands had reached her crotch and she grabbed at it, hefting the bulge up and down a few times. Everyone was mesmerized. "This is my stick. Today, I'm blending in with the boys' club. Tomorrow? I own it."

Mason was starting to get hard in his own shorts at this point, and he cursed, sticking his fingers into his pockets and trying to adjust himself so it was less obvious.

(A bit of bulge was good for business but standing in front of all those women with a full blown erection was just embarrassing.)

A bit flustered, he dutifully marched over to Terry and handed her the drink she had requested earlier- she didn't thank him, but she did throw him a wink, and it was so sexy on that guy's face that Mason felt his cock twitch. From the way the other women were staring, he was sure they had all noticed, and he jogged off with a red face.

"And there are recreational uses for a male body," Terry commented, stroking herself as she watched Mason's ass bouncing away. "Obviously."

"Walker, that is highly inappropriate!" Dominique slammed her glass down on the table in front of her, splashing orange liquid everywhere. "Sexual harassment is a serious issue, and furthermore, this is a professional organization. Nobody wants to hear about that!"

"Shut up, yes we do!" Ms. Grant shouted, and Dominique was so caught by surprise that her mouth snapped shut. All of the women turned away from her and leaned in towards Terry, ready to hang on her every word. "Give us all the details Terry."

Terry took a sip of her drink, milking the anticipation. As Mason busied himself wiping up Dominique's mess, he kept his eyes trained on Terry- the straw Mason had given her was a larger one usually reserved for boba, but he'd felt a burning need to see what those plush lips looked like curled up and sucking on something thick. The sight did not disappoint, nor did it help calm his pesky erection.

Finally, Walker spoke. "Well… you all remember Marcos, right?"

"Your pool boy?" Ms. Grant gasped, and all of the women burst out into a titter of excitement. The handsome young man had been something of a celebrity for the group ever since they'd had a mixer at Walker's house, and they were always asking her for updates. "You didn't!"

"Oh I did," Terry smirked and popped her pecs cockily. "Quite a few times actually. I never thought I'd get the chance- I just kept him on the payroll because he was pretty to look at -but it turns out he was very attracted to this body. He was begging for my cock and I…" Her hips shifted, a long, lazy thrust into the air, and the outline of the long and thick cock in question made itself known- she was getting hard. "I was happy to give him what he wanted."

"Haven't studies shown that the male orgasm is less intense than the female orgasm?" Dominique cut in, trying to land another barb, but Terry just shrugged her off.

"It felt pretty good to me when I was fucking a sexy twenty-six year old," Terry's hands were on her crotch, and everyone's eyes were glued to it as well as she began to stroke herself up and down through the thin fabric. Her borrowed voice, warm and rich, dropped to a husky growl. "But the appeal is in more than just the orgasm, it's the experience. It's about getting to be the one on top and in charge. I've been fucked by so many men in my life that getting to be the one doing the fucking was goddamn cathartic- and it isn't like some plastic strap-on, I got to use eight inches of top of the line cock to do the job."

"And these muscles!" Wrenching one hand away from her nethers, she shoved it roughly beneath her shirt, the fabric riding up and offering a peak of her host's sculpted brown torso as she groped one of his pecs. From the way her fingers were moving beneath the fabric, she seemed to be tweaking one of his nipples. "FUCK this guy is so goddamned strong! I'M so strong! I threw him around like a ragdoll and he thanked me for it, he sucked on my tits and begged me to manhandle him. I was the man. I was in control."

"Fuck!" A masculine grunt escaped her lips, and she began to stroke herself harder. Now fully hard, the tip of her cock was peeking out of the waistband of her shorts (allowing everyone to see that her host was in fact, circumcised) and it bobbed up and down as she thrust into her own hand. "There's something incredibly… visceral about being able to shove yourself inside of a man, I wouldn't even begin to know how to describe it. But it feels incredible. It feels… it feels…"

And then the rest of the sentence was a wordless roar of pleasure as she ejaculated, grinding her hand up and down the length of her shaft like a man possessed… which in a sense is exactly what she was. The mushroom head of her borrowed penis throbbed as it spewed out an impressive load of semen, staining her shirt, her face, even splattering onto the cushions next to her and the table before her, and she slumped back onto the cushions in a heap. Panting, her huge chest heaved up and down, and she waved at Mason.

Like everyone else in attendance, he stared dumbly at the debauched man in front of him for a moment until he remembered his job and realized what she wanted- usually the towels were only for sweat, but he supposed they'd work just as well for cum. But when he offered her one, she just rolled her electric blue eyes and stripped her shirt off, leading to a chorus of gasps as her borrowed body's furry muscles were fully unveiled. Wordlessly, she gestured to the mess that dotted her torso.

Mason's mouth was suddenly dry but he didn't dare swallow- swallowing was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about in this particular moment. He felt the heavy eyes of the entire CBWA on him as he dropped to his knees in front of the strapping male figure, and the young actor had been in Hollywood long enough to recognize when he was being asked to play a role.

And he had auditioned for enough productions that were basically soft-core porn to know how to play this one.

He casually ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing his golden locks, and plastered a smile on his face as he peeked up at Terry, looking for all the world like an innocent wide eyed farm boy eager to serve like no one was watching. White spunk was already starting to dry in the forest of chest hair so Mason doused his towel with water from a glass on the table to better scrub it out, meaning there was just a thin sheet of wet fabric between his hands and the perfectly sculpted body that Terry Walker had claimed for the day, so it didn't take much acting for Mason behave like he was turned on.

The young actor cheated out and angled his torso slightly so the horde of horny businesswomen watching could get a good view of his own muscular torso as he worked, perversely eager to remind his clients that there was more than one stud on the court that day. He took his time working Terry's pecs, squeezing them slightly under the guise of scraping out some particularly hard to remove spunk, and then worked his way down to her abs, digging his fingers into the crags of her six pack to make sure he got out every little speck.

And when he reached the waistband of her shorts, he let his fingers drift along the deep v of muscle that vanished beneath, teasing everyone that he might go deeper, before he reluctantly pulled himself back.

Drawing up to his feet, he dusted his knees off, and then he noticed Walker's drink- semen dotted the rim of the glass and a thin layer of white was laying atop the liquid inside. He reached for it to take it away, but Walker stopped him. She grabbed the drink herself and slowly, deliberately, licked the rim, then downed the remainder of the glass in one swallow. Only then did she let him walk away.

Terry, shirtless and smug, smiled at the other women of the CBWA, who sat there speechless. Mouths were hanging open, some of them were fanning themselves, Ms. Grant's right hand was tucked beneath her skirt, and an unexpected voice broke the silence.

"How can I try that out?" Dominique asked, her voice strained and almost desperate, and then the floodgates opened and all of the other woman began chattering. Terry lifted up a hand and everyone went silent.

"Well as luck would have it, I'm actually starting my own company to distribute this particular service, and we're working on acquiring some seed funding." A bushy eyebrow raised. "I don't suppose any of you ladies would be interested?"

"You want our money?" One of the women asked, and Terry shrugged.

"I'm offering you all an investment opportunity. Isn't that the point of this group? To uplift each other?" She smiled across the table at Dominique, who for once kept her mouth shut and bowed her head. Terry sniffed triumphantly. "But I promise that this is a surefire win. Anyone interested can message me and I can set up an appointment so you can test the technology yourself- I'm sure the experience will uplift you like nothing else."

At that, she rose to her feet, allowing everyone to see that her tenacious rental dick was already half-hard again.

"Feel free to bring your own boys too, we've got lawyers and payment plans already drafted up. Pick someone you wanna be, and we can make it happen."

Then she walked away, her exit an unofficial signal to the other women that the meeting was now over, and everyone began to disperse. The women were abuzz with excitement, but Mason kept his eyes trained on Terry Walker as she sauntered off, eager to get one last look at her borrowed body's incredible ass.

What, he wondered to himself, would these meetings look like if the entire CBWA hopped on the same train as her? Mason imagined the tennis court full of ripped, shirtless men, frolicking about playing tennis in little shorts. It was such a pleasant image that it almost made up for the fact that he'd received no tips that day.

Shit, he thought to himself, crashing back to Earth as he remembered the rent payment he had due in a few days.

"Yoo-hoo!" A shrill voice rang out, and Mason saw Ms. Grant walking over towards him. She was wiping one of her hands on her skirt, and there was hunger in her eyes. "Dear, could we talk for a moment?"

Mason's stomach sank- he had an idea what she was going to ask him about. And unfortunately, he knew what his answer would be too.

[callme-holly]

can i get a curly shepard x soc reader where his nickname for her is dolly and he’s just whipped for her and angela and tim are like how tf is this hood with this pretty girl

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 [𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚/𝐧: i start school in like 4 days... there goes my motivational streak

The house felt surprisingly calm; the quiet of the morning was something that wasn’t particularly common around the Shepard house. The radio was crackling lowly in the background, some old song you’ve only heard once or twice, the smell of fresh coffee filling the kitchen. 

Tim was sat at the table, a newspaper spread in front of him, a mug beside it, steaming gently. Across from him was Angela, her hair pulled back from her face, a knowing smile tugging at the lips as she watched you hover around the stove. You were doing your best to cook up some breakfast, working with what little items they had lying about their kitchen, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with Curly hanging off of you like some kind of leech. 

His hands were resting lightly on your hips, his chin propped up against your shoulder as you moved around the small space, humming along to the radio. Occasionally, his lips grazed your neck, causing a shiver to run through you and your face to grow hot. It took everything in you not to scold him for being such a tease, but you knew he probably wasn't doing it completely on purpose; he always got like this in the mornings, clingy, softly, touchy. It was a side to him that you never really got to see unless he was fresh out of bed and still half-asleep. 

“Hey, Curls. You gonna let the poor girl breathe at some point today?” Angela laughed softly, earning a quick glare from your boyfriend. 

“Shut up,” he huffs, and you elbow him gently, a silent reminder to be a little more polite. “I’ll hold my girl if I wanna. Ain’t that right, dolly?”

You merely hum in response, unable to keep the smile off your face at the nickname. “Whatever you say, Shepard.” You pause for a moment, turning to grab one of your pans before setting it on the stovetop. Tim rolls his eyes, turning in his seat so that he's looking at the two of you, his brows raised.

"You know, y/n. If you want the punk outta your hair, just say the word." 

"He's fine as long as he behaves." You reply easily, and Tim just shrugs, leaning back casually once more. He takes a sip of coffee, the silence falling back over the kitchen before he breaks it. 

"You've got the patience of a saint, you know," he comments, watching as you plate up the food, dumping everything in the sink to be washed up later. Still, Curly doesn't move, his arms wrapped loosely around your torso. "If anyone was hangin' off me like that, I'd have lost it by now."

Curly lets out an annoyed noise, rolling his head away from you and towards his brother. "Shut your trap—" he starts, only to get cut off by you clearing your throat. Tim and Angela exchange knowing glances, both averting their gazes as you set breakfast down in front of them, setting yours and Curly's places before sitting in your own seat.

Curly finally releases you, heading to his own seat begrudgingly, his knee knocking yours as he sits down. 

The song on the radio soon changes, and for a few moments, nobody speaks, the faint crackling of static and music filling the space, accompanied by the scraping of cutlery on plates. It feels oddly comfortable, and you're more than happy to stay like that until Curly pipes up. 

"You make some damn good food, you know that?" he asks, his tone light but sincere, and Angela scoffs, taking a sip of whatever is in her glass.

"Of course she knows. You tell her every time she cooks."

Curly grumbles something under his breath, and you laugh quietly to yourself, taking another bite of bacon. 

"How the hell did you get so lucky, kid?" Tim looks up from his plate, his eyes narrowed curiously at your boyfriend. "A damn hood like you with a girl like Y/N?"

You can feel heat rise in your cheeks, and Angela makes an amused sound beside you. You try to hide your smile behind your cup, glancing across the table at Curly. His eyes are trained on you, a fond look on his features, and you find it impossible not to smile.

"Guess I'm just lucky." He responds simply, and his siblings roll their eyes, focusing back on their food, but you're still gazing at him. 

He beams at you, and the look in those dark eyes tells you everything words don't: he loves you a whole lot, and there isn't any denying it. 

[hksdlgsyappage]

Backburner

Spencer Reid x readet

C: Angst

Summary: After weeks of silence, you sit in a café, reflecting on the painful realization that Spencer Reid had never made them a priority, for always being second place.

I haven't heard from Spencer in days. It's been weeks, actually. Not that I expected anything different. His job has always come first—always. The BAU, the cases, the people who needed saving. And I was always the one waiting, lingering in the background, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd remember me.

But he never did. Not really. Not in the way I needed him to.

Flashback:

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I remember the first time I realized I wasn’t a priority to Spencer. We had spent hours together after a particularly brutal case, talking over dinner. We laughed. We shared things about ourselves that we hadn’t told anyone else. It felt real. And for once, I didn’t feel like I was on the outside of his world.

But the next morning, it was gone.

He was already back at the office, drowning in paperwork, absorbed in his work like he always was. I sent him a message, a simple one: “Good morning! I hope you’re doing okay.”

He didn’t reply.

Not for hours.

And when he did, it was the same as always. A few words. Casual. Polite. Nothing more.

I told myself it was fine. That I had to understand. That he was busy, that he was doing important work. But deep down, I knew what was happening. I wasn’t a priority. I was just the person who was always there when he needed someone to talk to, but never someone he would choose when things got hard.

Present:

I’m sitting in the same café where we used to meet—before. Before he pulled away. Before I realized that my feelings were just a shadow in his life. It’s almost ironic, really. I had told myself that if I was patient enough, if I gave him the time he needed, he’d see me. He’d come to his senses.

But that didn’t happen.

It never happens.

And so, I gave up. The final nail in the coffin was a week ago. I had waited by my phone, staring at the screen, hoping for a message that never came. And when it did, it was just another case update. Another report. Another moment where I wasn’t a part of his life.

I could feel myself slipping away, feeling like I was fading into the background of his world. It hurt more than I thought it would. It still does.

So, I walked away.

Flashback:

We were in his apartment, the scent of coffee lingering in the air. It felt familiar, comfortable. I wanted to stay there forever, nestled in the quiet of his presence. But I knew it wasn’t right. I couldn’t keep pretending like this was all okay when I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t.

"Spencer," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t do this anymore."

He stopped what he was doing, a frown forming on his forehead. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed, trying to find the words. "I can’t keep waiting for you. I can’t keep being your second choice. You say you care about me, but when it comes down to it, you’re always focused on something else. Someone else. I’m just here when you have time for me, but I’m not enough to be a priority."

His face hardened, his jaw clenching. "That's not fair."

"No," I replied, my voice shaking now, "what’s not fair is how I’ve let myself be treated like I’m not enough. I don’t want to be an afterthought. I don’t want to be on your back burner anymore."

He didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t argue. Just stood there, silent.

And I left.

Present:

The door chimes as it opens, pulling me out of my thoughts. My heart stops, and for a split second, I wonder if I’m imagining it. But no, it’s him. Spencer.

He’s standing in front of me, his face unreadable. I want to ignore him, I want to tell him to leave, but I can’t. I can’t just shut him out when everything inside of me is screaming for him to stay.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice quieter than I remember. "Can we talk?"

My hands tremble, the remnants of anger and hurt still fresh in my chest. The audacity of him to think that now, after everything, we can just talk. After weeks of silence, after everything I put into this... now he wants to talk?

I look at him, my mouth dry. "You can’t just walk back into my life, Spencer. You can’t just show up now like nothing happened. You left me. I waited, and I waited, and you never even noticed. And now you think that you can just... what? Make it better?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching mine. "I know I screwed up," he says, his voice breaking. "I’ve been... I’ve been a fool. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to feel like you were second place."

I want to scream at him. I want to tell him how much it hurt. How much I still feel the emptiness of his absence. But I just stay silent, because I already know. I already know the answer.

"I’m sorry," he continues, his words almost a whisper. "I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I was so focused on everything else, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "You think saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? You think that makes it better?"

His eyes widen in pain, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. But I can’t stop now. I can’t let him off the hook. Not when I’ve been holding myself together for so long, waiting for him to notice.

"I don’t even know who I am anymore when you’re around," I whisper, my voice cracking. "I put everything aside for you, but you never asked me to stay. You never asked me to be a priority. I can’t keep doing this. I’m done being your afterthought."

His eyes search mine, desperate now. "I never meant for you to feel like that. You were never an afterthought. You—"

I stand up, cutting him off. "Then why did I feel like I was always on the back burner?"

I turn to leave, my heart heavy, my throat tight. I don’t know if he’s following me, if he’s even said anything. I can’t hear anything over the sound of my own pulse, the ache in my chest threatening to consume me.

But before I reach the door, I feel his hand on my arm. It’s warm, and I want to pull away, but I don’t.

"Please," he whispers. "Don’t go. I’m trying. I will do better. I want to be better for you. For us."

I look at him, my face wet with tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding. "You can’t just want to be better, Spencer. You have to actually do it."

I pull away from his grasp and walk out of the café, my chest heavy with the weight of the words I’ve said. And as I leave, I know something for sure: this time, I won’t wait.

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

gonna be honest folks, the letter Blackwall sent to my dear Inqui in Veilguard makes me want to play Inquisition again

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[arolesbianism]

Shakes the bars of my cage I need to draw soooo bad I need to draw I need to draw let me draw I have to draw I need to draw I must draw (<- has been too sick to be on electronics much and doesn't like doing traditional art)